Tiramisu Cake

There is nothing very Halloweeny about this post at all, but I made Tiramisu Cake for a dinner last night and -- well, if you love creamy deliciousness and coffee flavor you really should try it!

It's light; like, so-fluffy-it-might-float-away light. The flavor is almost all in the liqueur -- I could definitely have doubled the amount I spread over everything.

We were out of Kahlua and the coffee-infused rum I got last Christmas somehow ended up at my parents' house, so I substituted brandy mixed with a little bit of instant coffee and some sugar water/simple syrup. When I mixed up the filling and took a taste I thought I might die from happy -- next time I make this I'm doubling the marscapone/sugar/liqueur in the filling mixture and adding half as much of the whipped topping to it. The flavor was so good and I think the whipped cream deadened the flavor a bit too much.

Mmm. Tiramisu Cake.

Ingredients

• CAKE:
• 1 (18.25 ounce) package moist white cake mix
• 1 teaspoon instant coffee powder (I used 1.5-2 tsp -- but I like coffee. A lot.)
  
• 1/4 cup coffee (I used a little over a shot of espresso)
  
• 1 tablespoon coffee flavored liqueur (substituted brandy + a smidgen of instant coffee powder + a touch of simple syrup to knock out the bitterness of the instant coffee)
  
• 
  
• FILLING (haven't tried this, but I recommend doubling the filling ingredients):
• 1 (8 ounce) container mascarpone cheese
  
• 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
• 2 tablespoons coffee flavored liqueur
• 
  
• FROSTING:
• 2 cups heavy cream
• 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar
• 2 tablespoons coffee flavored liqueur
• 
  
• GARNISH:
• 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 (1 ounce) square semisweet chocolate

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour 3 (9 inch) pans.
2. Prepare the cake mix according to package directions. Divide two thirds of batter between 2 pans. Stir instant coffee into remaining batter; pour into remaining pan.
3. Bake in the preheated oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean (my number one rule for making moist, yummy cake? The toothpick should come out with CRUMBS... not doughy, not clean, but fully baked crumbs clinging to the little wooden thing). Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely. In a measuring cup, combine brewed coffee and 1 tablespoon coffee liqueur; set aside.
4. To make the filling: In a small bowl, using an electric mixer set on low speed, combine mascarpone, 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar and 2 tablespoons coffee liqueur; beat just until smooth. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.
5. To make the frosting: In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer set on medium-high speed, beat the cream, 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar and 2 tablespoons coffee liqueur until stiff (don't do what I did -- I just walked off from the Kitchenaid mixer, and came back to overly-whipped cream -- it will still taste good, but the texture is too thick). Fold 1/2 cup of cream mixture into filling mixture (recommended that you ad about 1/4 c. to the mixture, just enough to make it spreadable, after doubling the ingredients in the filling).
6. To assemble the cake: Place one plain cake layer on a serving plate. Using a thin skewer, poke holes in cake, about 1 inch apart. Pour one third of reserved coffee mixture over cake, then spread with half of the filling mixture. (I stuck all my cakes, gently but all over, with a fork before trying to assemble anything. Found it to be much easier -- also, I brushed my cake with the liquid mixture. That combined with having the holes all over the cake allowed it to really permeate without making the cake soggy). Top with coffee-flavored cake layer; poke holes in cake. Pour another third of the coffee mixture over the second layer and spread with the remaining filling. Top with remaining cake layer; poke holes in cake. Pour remaining coffee mixture on top. Spread sides and top of cake with frosting. Place cocoa in a sieve and lightly dust top of cake. Garnish with chocolate curls. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes before serving.
7. To make the chocolate curls, use a vegetable peeler and run it down the edge of the chocolate bar.

Luna Lovegood Scarf

The Leaky Cauldron has a pattern for Luna Lovegood's spindly, wonderful scarf from the most recent Harry Potter movie. It was really pretty easy, and I highly recommend it to any beginner crocheters who are ready to move on from basic granny squares.

