Monday, December 31, 2012
This was the year of the violent massacres; that saw school kids and movie goers gunned down for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. we saw the dirtiest politics from the GOP... pretty much ever. Teachers were turned into union thugs and the Twinkie was the sole victim of the Mayan Apocalypse. (Well, with a little help from corporate greed at the expense of Hostess' workers.) Over seas the world was turned upside down by wars, assassinations, and more middle east uprisings.
Like many folks, this year has been filled with some very interesting challenges; both emotional and personal. It's been through the good graces of friends and some well timed opportunities that I managed to get through this year, at all. To those of you, thank you so very much; you have no idea how special you've been to me, this past year.
As for 2013? Well, I'm going to have at it with a new sense of hope and adventure. this past year has been like a forge, toughening me up and getting me ready for the new challenges ahead. I'm eager to greet the new year and see what's in store...
Peace and Grace be with you all this new year. In the words of a friend; "don't have New Year's resolutions; have plans..."
Galactic Gun and Stuff return in 2013; to be joined by a new title...
Friday, December 21, 2012
A few words on reenacting from Ariel, the reenactor...
Anyone who’s ever donned formal wear will attest that it’s the undergarments that make a good outfit look great. Some wear corsets, special bras, or the all-important Spandex.
I wear ace bandages.
Not to help a dress fit properly, but because I have mastered every odd way to injure oneself. In the past month I’ve twisted my ankle, sprained my wrist, and scraped/bruised my inner thigh (you have no idea how hard that is to bandage). All for the sake of Victorian Christmas cheer. Ever wonder what lets a woman smile through all that? The fact that you don’t know I’m wearing an ace bandage under my thigh highs.
And nothing completes an outfit like a smile.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
From the Mind of Miss J:
Baking is a science… It’s all about chemistry and timing, only without the Bunsen burner
Given that truth, it is unsurprising that a scientific individual, like IronChuck, would be attracted to it. That said, his approach to baking is surprisingly unscientific. Rather, he comes at baking from a place of complete and utter abandon, with child-like enthusiasm that flies in the face of conventional baking wisdom. (particularly when there is a full six pack of Anchor Steam’s “Christmas in a Bottle” in the mix!)
I read something, once, about baking with children, which is what this experience most closely resembles. There are two ways to do it…
One is the French way, in which preschoolers learn patience and independence by baking on their own. Sort of like executive function training with more butter. The other way is just to give in and embrace the chaos…
I’m not ashamed to admit it. I like order in the kitchen. Some would call me OCD, or Monica… They would not be far off… LOL… but neat-freakishness aside, there are simple rules to baking that make everything work better, in terms of the end product. When you roll out dough the idea is to handle it as few times as possible, or you run the risk of tough cookies. (tough cookies… heh-heh) Once you’ve rolled it out, you make the most efficient arrangement with your cookie cutters, possible, so you don’t have to re-roll the dough…
That is, of course, unless you ascribe to the IronChuck School of Baking, in which you roll your dough until it screams for mercy, and then proceed to jam your first cookie cutter right smack in the middle, then stick the rest of the cutters on the dough any which way… Then you pick up the dough and smash the Hell out of it, and then roll it out again, repeating the cookie cutter dance (and there really was a dance…) until you eventually run out of dough… This goes a long way to explaining the pained expression he has drawn on the face of yours truly, in the above comic.
I nearly had an aneurysm… He laughed at me… a LOT… and a “Stuff” was born… In the end, the cookies came out just fine, in spite of the man-handled dough… (we actually ate half of them, right out of the oven… the angels’ wings kept “breaking off”…) but that’s just the magic of being IronChuck.