I’ve Got Owls. Yes I Do.
I've got owls. Yes I do. I've got owls. How 'bout you?
I'm sure you've noticed recently that owls are the new trend. Owl earrings. Owl jewelry boxes. Owl cookie jars. Owl hot plates. Owl figurines. Owl everything!
I heart owls. I also sort of hate that they're so trendy now.
Do you ever really love something then realize it's so totally in style right now? I hate that! There's always that little voice taunting me in the back of my head calling me a sheep and inferring awful things about brainwashing and bandwagons. Stupid voice. I wish it would shut up.
Like polka dots. And turquoise. And vests. And damask print. And vintage style. And now owls.
So you can never be sure if your love of said thing is sincere or if you've just been made to think it is.
Really though, does it matter? I'm just happy to love stuff. And I do. A lot. Is that bad? Does that make me materialistic? Oh, who cares!
Do you remember my rant about my love of design on a dime schemes? While I very much love stuff, I'm not prepared to pay a lot for said stuff. Instead of shopping to buy things, I shop to get ideas.
So a while ago I saw these adorable and unfortunately a little country owl figurines at the Dollarama. I love their expressions and how each is uniquely cute. But that green is bleh. Just downright awful looking.
I had one of those light-bulb-over-head kind of moments. Instead of buying this sweet little owl lantern or this cooky owl cookie jar I decided to make my own for a fraction of the cost of course. I could spray paint these cheap little cuties whatever colour I wanted to fit into any colour scheme I desired.
So there you have it. Four modern trendy owl figurines for under ten bucks.
So Next Season.
I know, I know. I'm weird.
Who makes something maple flavoured in the Summer? In case you can't see, that would be me reluctantly raising my hand.
It's like I'm just asking for it. I'm tempting the fates. Tomorrow all the leaves are going to turn orange and fall from the trees. And it will be all my fault. If that happens I take full responsibility. And if that happens you'll at least have some appropriate cookies for the premature Autumn season.
I guess I could have tucked away this little gem and waited patiently for the next season. Do I strike you as a patient person?
Let me explain the method to my madness. Remember when I made these Maple Bacon Oatmeal Muffins? Well I had some maple syrup leftover and I couldn't see that sugary heaven go to waste so I planned these lovely Maple Banana Whoopie Pies.
I had exactly one cup of maple syrup left. Did I plan it that way or am I just that lucky? Why can't I be lucky with something useful like the lottery or Kitchen Aid giveaways? Whatever. I'll take what I can get.
And if licking the measuring cup clean of any maple syrup residue is wrong then I don't want to be right.
Cupcake Confessional.
I have a confession to make.
Are you ready?
Like really ready?
Ok, here goes.
I'm 41.
Ok no, not really. You should see your face. I couldn't keep a straight face on that one either.
Let me clarify. According to my Wii I'm 41. My Wii thinks I'm 41. Should this offend me? Because it does. I have been insulted by a tiny white box.
I took the Wii Sports fitness test last night and let's just say the results were less than desirable. Really though, what does the ability to volley a virtual tennis ball into a target have to do with my level of fitness? Or the talent of dodging virtual training balls being lobbed at me randomly? Or being able to curve a virtual bowling ball? I'm quite good at that one by the way. One of those life skills that will certainly come in handy in the future. There will be a bowling ball curving emergency somewhere someday I'm sure of it.
Basically the Wii is an elaborate game system designed entirely to make you look stupid. Yes, the truth is out folks. Let's be honest here, it's not like you were really worried about looking cool while cow racing, swerving around goombas or collecting star bits.
I dare you to try to not wave your arms around like a spazz while boxing and whip someone in the face with the nunchuk cord. Yeah that didn't happen. I dare you not to get the overwhelming urge to whip the remote at the TV when you miss the tennis ball for the umpteenth time. That may or may not have happened. Tell me you never threw a temper tantrum and blamed the game before. Tell me you were never in a bad mood for half the day because you didn't round that corner just right to avoid the Shy Guy. You never slung insults at the screen after falling through the same star shaped hole in the Rocky Road?
No? Just me then? Oh.
Maybe I'm bitter because my Wii called me 41. Maybe I've been eating too many of these Devil's Food Cupcakes. Maybe it's worth it.
Yes. Yes, it definitely is.
I’m Cool Like That.
Like most of you out there I've been trying to figure out any way possible to avoid turning on the oven in this summer heat. Lots on BBQ pork chops and salads. It's not enough to avoid heating up the house but I'm also trying to devise ways to cool down too.