It only took me one skein of yarn to finish, but I made mine a bit smaller than the pattern calls for. This project is a present for one of my Harry-Potter-lovin' friends, but everyone who has seen it loved it.

I haven't blocked it yet, which is why it looks so bumpy and misshapen:


Here's another pattern for the scarf, on Craftster: http://www.craftster.org/forum/index.php?topic=195441.0


Next movie I want to take woolen inspiration from? A Christmas Story. There is some seriously gnarly knit and crochet in that film!

Hanging the Christmas Cards Up With Care...

I'm a little late to the Christmas party - my apologies. We've had family emergencies and what-have-you that have kept me from the internet.

Being married and all, we now seem to get lots of family Christmas cards from our peers; not all of them are cool and worthy of display (the Frog Queen, fyi, sends marvelous seasonal cards!), but it would be rather rude of me to put out some and not all.

Since the cards aren't that exciting, I'm experimenting with new display options for next year. I have decided to hang them by nooses from the mantel. Here's a test-run:

I needed a few more wraps around the cord to make the neck of the knot look really good, but a little twine and a few minutes on the internet and you too could have a row of little hanging Christmas cards for next year. They'd probably look horridly pretty hanging in a group from the ceiling, too.



This should really go without saying, but be careful with knots. Especially hangman's knots -- they are not to be worn around the neck.

Halloween Supplies from my Secret Santa!

I hosted a Secret Santa Swap with one of my Yahoo! ATC groups and my Santa, Heather Bloom, sent me this fabulous cache of Halloween goodies! This is only half of what Heather sent...the rest is posted on my Nostalgic Collage blog. Heather knows of my love of all things Halloween...how very special. Thank you so much Heather for a wonderful Secret Santa surprise! ((HUGS)) Kris

Wishing you endless days of merriment.

pass the eggnog

I've bought and wrapped the gifts. And mailed the cards. And baked the fruitcake and cookies. And eaten most of the fruitcake and cookies. And attended the school concert. And decorated the house. And sat on a roadside curb and watched the Santa Claus parade. Make that two Santa Claus parades. And visited Swiss Chalet for the Festive Special (which doesn't feel nearly as festive since they replaced the large Toblerone bars with Lindor chocolates). And observed the time-honoured tradition of Mr. Bean's Christmas.

Time now to take a blogging break for a week or two while I travel to Cape Breton for Christmas, devote myself to holiday merriment and frivolity, and immerse myself in mincemeat pie and eggnog.

I'll be back next year. Unless something creepy happens during the holidays.

Merry Christmas to all.

halloween house

Each Christmas season, I pass this house and think, "Where were you at Halloween?"

Perhaps it's just me, but the placement of the candles and their distinctly orange glow reminds me of a giant jack-o-lantern. Except for the candy cane in the front yard.

I think I may be suffering from Halloween withdrawal.

Fauxmen

My mother loves Christmas as much as I love Halloween; it's weird, but true. She had a tradition when her father was alive of giving him a snowman ornament every year for Christmas, and when he passed on my grandmother gave them all back to my mom.

Being the morbid little child that I am, I decided to continue the tradition by giving her a snowman every year. Up until this year, that plan has worked out great!

But this season I'm a big BAH HUMBUG about Christmas. I have not personally purchased a single present for anyone but the Husband, and that I did with a big *sigh.* -- So last night brought on a small panicked feeling when I realized I've been so busy and so actively un-festive that I forgot to get a snowman and we start out Christmas rounds tonight - no rest for the wicked, I won't be having free time again until the 26th.

So I made a cute little crochet fauxman for my mom out of yarn I just happened to have stashed, using the Bo the Snowman pattern. I bring him to you because: a) I made it. and b) Wow, sans hat this guy would make an absolutely adorable little skull ornament.

With a little bit of black instead of orange for that triangle-nose, wouldn't he just be the skulliest? He's just too cute.

