He’s a fan of the Dark Side of Star Wars. The theme of the party was Lego Star Wars, either a Storm Trooper or Darth Vader cake would be ideal. My thought was that a 5-year-old boy would be slightly disappointed with a Storm Trooper cake rather than a Darth Vader cake. Darth Vader was agreed on. I sent pictures for ideas. A Lego Darth Vader cake was chosen.

I challenged myself. Go big or go home on this cake. It was Darth Vader! I decided it would be covered with fondant, something that I’ve made figurines out of, but not actually covered a cake with yet. I’ve read about it many times feeling intimidated. I’ve watched those cake shows and being critiqued on their fondant skills. More intimidation. I was nervous, but I felt a kind of confidence, if just a small amount.

I tried planning out my process on paper. The only decision made on paper was what size of pan I was going to use for the cake. I was thinking about it too much, I decided. I made my buttercream frosting, the 2 cakes (an 11×15 and 9×13), and marshmallow fondant the night before beginning the cake building process. I’d gone through my plan by mind – the cape should be laid down first and then the arms on top. Give the cape a wavy look – it’ll look more real.

The next morning I laid out the 11×15 yellow cake and stared, thoughts running, walked by it, did the dishes. I was stalling. I was nervous. I knew in my mind that once I started working, I wouldn’t stop until it was complete. My David Grey radio station played through my iPod just loud enough. I cut the cake in half lengthwise, filled it with frosting, and the carving began.

I was in the “cake-zone.” The pieces came together for a basic outline to build from, cut out cake here, place it there. A crumb coat was applied. The fondant, bright marshmallow white, was unwrapped and ready to be kneaded and filled with color. My brain sent messages to my kneading-muscles, as I call them, preparing mentally for the aches and pain and burn they’d feel later.

“Why do the bad guys have to be associated with black?” I thought. My hands stained black with streaks of deep purple, blues, and greens as I pushed and rolled the food coloring into the once white fondant. How much food coloring will this take to get the right deep black shade? A lot. My hands were already beginning to get stiff and burn. At one point, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing while kneading blindly, picturing the oxygen being taken in going to the tense muscles. Mind over matter.

The rolling of black fondant stretched out large enough to cover the cake. It amazes me that I’m able to just do. All of the reading and watching of folks on TV working with this edible, clay-like substance came out in fluid motions by hand. Do this to fix that, this should happen in order to get this result. It just happened. Cake-zone.

I was proud of the end result of this cake. I’m always proud of my cakes, but this one was a personal defeat. One that showed me that I can do this. I challenged myself and succeeded. In doing so, I raised the bar for the future cakes I’ll have. I’ve reached a new level. There were mistakes made, things I see that need improvement. Practice makes perfect. I’ll get there. This cake comes with bragging rights. I love it.

I’ve decided one for sure task, if you will, for my 2012 year. Change. I want change, need change. I’m changing my lifestyle. More than a couple of goals have been set. Goals, not resolutions.

Goal #1: Go to church on a more regular basis. God’s always there, but I need to be there, too.

Goal #2: Workout. That’s a New Year’s Resolution for everyone, right? It’s my goal. It’s seems more of an achievement if I reach a goal rather than stick with a resolution. It’s how my brain’s wired, I guess. I think one reason some don’t keep that goal throughout the year is because they start off too hard and demanding that they find it too hard and stop. I’m starting off slow. I began my ball exercises on every odd day of the month. It’s beginning to not be as muscle-tiring now, so I’m going to start doing my dancercise videos on the even days of the month. I’ll be saying hello to more cardio and I love cardio. The best thing about this is that it’s all free! More motivation.