Sitting directly in front of the air conditioner is good, if not a little restricting.
Pony tails are nice. Just the act of getting my thick hair off the back of my neck is a relief.
Popsicles help. Yes they do. Especially the orange ones. I think they're a couple degrees more refreshing.
Ice cream too. Oh my yes. Lots and lots of ice cream.
Have you ever been to a Marble Slab Creamery? If not you need to get yourself to one as soon as humanly possible. You'll thank me later. It's custom. It's fancy. It's expensive. It makes you feel like you should be clutching your White Chocolate Raspberry Swirl chocolate dipped waffle cone with your pinkies out.
After reading a recent post by Brown Eyed Baker on how you can make ice cream without an ice cream maker it was decided. I needed to do this. There was no way around it. I do still plan on getting an ice cream maker attachment for my Kitchen Aid stand mixer, but in the mean time I can still live it up in custom made ice cream fabulousness.
But I made it frozen yogurt because I kind of prefer it. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Love Muffin: Maple Bacon Oatmeal.
Yeah you read that right. Ladies and gentlemen, that was no typo.
For those of us who just can't make up our minds in the morning. I give you the ultimate breakfast. It's like four breakfast meals rolled into one. It's a bowl of oatmeal. It's a stack of pancakes. It's a handful of bacon. It's a muffin... umm obviously.
Breakfast. Of. Champions.
These days we're discouraged from eating things like greasy bacon and pancakes slathered in syrup and here I am combining them. No, I'm not trying to kill you. There's some oatmeal in there so that's got to count for something, right? The healthy power of oatmeal might magically counteract the unhealthy evil of it's breakfast foes.
You can pretend it's healthy. Like I do.
Or just shirk the rules and shove them in your mouth. Like I do.
Blondies, Who Knew?
So there I was in my kitchen, my mouth hanging open in a frozen gasp and my eyes popping out of my head. It was one of those eureka moments. You know the one. Brownies not made of dark or milk chocolate but white chocolate. I'm clearly a genius.
Not.
Then I was left with the difficult task of naming my brain child. Whities was a bad choice for obvious reasons. Plus they wouldn't really be white. It's kind of difficult to bake white food. So beigies? No, that's just lame and rather hard to pronounce.
Naturally I couldn't get it out of my head. So I googled it like a good obsessive compulsive person and, to my great disappointment, I not only found a name for them but also found they already existed. Blondies. There's not much left in the world that someone hasn't already thought of. Silly me. I never would have thought of that.
Blueberries were on sale. I like blueberries. Blueberries and white chocolate go together nicely. So there you have it. Sometimes it's best you don't over think dessert.
Now With Less Yeast and More Expletives.
This is the first time I made bread. Sad, but true. I've put it off for far too long and I decided that today was the day. I was full of misplaced optimism and enthusiasm. It was great.
Have you ever thought you followed a recipe to the letter and then you realize that you skipped one crucial step or forgot one key ingredient? Yeah, I wouldn't recommend you do that with bread. Like I did.
Which ingredient would you say is the most important in bread? That's right, yeast of course. So here I was covering my freshly kneaded hunk of dough to rise feeling pretty happy with myself. I reread the recipe for about the gazillionth time and I realized to my horror that I didn't add enough yeast. How could I have missed that? I added 1 1/2 packages of yeast, not the 2 1/2 it called for.
Needless to say there were expletives involved. Birds flew away. Flowers wilted. Squirrels ran for cover.
I half expected my dough not to rise at all and instead be left with a spongy glossy lump of stubborn goo. Either that or there was going to be an explosion of some sort. I don't know why when anything goes wrong I always brace myself for an explosion. To my surprise and delight I was wrong. So wrong.
French Bread with Brown Butter Spread. Hey that rhymes. And yes, it's as awesome as it sounds.
A Slice of Happiness.
I made a pie. Can you tell?
Did I bake this pie while dancing around the kitchen to Burn the Witch by Queens of the Stone Age? Why yes. How did you know?
Did I bake a pie while sporting an adorable navy blue apron with little red tomato polka dots? Of course! Seriously, where are you hiding?
It may come as a shock to you that this is the very first pie I've ever baked myself. I've aided in the baking of pies, oh yes, but that normally consisted of snacking on sugar and cinnamon coated apples or sitting impatiently in front of the oven. I've also aided in the consumption of said pies. I'm quite experienced in that area of pie expertise.
I've never actually rolled out the dough, filled the shell and covered that sucker up with more dough. I know, it's blasphemous really.
So I've done it. Here's my proof. It's scrumptious.
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