I found the image, left, while looking at other adaptations of the Snowman pattern. This girl just used the hat to make herself a mini-tophat, and added a spider-web looking veil. Very cute!

See more of the tophat.

snow

The storm had been predicted for nearly a week. It was coming, they said. And it was huge. I sat devotedly in front of the Weather Network, my senses attuned to every update. Every change in wind direction. Every fluctuation in the jet stream. I watched the news reports from Washington. New York. Boston. Record-breaking snowfall. Stranded motorists. Chaos. And it was moving up the coast. I rushed out gleefully in advance of the first snowflakes to stock up on essentials. Milk. Bread. Eggnog. Whiskey. I pulled out some classic Christmas movies. I was ready.

And yes, there was snow. And wind. And for a few brief hours, it might even have been called a snowstorm. And then, it was gone. Leaving in its wake a thin layer of white, increasing temperatures, and the promise of rain.

I feel cheated.

But I did get to enjoy a holiday classic. One that has become a yearly tradition. Xmas Story is not a movie. Rather it is a Christmas episode of Futurama. But a classic Christmas episode of Futurama nonetheless.



Who could not love the robot Santa of the future. With his bright red suit and his exacting standards. Jack Skellington would have met his match in this guy.

Shrunken Head Apple

Happy Holidays! This is a perfect idea for your Christmas shindiggery: apple cider filled with adorable shrunken heads.

You don't even have to make cider from scratch, just fill a pot with cider and carve some faces in your apples.

Huzzah! Happy little cider faces.

Fire Drink for your Next Festivity?

I found this on About.com; it seems perfect for a showy Halloween beverage, especially if you have a party in your back yard!

Prep Time: 02 minutes
Cook Time: 10 minutes
Ingredients:

* 1 liter orujo (substitute Italian grappa if orujo not available)
* 2/3 cup granulated sugar
* rind of one lemon cut into strips
* scant 1/4 cup whole coffee beans

Preparation:

This queimada recipe makes about 8 servings

Special Note: For the preparation of this drink, you will need a large fireproof clay pot or bowl, sealed or glazed on the interior and a very long-handled wooden spoon to stir the queimada.

Place the clay pot or bowl on a fireproof table of atop a cold BBQ grill. Be sure to have a large lid handy to put out the flames.

Pour approximately 4 Tbsp orujo and 1 Tbsp sugar into a small glass and stir to dissolve sugar, then set aside.

Pour the rest of the orujo and remaining sugar into the clay bowl and stir. Add the lemon peel and coffee beans and stir again.

Pour the orujo and sugar mixture from the glass into a ladle and light it on fire. Carefully move the ladle very close to the clay pot until the orujo mixture in the pot catches fire. Stir frequently until the flames turn blue. Slide the lid over the pot to put out the flames. Serve hot.

snowmen and santas and ghosts and pumpkins

In early November, when Christmas began to flood the stores, I thought about making some new ornaments for my tree this year. I hadn't created homemade Christmas ornaments in many years. Particularly since those early creations have become the object of yearly ridicule. But motivated by the success of my Halloween tree ornaments and a new-found pride in my ornament-creating ability, that was about to change. Choosing not to blend Christmas and Halloween, I decided on snowflakes as the shape of choice and off I went to find a snowflake cookie cutter. Snowflake cookie cutters were thick on the ground in November. Big or small. Simple or elegant. Plastic or metal. They were everywhere. I found one that I liked at Michael's.

I bought it. I know I did. I'm not insane. I'm not beginning to slide into the early stages of dementia. I distinctly remember purchasing the snowflake cookie cutter, bringing it home, and placing it in the container with the other cookie cutters.

But when procrastination was finally overcome by Christmas spirit last week and I made my ornament dough and switched on the oven and opened the cupboard to retrieve my new cookie cutter . . . it wasn't there. Nowhere. I overturned the cookie cutter box. I searched the whole cupboard. I searched the surrounding cupboards. I interrogated my family. Nowhere.

