Candlestick makers... kindof

Before Three's wedding, Momo, Three, Five, Dr. P, C and I got together for some serious candle making.  With 60 pounds of soy wax flakes, spools of wick, sticks (no, really.  Mom went outside and gathered sticks with Five) vintage glasses, vases and some serious sister power, we popped out about 60 of these.  Candles were everywhere! It was rather entertaining...

Answers from questions last week: The red floral dress is an old Donna Karan number I picked up for a song somewhere a few years ago.  On lipstick, I never seem satisfied with a given shade.  I think this one was actually lancome color design sensational effects matte cream blush with a red gloss over it.  

Future Olympians?

This is How I Bake

You may not have heard, but Two just had a rather exciting birthday (meaning, in her particular case, a birthday). We westerners decided to host our own festivities with Two's birthday twin, sweet Grandma N. Happy celebration fancy activity words recipe:

Approximate Chocolate Cake

2ish sticks butter

1 cups (?) sugar

2½ eggs

1.78 cups sketchy pantry chocolate cake mix

[more than] 1 cup sour cream

Cream together sugar and butter. Add eggs one at a time. Alternate sketchy pantry chocolate cake mix and an ambiguous amount of sour cream. Mix until combined. Understand that, whatever you do, there's an 89% chance your sugar-laden cake won't come out of two 9-inch pans. Grease and cocoa them anyway, and divide the batter betwixt.

Cook for 30-40 minutes at 350 degrees. Cool. Attempt to dislodge cakes from pan. Fail.

Using an over-sized spoon, shamefacedly scoop your cakes onto a distractingly attractive platter. Assemble the slivers into a mound loosely mimicking their intended form. Set aside somewhere you won't have to look at it.

Whip large volumes of heavy whipping cream. While fluffing, add a long dash of almond extract and a smallish amount of sugar (~ a scant ¼ cup to every 1¾ cups whipping cream). Beat until nearly butter.

Separately swish a few pints of good looking berries around a bowl with some sugar until they glisten like a trashy magazine.

Remove your cake-like pile from hiding and quickly dollop all of your whipped cream onto it, making sure to cover the "top" and "sides". Further obscure the cake by piling on the shiny, colorful objects.

Serve with mint. Screw recipes. This $#!% tastes amazing.

S'meaches!

A few days ago, some friends and I were at Astro Boy's place - attempting to finish a project for work - when Astro Boy started to work on his own little project in the kitchen.  

Naturally, I no longer had much patience for work and went to see what he was up to.

He was cutting peaches, breaking chocolate, cracking graham crackers, and arranging marshmallows.  

He was organizing the necessary ingredients for

S'MEACHES

{s'mores + peaches}

A few months ago, Three wrote a post featuring a video about this intriguing treat and I soon became obsessed with the idea of eating them. 

Well, after finally partaking in these scrumptious munchies, I can say that the obsession was completely merited.  

They. are. so. good. 

New rules for how to have a worthwhile summer life:

1. Watch this video.

 2. Make s'meaches.

3. Watch this video.

4. Repeat step 2.

Married Life

"So how's married life?"

This has become the most frequent salutation used to greet me in recent weeks. Yet as often as I hear it--which is a lot--I can't seem to put my finger on an appropriate response. You see, "married life" is lovely, but after four years together, it's not too different from pre-married life. The thing is, before we got married, life was wonderful. I was in love, I gained a new comfort in my own skin, I felt safe yet challenged on a daily basis. In short, I was the happiest I've ever been. And that is why we got married.

So here we are, a  month in and none of those things have changed. The things that have changed are more or less minor (more minor: We wear rings and exchange an increased number of sappy texts? less minor: Dr. P gets to be in family pictures now!) So, I guess the appropriate answer to that question I keep hearing is this: Married life is life. And life is really, really good.

Birthdays and My Top 5+1 True Stories About Them

True Story: When I was eight, I had a camping birthday party.  We went up to the mountains with some of my best friends and family.  In the morning, One dressed up as a mountain nymph and my cake floated down the creek.  It was awesome. 

True Story: I spent my 18th birthday eve in an inconsolable fit of tears that time was stripping me of my well-earned childhood.  I felt I had never done anything to deserve the fate of becoming a grown up.  It was just too much.  

