Baking Cakes

No, I'm not advocating bomb-making, but I can make a cake.

Flourless Chocolate Cake for Everyone Needs Cake™

As for bombs, I can throw around the f-ones, particularly in these dark times. I found this article really illuminating. It sheds light on anger, my own in particular.

I used to insist I didn't get angry. Not anymore. On female rage.

Here's a favorite paragraph with words attributed to Audre Lord:

Anger isn’t just a blaze burning structures to the ground; it also casts a glow, generates heat and brings bodies into communion. “Every woman has a well-stocked arsenal of anger potentially useful against those oppressions,” Lorde writes, “which brought that anger into being.

If you're Homeland Security, be assured. I might be an angry woman (at times), but I'm not making any bombs.

Did ya'll go to the Women's Marches in your city? I didn't go this year because my little sister and her daughter were visiting, and -- to tell you the truth -- just wanted to be quiet. I'm so moved by the numbers of people who showed up, though, all over the world. It gives one hope, right?

Here's one of my favorite posters:

Last week I interviewed the founder of the Pussy Hat Project, Kat Coyle. She's the owner of The Little Knittery, a much-loved community knitting store. I'm writing an article about it for The Los Angeles Times. Stay tuned.

I bought a skein of pink wool to make another pussy hat.
Kat is the one knitting in the background. She's so cool I can hardly stand it.

This is over the door of her new store -- so weird and wonderful how women make history.

Yeah. It's been a wonderful weekend.

Playing Chicken Feet dominoes. I won.

Books & Bakes

My little sister Jennifer is here visiting. She's got that thing, that touch, that know what you're doing as far as arranging a wall of paintings, throwing cool fabric over old furniture kind of thing. That's what she's been doing all day.

Tonight is my monthly Books & Bakes salon. Saint Mirtha had an unexpected emergency, so I'm going a little nutso in the kitchen. I'll post my menu and all that good stuff later tonight or tomorrow morning, if I'm still alive. We read J. Ryan Stradal's novel Kitchens of the Great Midwest. It was an entertaining read with great food scenes. Lutefisk is involved. Look that up and try to imagine this one-half Italian, one-quarter Syrian and one-quarter Scotch English gal serving it.

I hope your Friday is going well. It's still hot as hell here in southern California. Thank the good lord Jesus for air-conditioning.

Me and My Seesters

Happy National Sibling's Day, Jennifer and Melissa!

(gotta love the shoulder pads and the pearls, right?)

Yakety Yak

Me and my yak

Have you ever had one of those days where you talked and talked and talked, so much that it was too much? I had one of those days, and while every conversation was a good and deep one, I'm talked out. Today I talked about my children and I talked about medical marijuana. I talked about dyslexia and I talked about gratitude. I talked about how difficult it is to receive things gracefully. I talked about marriage and I talked about divorce. I talked about turning fifty years old, and I talked about losing weight. I talked about the books I'm reading and the jobs I'm looking for. I talked about advocacy for children with special healthcare needs, and I talked about my family. I talked about others and I talked about myself. The only thing I didn't talk about was drinking.

That's why I'm grateful to my baby sister Jennifer for directing me to this website called Thug Kitchen and this particular post. If you're at all offended by cursing, avoid it. Otherwise, have fun.

Now I'm going to stop talking and go make myself a Blackberry Bourbon Fizz.

Then I'm going to chill the  ------ out.