Pushing aside disturbing fears of mental instability, I came to the conclusion that it had been misplaced and would eventually turn up. Likely in July. But that didn't help me now. I had ornaments to create. So off I went once again to locate a clone of that cookie cutter. The one I know I bought. But it was now mid-December. That favourite snowflake cookie cutter could not be found. Nor could any other snowflake cookie cutter. There were plenty of cookie cutters. There were Christmas trees. And gingerbread people. And snowmen. And candy canes. And mittens. But no snowflakes.

After visiting six stores in a futile search for a snowflake cookie cutter, I was prepared to admit defeat. But then I made one final attempt. Home Outfitters was on my way home, so I stopped in. Just in case. I explored aisle after aisle in the kitchen department, passing cookie sheets and oven mitts and casserole dishes, ever vigilant for that elusive snowflake shape.

Suddenly, I saw it. Off in the distance. In the furthest recesses of the kitchen gadgets section. Not a snowflake cookie cutter of course (they had long since sold out of those). No, this was better than snowflakes. It was a large table that appeared to be enveloped in an aura of orange. As I drew nearer, I saw that it was filled with the remnants of Halloween. Ghost candles and pumpkin-shaped bowls and vintage-inspired paper decorations. My heart leaped with joy. I rushed over and began sorting through the merchandise, deciding upon a purchase.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. Two store clerks. Looking quite concerned. They approached quickly and informed me that they were in the process of moving this table of Halloween goodness into storage and packing it up. This being Christmas season, after all. They seemed to regard me as odd.

I never did get a snowflake cookie cutter. But no matter. The desire to create snowflake ornaments had passed and I went home and had a glass of eggnog. I felt content. The day had been truly magical. The sight of those ghosts and pumpkins and bats amongst the snowmen and santas had warmed my heart and filled me with all the joys of the season.

stay-puft for the holidays

These little holiday Pillsbury Doughboys have been a seasonal fixture in my kitchen for many years. Ever since I was persuaded by my then very young children to bring them home from the neighbourhood grocery store. One "free" with each package of frozen Christmas cookie dough.

And I must confess to liking them. So cute. So cheerful. So cuddly. And yet . . . I can never look at them without being reminded of this guy.




Obviously a distant relation.

postmortem

I felt quite pleased with myself for actually creating a costume in advance of Halloween night this year. True, it was only a couple of days in advance. But certainly an improvement over throwing something together as the doorbell was ringing on Halloween night.

It had been my intention to record the process of constructing my headless costume step-by-step as I created it. But like so many of my good intentions, this one never materialized. Partly because the last few days before Halloween are so frantic. And partly because, until almost the last moment, I had serious doubts about its success. And hence, the fear that any record of the process would then serve only as a sad reminder and a cautionary tale.

But in the end it turned out well. Not perfect, but acceptable. And as my thoughts begin to drift toward next Halloween, I can't let 2009 slip away without recording the process in retrospect for future reference. Or for general amusement. Photos are sparse. Only one or two were taken as I was putting the costume together. For the aforementioned reasons. Most were taken during the deconstruction process. So this will require some backwards thinking on my part.

The inspiration for the headless costume was one I had seen in Make magazine and marked with a mental sticky note as a great idea for that Halloween. Two years later the mental sticky note was becoming frayed and torn. This was the year.

I read through the artist's process for creating the costume. When I reached the part about welding copper pipes together, I realized some modifications would be necessary. So with a general idea of the process simmering in my mind, I made my way to the basement to search for discarded junk that might serve as alternative construction material. And to think of a way to create a reasonable facsimile of this costume by using whatever I could find within a 30-foot radius of my house.



I found an old school backpack that had belonged to my son. These are always easy to find since he manages to destroy an average of two each year. Instead of copper pipes, I used old curtain rods. The metal bendable kind with adjustable lengths. I also found a few chunks of styrofoam which were almost the width of my shoulders and which I thought would be an easier alternative to sculpting clay. And it was. Sort of. I then grabbed a roll of duct tape and started work on the frame.



