Sassy Does It

Fifi is nearly off the needles and - oh, for pete’s sake - she’s been in that sad state for over a week.

I’m going to try to blame this on the whole Michael Jackson thing.  It took a good long while to peel my eyes off of the media coverage, as extensive as it’s been.  I think I was overcompensating because when the news first hit I was too busy and far away from a TV to immediately soothe myself with The Making of Thriller on loop for hours on CNN. 

Everybody else was getting their MJ fix with funky Motown compilations of Little Michael singing his way into Weird Michael, and poor me, I was left to suffer in silence, stuck in yucky meetings.

Well, I made up for it by subsequently planting myself in front of the telly with my dancing shoes on.  My knitting took the blow into the backseat.

Does that excuse fly?

A few parting words on MJ, because really, it does suck that he died.  I know he’d turned indisputably wacko and all, but still.

All I could think of last week was dancing with Sissy B in our Flashdance outfits on the shag carpet in the basement, rewinding and forwarding the Thriller cassette a few hundred times to get Billie Jean and Beat It to play ad nauseam. 

Those dance routines were in tip-top shape for our stage debut in front of Dad’s video camera.  I think I’ve mentioned this before.  I fell down a few times.

Not ready to post that clip yet.

Anyhoo.  Farewell, Michael.  Object of my teenage affection.  Source of my delight on the big Grammy night.  Enabler whenever and wherever I want to Blame It on the Boogie, from now until I just can’t boogie no more.

In the absence of knitting news, I did want to make mention of a little gem I discovered in the way of yummy treats.

Allison over at The Whole Ball of Yarn(s) is open for business with Lilah Bug Bakes.  She’s the kind of person who comes up with recipes for things like Mojito Truffles, so you can understand why this chickadee has my attention.

Holy Yummy. 

Check her out.   Totally bookmark-worthy.

Upon learning about her store (after months of drool-inducing evidence of prowess in the kitchen had mounted on her blog), I scurried on over to her website to see what she had on offer. 

And then I ordered. 

Oh, the goodness she delivers with fresh-picked berries and the occasional irresistible twist (chocolate! amaretto! ginger! wine!).

When I received my package after ordering, I tore into the box to find two jars of Agave-Sweetened Strawberry Vanilla Jam and a jar of Bittersweet Chocolate-Pear Sauce.  There was some Pear With Caramel, Lavender, and Vanilla Sauce in there, too.

I went a little overboard in my initial sampling of each.

It started out innocently enough.  I thought I’d have a tasting party.  Um, a party for one:  these were my own sneaky treats.  I opened them when no one else was home to bust me. 

I tried the Strawberry-Vanilla Jam on bread, on bread with butter, and on bread with peanut butter (so it goes, right?).  But then I cracked open the Chocolate-Pear Sauce and drizzled it on vanilla Häagen-Dazs that I went out especially to buy.  Hey, the sauce needed a suitable partner.

Then, a few hours and a Corona or two later, I waddled to the freezer for another scoop of ice cream (”Those containers need to be bigger,” says my tummy; “Noooooo!” says my waistline).  This time I put the Chocolate-Pear AND the Strawberry-Vanilla on top.  OK, and a tiny dollop of peanut butter, since it was already out.

What a little piggy!  Oh well, we all need a bit of excess now and then.  (Wait, can there be only a bit of excess? or does it have to be a lot of excess? or maybe just plain excess?) 

On a healthier note, my proto-garden is still taking baby steps.  Any forward progress I consider a victory.

The tomatoes didn’t take the first time so I had to re-plant the seeds when they didn’t show signs of life after two weeks.

The one plant in front has been flaunting its comparative girth in front of its tiny backup dancers. 

I’ll transplant a few of them now that they’re growing (note that this is well outside any gardening skills I even pretend to possess) to give them all a little more room to accommodate the fatty in front.

The beans took off running from the beginning, so they’re considerably ahead.

Let’s see if these guys can hold my attention long enough for me to notice if and/or when they actually bear fruit.

Bear veggies.

But technically the tomato…really fruit…right?  Whatever. Something’s growing.