National Chocolate Cake Day and an Ironic Argument

Celebrate, people! It's one of the best days of the year. It's National Chocolate Cake Day! What could be better? Valentine's Day? I say not--because on V-day you have to wait for someone else to give you the chocolate, and there are issues and implications and heaviness and sometimes pouting or martyrdom connected to the chocolate giving/receiving.

Not so on National Chocolate Cake Day. Let's all just get along, and share the cake. Is it best with a glass of milk? Or will a scoop of ice cream on the side do? Sigh. I love it. And the frosting must be equal to the cake, I say. Frosting snobs, UNITE! Only the best for MY chocolate cake.

Kind of reminds me of when my oldest was a wee babe in arms and I had a package of Pampers from a baby shower with me on a vacation and my aunt (who still had a babe in arms, that's just how it is in families of Mormons, get over it) teased me about the expensive name brand diapers, "Oh! Pampers, huh? Because nothing is too good for my baby's bottom." Me? I answered. The world's biggest cheapskate? I'd buy diapers at yard sales if I could.

Anyhow, that maxim DOES apply to chocolate cake. Only the RIGHT frosting will do.

Does frosting have nutrients? If you use real butter, there's vitamin E. If you use milk, there's a dash of calcium. Man, it's almost health food.

No iron, though. Not even in the powdered sugar.

Which brings me to a different point about iron, I mean, IRONY. I keep being told that a lot of people don't get what irony is, and I've heard many complaints directed at that angsty Canadian singer (forgot her name right now) who sang "Isn't it Ironic" about rain on her wedding day, the complaint being that she misdiagnosed irony, thereby leading astray a generation of literary illiterates. I don't know. I never listened that closely to the song. I think I was in Japan when it was popular, or giving birth or something that kept me from enjoying the tunes on the radio.

My husband, who will be footing the bill for date night's dessert tonight (dare you venture a guess?), and I have been in a bit of an argument about irony this week. More of a debate, really.

So. We both were asked to speak in church on Sunday, and somehow he worked in the topic of pets, that we have been given the ability to choose for ourselves, and all consequences aren't immediate and God could make us obey if he wanted to, but he allows some consequences to come later, which makes us His children, not his pets, and so on and so forth.

It was quite interesting. I could even listen to his ideas, since my talk was already over and I could breathe and uncross my eyes, and stuff.

Anyway, the closing song was "Know This That Every Soul is Free," which includes this verse:

Freedom and reason make us men;
Take these away, what are we then?
Mere animals and just as well
The beasts may think of heaven or hell.

When that line about animals came up, we looked at each other in surprise. Hey, that's just what he was saying in his talk!

Later he said, "Wasn't that ironic?" and I said, no. Not ironic. Coincidental. And he said, Nuh-uh, ironic. And I said, Nuh-uh, coincidental.

Or was it?

I'm not sure.

Later, I noticed another aspect to the meeting. My dear friend the veterinarian, who had never been to our church before, had come to listen, and she has a super soft heart toward all creatures canine. In the process heard my husband's tangential points about shock collars, and why it's nice that God doesn't zap us when we make bad choices like a shock collar. Yeah, all the shocking discussion about shock collars. In front of our cute little vet. That seemed ironic to me.

Or was it?

I think it's going to take TWO pieces of chocolate cake to sort it out.

Got this from a site called "Chocolate Cake Party" -- Excellent!

http://www.chocolatecakeparty.net/chocolate-cake/

Halloween Candy Trickle-Down-Theory (and the Countdown=1)

It's Halloween. What kind of candy blogger would I be if I didn't speak up today?

First off, I'm still trying to avoid sugar ingestion. It's not going very well. I had to make sugar cookies over the weekend (and frosting) for kids' school. While I only ended up eating one (broken) cookie, which was a WIN, I think I probably ate a full cup of dough. Not a win.

And that cherry-vanilla flavored frosting was sooooo tempting.

Sigh.

As for today, I didn't resist the Halloween candy in the ENORMOUS bowl. We live in one of "those" neighborhoods; you know: the kind with street lights, and without mean dogs on the loose or large spiny cactus on the "lawn." Therefore, we get hit pretty hard. In fact, one year, I swear I saw a BUS parked at the end of the road and people piling off it, coming through the houses wearing masks and holding pillowcases. Seriously, folks.

The bowl has to be ready for such contingencies. Therefore, I bought
EIGHT bags of mini-candy bars,
two bags of Sixlets,
two bags of Smarties,
two bags of Dubble Bubble,
the biggest bag of Dum-Dums I'd ever seen,
a bag of Sugar Babies,
a bag of Tootsie Pops,
possibly some other stuff I forgot.

I had a friend mention on Facebook that Halloween is a day where you end up trading candy you DO like for candy you DON'T. But I think I've already established there's no such thing as candy I don't like.

This morning I've been experimenting with the "trickle down" theory of sugar ingestion. In other words, I've chewed about fifteen pieces of Dubble Bubble. Since I spit out the gum as soon as it started to get tough, I told myself I wasn't really "eating" sugar. Yes, I realize this is a form of lying to myself. But, dang, it was good. I love that pink stuff.

Meanwhile, the gum is helping me concentrate on my writing organization. Only ONE day left until NaNo begins, and even though I can see I was probably delusional thinking I could really do it this year, with all the other responsibilities that are flinging themselves at me, I'm still going to at least give it the old college try. Go, Aggies! Anybody know how the Aggies are doing this year, by the way? I never pay attention. Didn't in college, either. Ha. Good thing I married a guy who cares more about raspberries than sports. He might (if I can cajole him into it) dress up like Clark Kent for trick-or-treating tonight. It's perfect. I'll be my usual--the witch.

The Maker of the Treats!

The other night I took my PYRAMID of RICE KRISPIES TReATS to the Scout Court of Honor, and one of the boys said, "Wow, Sister Griffith. Are you the Maker of the Treats?"

Why, yes. Yes, I am. In fact, I'd really like a t-shirt that says this.

I'm still plugging away at my edits. Just a couple dozen pages to go! I can almost smell the cake I'm going to make for myself when I'm done. Mmm. Chocolate. The recipe from the side of the Hershey's Cocoa can, with the frosting recipe from it, too. (That delicious frosting has officially turned me into a Frosting Snob. I can never again appreciate a canned frosting.)

The Cake of My Editing Accomplishment Dreams

Of course, naturally I'll only be eating ONE BITE of this delicious cake, since I'm not eating sugar anymore. Well, not very much sugar, anyhow.

When I was 19 I worked in the Pepperidge Farm Cookie Factory for a summer. Perhaps I've mentioned this before. Well, the point of it was to earn money to spend on a trip to Europe with my roommates. I spent a lot of my time there looking like Lucille Ball in the candy factory, and probably cost the company more money than I made for them. It was a bit of a disaster. However, my sweet Dad put a poster on my wall: "As you work, think 'Eur-ope, Eur-ope, Eur-ope, Yurrr-up!'" It really helped.

Then the trip was the incentive for the cookie work. Now, the cake is the incentive for the writing work.

I work well with incentives.