The curtain rods were adjusted to the proper length and duct-taped into position. They were then placed into the backpack. One of the styrofoam pieces was placed between them at the bottom of the backpack to keep them from moving. And of course, the styrofoam piece was duct-taped to the curtain rods. The rods extended up out of the backpack and over my head where the top ends were then pushed through the second chunk of styrofoam, so that it hovered just above my head. The top ends of the rods were bent to prevent them from sliding off. The final piece of styrofoam was attached to the front of the second piece to give the illusion of a chest. And yes, duct tape was added for extra security. The shoulders were complete.



Arms were created out of a wire coat hanger inserted through the length of the back styrofoam chunk. It emerged roughly where arms should emerge from shoulders. (I also made a mental note to keep the vacuum cleaner nearby when tearing apart styrofoam. That stuff can really scatter.) One arm was extended by attaching flexible garden wire to the coat hanger end and then using it to create fingers. Substance was given to the arms with foam pipe insulation. And once again, everything was duct-taped into place.




All that remained was to create the neck stump. And it was here that things began to go awry. Here that the success of the project fell into doubt. Here that my confidence began to erode. Here that I began to think of a last-minute costume I could throw together on Halloween night.

My first (and ill-fated) idea was to invert a styrofoam wig head, cut a neck-sized piece out of the back of the styrofoam shoulders and position the inverted wig head so the neck portion would stick up above the styrofoam shoulders like a neck stump. The head part of the wig head would of course be hidden under the styrofoam shoulders between the curtain rods. It sounded good. In theory.

No photographs exist of this stage. It would have been too painful. I'll just describe it as best I can. The first wave of despair hit when the inverted wig head could not be easily stabilized in the cut portion of the shoulders. Glue didn't work. Even the invincible duct tape let me down. Then I thought of a solution. I got out my wood burning tool. It would be simple. I would melt the edges of the cut-out styrofoam shoulders around the inverted wig head. When it hardened, it would be one solid mass, everything locked into place. I might add here that I did have the good sense to take this part of the project outside onto the deck. Otherwise, the fumes would have likely killed me in seconds. On a more unfortunate note, the melted-then-hardened mass promptly snapped when cooled. Apparently packing styrofoam and wig head styrofoam don't blend well. Who knew?

Back to the drawing board. And back to the basement for alternative neck stump material.



I managed to find a piece of soft foam that could be easily cut , rolled, and inserted into the gaping melted styrofoam hole at the back of the shoulders. Incredibly, it looked quite good. An ideal size, shape, and texture. Shame about the bright yellow colour though.



It was here that I ventured outside my house for a solution. A neighbour had a prop in her yard with a severed hand. Where the hand should have been, she substituted cooked angel hair pasta and ketchup. I wasn't keen on the ketchup, but the pasta created an interesting effect. Instead of ketchup, I added red food colouring to the pasta as it cooked. I then piled the cooked pasta onto the foam neck stump, glued it in place, and added a little extra food colouring. It worked surprisingly well. Perhaps not in the cold light of day, but certainly at night.



Finally, at 3 o'clock on October 31st, I strapped on the backpack, slipped an extra-large sleeveless dress around both the frame and myself, and a cloak around that. A long glove covered the wire hand, which was bent into place under my severed head. The matching glove was on my one exposed real hand (used for handing out treats). And I was ready to go. With a planned and executed costume. And with only minor disasters along the way.

But would I do anything differently? Oh, yes.

While the styrofoam idea seemed easier at the time, sculpted clay would likely have been the better choice because the whole shoulder/neck area could have been created simultaneously. No need to endanger my health by melting styrofoam. And I would have used two fake hands to support my severed head and let someone else hand out treats. Maneuvering with my one real hand kept messing up the cloak and requiring periodic re-adjustments. Or perhaps I can blame it on the raging winds that night.