Goal #3: Changes in my diet. I’d like to lose another 10-15lbs by May, my birthday month. I found out at my last doctor’s appointment that I lost 12lbs without even trying, so perhaps I can reach my goal by working out and changing my diet. I’m taking a daily vitamin to help with any fallbacks and I plan on adding more fruits, vegetables, and watching my portion sizes. Also, I’m saying goodbye to caffeine. Maybe not a complete goodbye, but the intake is downsizing. Every once in a while that piece of dark chocolate is needed as a pallet cleanser or that hot chocolate with whipped cream on a cold day, which is rare in Alabama.

So far, I’m on the right track. It takes 30 days to create a habit and 30 days to break a habit. By February I should be set in my routine. The degree of boiling point is 212°F. I think I’ll make my slogan “Be 212° in 2012.”

It then became a birthday celebration. My sister and her family came over for dinner, too. Along with them, they brought homemade pirate hats. One for each person. My sister decided at 4:30 that afternoon that Husband deserved a pirate themed party. Hooray! It was so much fun. Husband got an eye patch and mine had a bow on its skull. Way fun. Along with the hats came the corny pirate jokes. They googled them on the way over. The family favorite was:

Why do sea gulls fly over the sea? Because if they flew over the bay they’d be bay gulls! *insert hysterical laughter here*

It was really fun. The tiramisu was delicious and also extraordinarily rich in large quantities. I would have to suggest making it the day before you’re planning on serving it. Also, don’t do it the day after you just did your arm workouts – cooking the egg mixture over the double boiler gives you an arm workout in itself! You feel much deserving of eating that more than conservative serving of tiramisu later.

Tiramisu

prep: 37min   cook: 8min   other: 8hrs 

This popular Italian dessert that means “pick-me-up” has a coffee- and alcohol- soaked cake layer, sweetened cream cheese, and grated chocolate. Look for ladyfingers in the bakery section of the store.

6 egg yolks

1 ¼ cups sugar

1 ¼ cups mascarpone cheese*

1 ¾ cups whipping cream

½ cup water

2 teaspoons instant coffee granules

¼ cup brandy

2 3oz packages ladyfingers, split

½ cup whipping cream, whipped

1 teaspoon grated unsweetened chocolate

Combine yolks and sugar in top of a double boiler; beat at medium speed with a handheld mixer until thick and pale. Bring water to a boil in bottom of double boiler; reduce heat to low, and cook, stirring constantly, 8min or until mixture reaches 160°. Remove from heat. Add mascarpone; beat until smooth.

Beat 1 ¾ cups whipping cream at medium speed until soft peaks form; fold into cheese mixture. Combine ½ cup water, coffee granules, and brandy; brush cut side of ladyfingers with ½ cup coffee mixture.

Line sides and bottom of a 3-quart trifle bowl with 36 ladyfingers, cut sides in; pour in half of filling mixture. Layer remaining ladyfingers on top; drizzle with remaining ¼ cup coffee mixture. Cover with remaining filling. Garnish with whipped cream and grated chocolate. Cover and chill 8 hours.

Yields: 12 servings

*As a substitute for mascarpone cheese, combine 2 8oz packages cream cheese, softened, 1/3 cup sour cream, and ¼ cup whipping cream; beat well. Use 1 ¼ cups mixture for recipe, reserving remainder for other uses.

Such a simple question asked and my answer was an immediate “no.” It’s not the people surrounding me – they bring me joy, for sure. The “it’s not you, it’s me” speech comes to play. My own worst critic has come over to “play” this week – me. That inner voice of criticism has been quite loud. I’ve been questioning everything I say and do.

“Was this right?” “You could’ve done better than that.” “Why did you say that?” “Why was this person cc’d on this email?” The insecurity level has definitely been higher for some reason. Then, I go to church and a simple question is asked, one filled with positives. Man, I wish that question wasn’t asked this week. Any other week probably would’ve been better. Tears wouldn’t have fallen.

There’s an emptiness that fills my heart. I’m asking myself what aims to fill that space and haven’t found the answer yet. Until then, I search and pray to God that He shows me the way to filling the void.

God in heaven, break my heart and allow Your spirit to fill me. Replace this sorrow with joy. Help me fill the emptiness. Give me the strength needed to supress my inner voice of criticism. For this I pray. Amen.

