Random Thursday: Random Edibles*

It’s Random!  It’s Thursday!  It’s Random Thursday!

This is a bit shorter than usual, because I still haven’t caught up on the sleep I gladly lost Tuesday night (and a bit of Wednesday morning) doing this. 

The general theme is probably due to the glucose tolerance test I had yesterday, which ensured that I didn’t eat anything before I visited the doctor’s office (because I had to fast) or for a eight hours afterwards (because the taste of flat orange Fresca mixed with corn syrup is less tolerable to my tastebuds than the actual glucose is to my system—bluuuuurgh). ‘Cause when I skip a meal or two, my focus narrows.

And yes, I already had a HobNob tag.  Why is this a question?

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Reason #683 why my friend Dee is Awesome

When she arrives at the weirdly cool restaurant she suggested for dinner before the amazing concert she made arrangements for us to see, she brings me these:

Hey, Dee:

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Twenty-Nine Seconds of Cake

 Is this awesome . . . or am I just projecting?

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Grootcake!

 You know what makes this even better?

It was created by a place called Tattooed Bakers.

Go check out their gallery, which ranges from elegant and whimsical to . . . um.

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Dancing Cookie Cake

 Julia M. Usher, whose website gives Martha Stewart a run for her money,
(ba-DUM-dum)
created this for the 2013 Oklahoma State Sugar Art Show,
which is now on my list of Dangerous Places I Must Visit.

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*Get your head out of the gutter, Kevin; this ain’t that kind of show.  Anda  limerick about HobNobs is too easy for you.  Do one on barszcz and we’ll talk.

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Don’t wait up

Way back in April, my friend Dee—who comments here sometimes and with whom I’ve bonded over librarianship, Leverage, husbands, muffins, and music—dropped me an e-mail:

Just FYI, I just found out the Piano Guys are going to be at the Civic Center in Des Moines in October.

Des Moines is within reasonable driving distance from our place—or reasonable for a chance to see this group live and meet Dee face-to-face, anyway—so I immediately replied that we totally needed to go.

And we are.

The tickets arrived in May and I’ve kept them safe ever since—so safe, I thought I’d lost them once or twice.*

But I’m looking at those two lovely pasteboard rectangles right now and soon my husband and I are going to hop in the car and escort them west, where we will trade them in for a night of good company and excellent music, and finally return home to grab a couple hours sleep until it’s time to wake the girls for school.

My husband arranged to have Sunny’s godmother pick them up after school and take them home, where they WILL be doing their homework and minding their grandmother, JANE—and you aren’t supposed to be on the computer, log off right now and finish your math or you’re toast—and tucking themselves in ON TIME, SUNNY—and I hope you’ve done your spelling module?

They’re both a bit befuddled that their parents are escaping running away going on an adventure in the middle(ish) of a school week—and frankly, so am I—but they’re stoked about being allowed to sleep  in my MIL’s guest room as a special treat, so it should work out all right.

Regardless, it won’t be my problem until tomorrow morning.

See you then.

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*Though not as safe as I kept the check I wrote to Dee the day after but didn’t actually mail until June.  Letters can be so unreasonable about mailing themselves, even when you go out of your way to find stamps to put on them.

Random Thursday: Matters of Taste

 It’s random.  It’s Thursday.  It’s Random Thursday!

I’m blaming the blood moon.

What’s your excuse?

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I have one question . . .

But I’m afraid to ask it.

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Violaceous

A house was recently put up for sale in Middlesex.

This wouldn’t be particularly interesting, if it weren’t for the seller’s favorite color.

They really like purple.

Really.

Like.

Purple.

There’s nothing wrong with this, of course.

Color obsession isn’t a moral failing, and at least the shades aren’t fighting each other.*

I do have to wonder, though, looking at the rest of the house,
whether this is actually a case of one ex-spouse saying,
“Yes, fine, I’ll pay for the staging of the house, but I get 75% of the profit after the sale.”

And the other spouse just smiling in agreement,
while pictures of purple sugarplums and “Price Reduced” signs
dance in his or her head.

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FIVE DAYS

Until I see these guys in concert!

I can’t wait, Dee!

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  No, Mr. Bond . . . .