Next Halloween's costume will be simpler. Since most of my time will likely be taken up by the creation of four Tusken Raiders. Haven't started those yet. But one thing I can guarantee: it will definitely not involve the melting of styrofoam.

Silent Hill for the Wii???? And a Bat project I love

I'm sitting around squealing about this game like a teenage girl at Robert Pattinson.

BRING ON THE SILENT HILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, something more fun and full of bats. My neighbor did this exact thing this year and it looks FREAKING FANTASTIC:



Found at: It's the Little Things that Make a House a Home

in from the cold

The recent spate of snow and sub-zero temperatures have effectively laid to rest any fleeting thoughts I may have had of working on props outside in December. With temperatures not expected to rise any time soon, the only solution is to bring the projects indoors. And now all I need is space.

I've done some basement reorganizing and cleaning. Taken toys that have been sitting untouched on shelves for a few years and found new homes for them. Rather than creating more room, however, the remaining stuff seems to have expanded to fill the newly available space. But I just might be able to carve out a small area for myself. Somewhere between the air hockey table and the Guitar Hero drum kit.



First on my list is an unfulfilled dream from last season. An outdoor Halloween tree. I have a vision of it in my mind. In which it looks fabulous, of course. And I've got wire, a tomato cage purchased to support my doomed pumpkin plants, coat hangers, and some foam insulating material.

We'll see what happens. And how closely the reality matches the vision. Or not.

Dag Blast All This Commotion!

CreepyCupcakes is being spammed. Daily. Stupid comment spammers are making me crazy; if your comment gets deleted, it's because I was trigger-happy.

I still haven't much to show for my absenteeism... in fact, I've barely had time to stroll through the interwebs what with my work schedule of late. I did, however, find some interesting reads on GoogleBooks:


This one is a selection of interesting Halloween imagery.


Varney the Vampire -- possibly an inspiration for Mr. Stoker and his little bat story. (I've always wanted to read some of the penny dreadfuls).



Then we have the Weekly World News... I'm going to nominate them for their championship of Halloween and tips on keeping the house clean while living with the family werewolf!










Happy Hauntings, All. :)

Under the Weather and Overwhelmed

There has been lots to do since returning home; getting 'back on track' is some serious nightmare business. Also, the next few weeks at work are heavy with project deadlines and yes - I fear some of the layoffs affect my workload, not just my friend base.

And then I caught a light plague from the Husband. Cold, cold, cold. I'm never going to get thank-you's out, dammit!

:( Blogging is going to be slow over this wretched 'happy holiday' season.

Which is a shame, because two weeks ago I had brilliant plans for spooky Christmas decor and now my brain is so smushy I don't even remember what some of those ideas were! Though I'm sure at least some of them involved mistletoe, because I think parasitic, poinsonous plants are kind of ideal for spreading the right kind of holiday cheer.

Blah, blah, blah... here's a picture of me, weird on cold medicine at the end of a hard day of work and wearing my mummy shirt from last season's Target collection. *le sighe* I miss Halloween already:


Why no, that's not an award for most stylish cubical of death at our office - BUT IT SHOULD BE. :) Also, I was delirious on cold medicine.

Merry Christmas to me

Shopping for gifts is one of the highlights of the Christmas season. If I begin early enough, it is a truly joyous experience. Wandering through the shops. Listening to the street corner musicians. Stopping for an occasional latte break. The real joy, however, lies in discovering something that I believe the recipient will truly love. Looking back, many of the gifts that have been the most pleasurable to give, and the most enthusiastically received, have had little monetary value. Instead, they reminded me (and hopefully the giftee) of a time shared or a story told or an interest expressed.

This philosophy works well with almost everyone on my gift list. Almost. One exception is my mother-in-law. For her, monetary value supersedes sentimentality. Anything purchased - and it must be purchased because homemade gifts have no value here - must bear the most expensive brand name available or it will be received with disdain. And likely returned. Or tossed in the back of a closet.