There’s something about a homemade salsa with homemade chips that make your taste buds jump for joy. I have a whole recipe book on just salsa and I’ve only made this one so far, but it’s the go-to since it has just a hint of heat. I make it for pot luck parties and Game Day parties. It’s what I’d call at work “user-friendly.”

I like the feel of my mezzaluna knife in hand slicing, chopping, getting into a rhythm. The smells of fresh tomatoes, peppers, and cilantro fill the air. I hear the sound of freshness as the peppers snap under my knife. It’s fun – and healthy. No preservatives here.

The homemade chip…mmm…. My sister got me hooked on making these. Once your oil gets hot, they make a lot faster than you’d think. Making them in a 12-inch skillet helps, too, since it gives more surface area. I’ve made them with both yellow and white corn tortillas. I’ve found that I like the white corn tortillas the best. Cut the tortillas in fourths for the perfect sized chip. The chip has more of a snappy kind of crunch compared to the store-bought. Plus, I prefer not to have salt on my chips, so making them this way is perfect for me. Brings a smile to this girl’s face.

My favorite way to eat this deliciousness is to mix the salsa with a bit of sour cream, snap a chip in half (I like the sound), scoop, and chomp.

2 tablespoons finely diced white onion

8 Roma tomatoes (about 1lb), diced

2 Serrano chilies, finely diced, with seeds

2 tablespoons finely diced fresh cilantro leaves

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

Combine all of the ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes for the flavors to combine. Add more sugar if the tomatoes taste too acidic.

Yields 2 cups

These verses also tell how the Lord is compassionate. At church yesterday, Dan spoke of suffering and how it’s an Ultimate Gift. He explained how evil never plays out, good will prevail. There were a lot of sniffles. He had a way of bringing us back to those individual experiences that bring suffering. Those moments that we’ve buried deep in ourselves. It was like an axe pick chipping away, then the shovel came not digging, but hammering with force. Chipping away the walls built around these memories. The final blow of words came. God allows us to be human, for us to shout and say, “I hate you!” to Him, but yet He’s the one we turn to after. He’s the only one to be there and console us in our hurt. He forgives us for being human, imperfect. He shows us compassion.

We may be on a path of disobedience, but His presence is still there, chipping away the pieces. One day there will be the heavy blow, the knock out punch that brings us towards Him. We ask for forgiveness and He welcomes us with open arms. There’s no one else that is capable of this kind of compassion.

Deuteronomy was written by Moses. I like Moses. I enjoy the story and his journey. He’s what every person should strive to be in life: a leader. Perhaps, not in everything they do, but using the gift God gives us to be some kind of leader.

Deuteronomy 11: 13-21 discusses how God will provide for His people as long as they obey his commandments that are given. If disobeyed, He will not provide. Makes sense. Sounds easy. More like easier said than done. God also warns how we will be tempted. Ah, temptation. It’s everywhere.

God tells us to learn these words of obeying and providing in return. He gives direction for us to basically do whatever it takes for us to learn them, engrave them into our hearts and minds. Then, we’re to teach our children. Write them on our door frames in our houses, bring Him into our homes.

My thoughts on this is that God is everywhere; hearts, minds, surroundings, etc. Be obedient. I was driving the other day in a grumpy mood. Someone honked their horn at me and I retaliated in a negative way. What a jerk I thought that person was and then I thought of my action. I should have been looking in the mirror when I thought they were the jerk. Made my face do that wince thing. I shot up a prayer of forgiveness. Let me be more aware of my actions and how they affect others around me.

I like to, ahem, brag about my fire-making skills. It’s something I grew up watching and learning to do. What’s the big difference between making a campfire and a charcoal fire other than size? And the fuel to keep the fire going?