True Story: I lived in Florence during the hottest summer on record -- at least to that point.  They don't really "do" air conditioning there and we'd had 40 consecutive days over 95 degrees.  You get used to it, but it was starting to take a toll.  That week, there was a fire the next hill over from us.  They got it under control, but the heat was simply out of hand.  The night before my birthday, I said a little prayer.  It went something like, "I am so grateful to live here and to be singing and doing what I love, but if there is any way possible we could have some rain, that would be the best birthday present ever."

The next morning, I awoke to a cool rain.  Which was also awesome. As was my midnight party, led by Z, Momo, Three, Four and Five

True Story: Last birthday, I doubted I would make it to this birthday.  

True Story: We've had another record breaking heat wave this year, but this time it's in DC.  Saturday, the heatwave broke again, with mists of rain and lovely, Seattle-like weather.  It was the perfect accouterments to lovely celebrations by Mr. Two, Three, Dulcia, Mimo, Brother L, and Eurry.

True Story: I made it to this birthday which is a miracle.  Thanks to all of you who prayed and thought and willed me to get here.   Things have changed from when I was 18... aka, I really like my birthdays now!

From Top to Bottom: Fire Station on NJ Ave. By Art and Soul;
Druid Hill Park; Baltimore Botanical Gardens; Hamden Candy Store:
Me and Yoni (can you find me?); Spoils; Best Girl Store EVER (Shoes
&Chocolate. Need I say more?); Cute shoes; Cafe Hon; Bowties and boy things; Thanks for
coming back to town Daniella.  We are a little worried.  You've changed
a LOT since leaving for Australia. I think we need to talk.; Unexpected
visitor 2; rain for my birthday.

Bliss

Last week, the babes and I stowed away on an impromptu work trip to Orange County. Mr. One worked long hours, and it was generally a poorly planned, last minute adventure that left a wake of unfinished business back home. 

Totally, totally worth it.



Odds

Going to United Artists' midnight showing of Batman in theater #4 doesn't mean I deserve to live more than someone who saw Century Cinemas' midnight showing of Batman in theater #9. My belly twists to think of those enduring a desperate reality of bullets and smoke whilst 10 miles away, my cola-filled bladder distracted me from its manufactured counterpart on screen. They died. I didn't. It's a fearsome and terrible befuddlement. My heart wrenches for those who love the injured or dead. I can only pray they'll receive more mollifying comfort than that conceivable by me.


http://www.denverpost.com/breakingnews/ci_21118201/unknown-number-people-shot-at-aurora-movie-theater

With love, from lunch or Food Says The Darndest Things!!

My friend W came over for lunch the other day.  We've known one another since I came to DC like the best friends, I think we drive one another crazy sometimes.  Nonetheless, she is a really amazing friend; she's always there when I need her most.  We've been busy but we finally got to sit down to chat.  I made some sandwiches and a quick, summer salad with arugula, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, greek olives and a lemon dressing (SO good!).  I set it all out on a plate and look what I saw?  Not the highest quality picture, but I think it's darn cute -- especially for a friend I love so much!! 

I've got a special date. . .

I'm really sorry to all of our friggatriskaidekaphobic readers.


Today must be really hard for you.

Lost in Translation or Why I Love My Momo

The day before the wedding we had a pithi or haldi ceremony. My sweet family was busy baking wedding cupcakes, and putting the finishing touches on the 70-odd candles we poured, so only Momo was able to accompany me. The ceremony was beautiful, and playful, and bonding. All of the matriarchs came to give Dr. P and me their blessings and anoint our heads, shoulders, hands, knees and feet with turmeric paste. 

When Momo and I got back to camp-TD I overheard her telling my sisters about the meaning behind the ceremony. "You anoint the head so that the couple's thoughts will now be only for the good of each other." She said. "The shoulders are anointed so that the newlyweds will be upright and honest before their communities and before God. The hands symbolize tenderness and compassion, and are supposed to remind the couple to lift one another up. The knees are for strength, because a marriage is like tending a field. It's hard work, and some might grow faint, but by sharing the burden, the load is lightened and the fruits plenty. Finally," she added with a stern look to me, "the feet represent life's path, the past, present and future. This last consecration reminds the new couple to move forward while never forgetting where they are from." 

"Mom, that's really beautiful, I had no clue!" I said, because I was dazzled. The ceremony took place completely in sanskrit, and I seemed to have missed the explanation amid all the anointed hubbub. "Did someone translate everything for you?"

 To this she flashed her sweetly assured smile and said quite simply "No. But really, it was all quite obvious."

