I never claimed I could cook

Some people have great gifts when it comes to baking and cooking and making pretty things to eat.

 I am not one of those people.

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If I ever do get married {excuse me while I go and laugh hysterically for a moment. [which, I might add, would be a lot easier if this suit's arms didn't tie in the back. How am I typing? with my nose.] The padded walls are nice, though.} ANYway, if I ever do get married and try a new recipe or something it won't be all "Oh, dearest! You're home! Look at this delightful creme de le creme I whipped up in my spare time!"

 No. It will probably be more like this: "Don't judge."

On this day, the recipe I tried was for moist red velvet cake. The recipe is absolutely sound, so if you'd like to give it a go you can find it here.
 Yes, the problem lies with me. It all started out pretty promising, I got all my ingredients and measuring devices out and lined up neatly on the counter. Pulled out my mum's big mixing bowl, turned up the Irish tunes, and tied my apron strings.
 It started to go pear-shaped about the time I realized my round cake pans are an inch larger than the ones called for. Well, I say to myself, an inch isn't much. and carry on greasing and flouring. This is where I usually get into trouble: Improvising & Estimating.
 Recipes, to me, are more like ideas than actual facts. Not because I'm experienced enough to do my own thing like Julia Child, but more because I have this subconscious {deranged & misplaced} hope that, whatever terrible and misbegotten things happen, somehow the outcome will be just like the picture.

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Well, I'm always right about one part: misbegotten and terrible things do happen. After battling with dye shortages and exploding confectioner's sugar sacks, angry beaters that spewed butter and cream cheese across the walls, stove top, and myself, I got everything reined in enough to pour the pink batter and commence baking. Because I finished the frosting earlier I stuck it in the fridge while the cake baked. Or at least that's what the cake should have been doing. It took nearly 45 minutes to get it to where it wasn't sticky in the middle, and by that time I had opened and closed the oven door so often to check, that they fell and got dry on the outsides and looked like very sad red pink velvets.

 Feeling a little deflated, I must admit, I set the sad things out to cool and got out the frosting. It being chilled was not in the least spreadable, so feeling exasperated, I must admit, I shoved the works into the oven to soften. I then opened Photoshop and promptly forgot about it, resulting in the thin mush you see above.

 And that, really, is the end of my baking adventure for today. It definitely isn't the worst thing I've accomplished, but nor is it a shining success. It is simply me being eternally optimistic. Don't judge.

....Enjoy the following....

My radishes poking up at last.

We had an extraordinary thunderstorm pass through the other day, and I had fun capturing it as it formed, when it broke, and the amazing farewell it gave us. But I couldn't fit them all into this post so I rebooted my Big Sky blog because I have a lot of overflow now that I have Jack. Click here.

And speaking of rebooted blogs, I think I'm going to start writing for Bristé again, those of you that are interested.

 {To learn about Bristé and how you can read it, check out The Writing Desk page.}

Til next time,

-Gwyn