This particular night, my husband was working late. The store was in the process of closing and I knew he’d be tired, hungry, and I wanted to prove that I could grill, too. I made barbeque chicken and grilled vegetables. Yum. It was a Saturday night, so I typically was wearing my lounge wear – also known as t-shirt and shorts. This was an awesome fire! One that makes you want to throw everything on the grate just so you can get the most out of it. Pure awesomeness, I tell you.

So, I throw these chicken quarters onto the grate and they make a sizzling noise. “Perfect!” I think to myself. Then, the flames started shooting up really high. I slight panic attack. I thought for a split second, “I don’t care if this chicken burns – those flames are scary!” I put on my big girl panties and rotated the chicken after calling the husband and asking if he’d be home soon because my fire making skills just got crazy. I blamed it on the shorts – they’re covered in Darth Vader. The Force is something you shouldn’t take lightly. Dinner turned out delicious.

I began telling a story about grilling to a co-worker of mine. He stopped me mid-sentenced and said, “Wait, you grill, too?” My response was rather bluntly stated. “Just because I don’t have a p____ doesn’t mean I can’t grill.” Yeah, the words came out before I could shove them back in. I just kept talking about my grilling adventure. Bragging about my fire, of course.

I made burgers last night. I had to talk to my fire, though. The flames got really high and then the wind started to blow. I thought the patio umbrella was going to catch fire. That was scary, too.

One day, I want to have a bigger charcoal grill, so I can make dessert on the fire – and not just s’mores, either. Like creme brulee (it’s so possible). It makes me so excited when I talk about things like this that I twirl.

And, yes, I do twirl.

This is the second time reading from Leviticus. If he were standing next to me right now, I’d probably tell him “Leviticus, you’re a hard read.” First, the guilt offering. That’s hard. You’re bringing awareness to the things you’ve done wrong and then asking for forgiveness. Forgiveness is hard, a phrase said numerous times either out loud or within.

Now Leviticus wants to talk about sexual relations and the taboos. A majority of them end with “their blood will be on their own heads.” It’s hard to break this one down – at least for me. Is it like bearing the Scarlet Letter on your shirt kind of thing or what? I need to wrap my brain around this one. Stew over it. Decide what I think.

Reflection: My sister brought to my attention that church is planning on doing a “How To” for studying the Bible. I need to be there. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. It’s outside of my comfort zone. There’s a difference in taking a class at school with the people you grew up with learning the same thing each day. I don’t know these people. Makes me want to run.

Dear God, give me the strength to run towards it all full on. Be there at the times I fall. There’ll be falling.

This particular set of verses has a devotional reading. It’s gives an understanding to the words. It says that woman today are often burdened by guilt, but have a hard time knowing when we’re truly guilty or suffering from false guilt. It goes on to say how woman feel guilty for working, not working; not spending enough time with family and friends; not taking enough time for God and ourselves. That’s a lot of stuff and a whole lot of truth.

The house needs to be cleaned – I have people coming over this weekend for football. The motivation to clean has evaporated. It’s interesting how I read this for today after deciding to push-off the chores until tomorrow. Take some me time. I’ve done a lot for those around me the last couple of days. I shouldn’t feel guilty for taking this time for God and to reflect on the unintentional sins I may, ahem, did commit.

I’ve thought to myself on numerous occasions that it’s impossible to go a day without sinning unless your name is God. People are imperfect. I’m not one to just go about sinning and think, “Oh, Jesus died on the cross for my sins, so I’m forgiven anyway. Whatever.” and just continue to sin. You must strive to not go against the commandments. Be the better person.

I confess my knowledgable sins mentally, pray for forgiveness. I follow that up with a quick little “Please, forgive me for all of the things I unknowingly did or forgot about.” I forget the routine things all of the time – I know I missed one somewhere. I remember going into that little room, sitting behind the screen, fearful of judgment, the feeling of shame hot on my face. I would check my list off on my fingers like a check list for the grocery store. I think as I grow in spirit and age, the sincerity of apology grows with me. I pray that it continues to grow.