I expect you to SIT.

Yes, I know this chair is more Blofeld’s style than Goldfinger’s
but I couldn’t bring myself to think about allowing
a long-haired white cat
in the same room with that upholstery.

 Talk about a view to a kill . . .

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Khövsgö Lake

Youri DeFrance (aka Youri Blow) is a musician and song writer who plays a variety of instruments.

Including all parts of his voice box.

Remarquablement . . . convaincant, non?

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*I confess that I’m just a tad little disturbed by the shag rug bathtub . . .  And the leather bowl chair next to it.  I’m not judging . . . but I’m thinking.

Random Thursday: Do You Wanna Hear Some Music?

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

If music be the food of life . . . then the apples are earwormy.

Or something.

It’s been a really long week . . .

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A Minor Anthem

No pun intended—I don’t know exactly which key or keys Chase Holfelder is using here,
and I’m too lazy to fiddle with the piano until I can figure it out.

But it’s very, very effective.

I think I may like this version better . . .

Is that wrong?

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Do You Wanna Topple Hydra?

(Via Watson, who knows how susceptible I am to both Disney earworms and little, baby Avenger memes.  Thanks a lot.)

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Let Vivaldi’s Winter Go

I should probably apologize for this.

But I’m not gonna.

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Lest I be Accused of Marvel bias**

Found this on Stjepan Sejic’s deviantArt page, along with fantastic art
which wasn’t inspired from the most insidious earworm on this planet.

So it should be safe to check it out.

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Entmusic

Bartholomäus Traubeck has found a way to play the life of a tree like an LP.

The result, which has been converted into piano notes, has a certain gravitas that Mr. Tolkien might have appreciated.

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*That, of course, is a lie.  The whole soundtrack has embedded itself in my cerebral cortex and cannot be removed without doing further damage.  I find myself singing things like this—no joke, this happened—to my children:

Do you want to pack an apple?
You can put it in your lunch.
It’s nice and red, will keep you fed,
And has a nice loud crunch!
You’re gonna contract scurvy
And then you’ll cry—
So what are you going to do?
Do you want to pack an apple?
It doesn’t have to be an apple . . .

‘Cause in the first time in forever,
We have a banana tree!
For the first time in forever,
No black spots can I see . . .

Give it to me straight, Doc.  Is it terminal?

**It’s TRUE.  It’s ALL TRUE.  >sob . . . <

Random Thursday: Texts, Rhubarb, and Random POVs

It’s Random!  It’s Thursday!  It’s Random Thursday!

I might have slipped in a mini-rant about three-fourths of the way down, but from my POV, I’m entitled.

Then again, who isn’t?

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It’s all in the POV

I had a manuscript like this once . . . Maybe twice.

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Spaß mit Deutsch

Courtesy of indyclause, who may or may not have suspected that Jane and I would be Rhabarberbarbarababbling along to this until our faces went numb.

It’s a good numb, though.

(Ist dies richtig, ‘mausi?  Weil mein Gehirn weh tut . . . )

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Texts with Time Sucking Superheroes

I double dog dare you to read just one of the conversations on Texts with Superheroes.

I’ve read ALL OF THEM.

The site, which is run by funnypersons Diana McCallum and Andrew Ivimey, does not pull its in-jokes or its language for the kiddies, so before you unleash your progeny on this site, you’ll just have to read them all yourself to make sure.

It’s the only way.

You’re welcome.

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It’s all in the POV, Part II

This image is titled
“Be Anything You Want to Be in the World, but Don’t Be This Kind of Couple”

My first thought?

What kind of  idiot thinks it’s okay to eat a sandwich  in a library?

Cooties don’t attract mice or insects.  Grow up and learn to read signs.

And you two:  Take a breath and go get a room. No, not a study room.  Sheesh.

(via Watson, who thought it, too)

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Christmas for Thirty-two fingers, Eight Thumbs,
A Slew of Digital Cameras,
and a Small Piece of Paper with a Drum Printed on it

You can stop watching around 3:22 . . . or keep going and add stuff to your holiday gift list.

Your call.

I subscribe to the Piano Guys YouTube channel, but missed this one anyway—
luckily, my friend Dee was there for me.
Thanks, Dee!