However, my topic here is not mother-in-law bashing, cathartic as that might be. I'll return now to my story.



Several Christmases ago, the problem of what to buy her appeared to be solved. She had begun to collect pieces of a miniature Christmas village. Not just any village of course. The Dickens Village Collection from Department 56. The most expensive she could find. For the past several years, this has made shopping for her gifts relatively simple. It was a matter of finding a village building which she did not have. And one which we could afford. Not always easy, but possible. All was well. She got a gift that she wanted. She knew it was expensive. And I took comfort from the knowledge that it would not be cast aside or returned.



So, of course, it was too good to last. Inevitably, she grew bored. Her interest in her Christmas village waned. And with it her desire to expand her collection each year. Finally, the dreaded words were expressed: "I don't want any more of those houses."

Unfortunately, the words were expressed after this year's gift had already been purchased. So back to the store it went. A store which did not provide cash refunds, simply credit notes. No worries. There would surely be something else in that establishment that would appeal to her. But no. There was nothing suitable. We knew we would have to look elsewhere. But there was still the problem of the credit note. It had to be spent in that particular store. And it came with an expiry date. There was only one logical thing to do. I looked around for something for myself. But what? Christmas ornaments? Candles? A framed print?



And then, there it was. Tucked away on a corner shelf. A clearance item from Department 56's Halloween collection. A lovely tombstone manufacturer and quarry. Complete with chained minion. Half-price because the minion reportedly became stuck periodically in the course of his labours. The credit note would cover most of the cost. Fate had brought us together. How could I walk away?

I couldn't of course. And today the R.I.P. Tombstone company has a permanent home in my living room. And the minion has been labouring steadily, never once faltering. Providing comfort as I attempt to find an alternate gift for my mother-in-law. I have an idea. I think it will be expensive enough. I just hope it's not too heartfelt.

classifieds

So I'm quietly sipping a rum and eggnog and flipping through the free glossy magazine that my liquor store gives away to entice me to buy more liquor.

As I turn the pages, contemplating the recipes within, my eyes suddenly fall upon the words "hell" and "death reaper". Intrigued, I read further.



A clever spin on the seasonal "don't drink and drive" reminders.

Scary Art Nouveau Door - Monmatre

Scary Art Nouveau Door - Monmatre,
originally uploaded by The urban snapper.

I think I need this door!

Also, I will be back on blogging track soon. Right now I'm just feeling a little out of it.

:)

the geek family prepares for Hal-Con

I spent some time recently leafing through my comic book collection and reflecting on the many sci-fi characters I've encountered through movies and television. I was searching for inspiration for my costume for next October's Hal-Con. It is, after all, a mere eleven months away.

I am determined to have my costume completed well in advance, so it doesn't become tangled and lost in last-minute Halloween preparations. And I've ruled out the possibility of creating one costume that could be worn at both the con and on Halloween night. Like some nebulous monster or alien or zombie. No, my inner geek insists upon dressing as a favourite (and hopefully recognizable) character and it will not be silenced. Two separate costumes will be required.

So finally, after careful contemplation and a painful but honest analysis of my costume-making skills, I arrived at a decision. Golden Age Catwoman. Not to be confused with later incarnations of Catwoman. And not to be confused with the first version to appear in the golden age of comics. When she opted for the clever disguise of "old lady" and was simply called The Cat.



And not even the second version of Golden Age Catwoman. The one with the cat's head mask. That one is just disturbing.



No, it was version three of Golden Age Catwoman that I had in mind. When she had finally decided upon a costume and stuck with it.



An appealing vintage look. A costume that is at once wearable (without profound embarrassment) and achievable (within the realm of my sewing skills). A trip to Value Village. A little basic stitching. And I'd be ready to go.

And then my son made a suggestion.

When the tickets went on sale, I bought a family pass for Hal-Con. But oddly, the rest of my family are reluctant to join me in dressing up. Reactions have ranged from eye rolling to vociferous refusal. Yes, I can say with pride that I am the biggest geek in the house. But now, a glimmer of hope. My son suggested a family group costume. It seems he is willing to consider dressing up if we all dress the same. Preferably in something that disguises his face. All is not lost. I know that if he is on board, the other two can be persuaded.

So I put Golden Age Catwoman on the back burner and we began to brainstorm. A brainstorming session heavily influenced by his affinity for Star Wars. After all, Boba Fett himself would be attending the con. Ideas came quickly. And were rejected just as quickly. Wookies? Too warm. Stormtroopers? Too difficult. Tusken Raiders?



Hmmmm . . . Tusken Raiders. It might work. Basic costume. Good facial coverage. And certainly easier than my first idea of individual Jedi. And while Tusken Raiders are not among my favourite Star Wars characters, I will admit to feeling some sympathy for them after Anakin massacred them early on in his journey toward the Dark Side.

So for the moment, Tusken Raiders it is. But I'll watch for a Catwoman-esque dress at the same time. The capriciousness of adolescence could result in a sudden change of heart. Although I believe I've been clear that if I devote my time and energy to creating four costumes, there will be no turning back.

two season shimmer

In these tough economic times, money must not be wasted. Each new purchase must be carefully considered. Its value assessed. Now more than ever, multi-functionality is paramount.

Take, for example, this handsome jack-o-lantern, encountered on a shopping expedition in October. Its shiny, feathery garland would undoubtedly add glitz and sparkle to any Halloween celebration.



Then, as Halloween fades into memory, the garland can simply be unfurled and used to adorn December's Christmas tree. Pure brilliance.

Frugality at its finest.

No treasure without killing a Dragon

No treasure without killing a Dragon,
originally uploaded by InsP.ireR M_u_s_E.

Came across a really stunning photoset on flickr today, so I thought I would share.

And so it begins...

25 days of merriment, a festival of the heart.
A time when there are no limitations on
intangible gifts. Take a deep breath and let
the warmth of the holiday spirit wrap itself
around you on your countdown journey
to the most magical day of the year.

just one more

I think I have a problem.

I have just returned from Superstore with yet another container of President's Choice Key Lime Sherbet. I fear I am well and truly addicted.



My story begins in the last frenzied days before Halloween. I had invited friends for dinner on the 30th and decided to try out a recipe I had noticed while flipping through an old Halloween magazine. A recipe entitled Witches' Brew.

As it turned out, there was more food for dinner that evening than anyone could realistically eat. So the Witches' Brew was put on hold. Until Halloween night. That night, when we were invited to a neighbour's house after the trick-or-treaters had gone home, Witches' Brew seemed the perfect accompaniment. The amounts of ingredients listed seemed small, however; not nearly enough. I quadrupled them, and added vodka, like so:

Milk - 4 cups
Key lime sherbet - 4 cups
Frozen lime juice concentrate - 1/2 cup
Vodka - whatever feels right

As I hurriedly mixed the ingredients with the blender, I was somewhat surprised and annoyed that the key lime sherbet was white. I had expected green. Lime green. Bright green. Witchy green. Who knew that President's Choice had eliminated artificial food colouring from its line of Blue Menu products? Just when I needed it most. Even with the addition of the lime juice concentrate, it had the distinct appearance of Colgate Winterfresh toothpaste.

No matter. It tasted great. And the presence of vodka more than compensated for its less-than-witchy appearance. Two litres of Witches' Brew disappeared quickly that evening. But I wanted more. And it wasn't just the vodka talking. Upon reflection, I realized that what I really wanted most was the key lime sherbet.

It's shockingly addictive. And delicious with cranberry mincemeat.

Now, as I open another container, I console myself with the knowledge that there are far worse things to be addicted to. And the knowledge that Superstore is only ten minutes from my house.