Momo's interpretation suits me just fine, and for the time being I have very little interest in discovering its true authenticity. I think we're going to have to start calling her "Momoji."

Momoji bestowing her blessing

Share it, maybe?

Via One. Thanks for sharing ;)

Addled Ardor? Ask 5.

Q: Okay, so here's the dealio: I've know this guy, we'll call him Shawn (because that's his name), almost 20 years.  Our parents are friends and it's not unusual for me to stop by my parents house and find Shawn chatting with my family.  Out of the many years we've known each other I've spent a fair few of them intensely curious about dating him.  Lately it's gotten more so, I kinda stopped caring about "what would happen if it didn't work out" since our families are buds, I just want to know if it'd work out. Life's short right? So, in an empowered woman moment I asked him to dinner, it seemed relatively date-like, but I'm not sure he fully got the gist that that's where I was going with it.  Gender roles have gotten so confusing and I don't know what I should do, what's too much, or how to maintain the "delicate" lady-like role (I mean, I don't want to be fully in charge of the dating relationship, ya know?) while trying to break through his thick man skull.  What's a girl to do? How do I make this happen? Suggestions?

As:

One (Thick-Headed): I once found myself on the flipside of a similar situation. A couple of years post-graduation, a school pal moved to my hometown. Our mutual friends were scattered across the globe, so it seemed the most natural thing in the world to hang out just the two of us, over lunch or dinner. He was smart and witty and charming, and we shared tons of super esoteric interests and experiences. Conversation flowed easily and always left me smiling. But I was totally blindsided when he confessed to feeling more than friendship. Things got awkward and we stopped spending time together. I was bummed, because I genuinely enjoyed his company. But, who's to say, maybe a clean break was better for him. You need to ask yourself which worst case scenario is more unbearable: your existing friendship exploding into awkward nothingness, or your heart and dignity being subjected to the slow burn of unrequited love. Once you know, you'll know whether to play it cool or play with fire. If it's the latter, I say spell it out in English plain enough that not even the thickest-skulled caveman could misunderstand. As long as you maintain a ladylike smile, I don't think you need to worry about further jumbling post-traditional dating gender roles. Good luck!

Two (Indecision 2012!): I didn't fall in love until I started dating my husband because one of three pieces were always absent: It wasn't the right time, the right place or the right person.  Before you jump into this, I would recommend you consider those three things.  I know two women very well who have done this -- asked boys straight out about what their relationship was or wasn't or why they had never had a romantic relationship with a given boy.  One ended with assurance the relationship was NOT going to be romantic (ouch) and the other one is engaged to the boy she asked.  What made the difference? Who knows.  But I do know that the 2nd friend and her friend were a little older than the first pair and that they knew one another REALLY well.  They knew that there was a good chance it was the right person -- both had a vested interest in seeing whether things would work because they already knew that they cared about one another a great deal.  It was the right time in their lives -- they both were looking to find someone to settle down with and had lived enough of life that they wanted to find someone to live it with on a more permanent basis.  Finally, they were in the right place -- professionally, geographically, emotionally.  Ask yourself if those three pieces are present, say a little prayer, then do as you see fit.   

Three (Harsh Realist): How do you make this happen? Um, don't do anything else. 

I really appreciate your bold move in asking him out, but if he was secretly pining for you he would have taken advantage of your alone time and made it clear that you were cruising on a two-way street of love. And correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like that didn't happen at all. I know this sounds harsh, but in the words of a guy I know "men are only 'thick-sculled' when it comes to women they're not interested in." Ouch, I know, but he has a point. In my humble opinion, it's not worth the emotional trauma of chasing after him and having to face rejection head on. Especially if you'll continue seeing him around all the time. So, be proud of yourself, and take that strong lady-power places it'll be appreciated!

Four (Impressed): Oooh! The passion, the thrill--the intrigue! I find this to be very exciting. Clearly you're pretty balsy--which is cool. Aaanyway, I think a lot of elements factor into whether your presumptive paramour thinks your evening was an actual date. First, do you usually hang out together? Alone? For dinner? Did you dress up? Did he dress up? Who paid? You may want to ask some of these questions and--depending on the answers--reevaluate the situation. Regardless, you can always write him a quick note explaining how much you enjoyed your evening with him, and suggesting something else you two could do together. Depending on his response, you'll probably be able to see where you stand a little better. No matter what happens, congratulations on being an empowered woman! Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm one, too. After reading this, I'm not sure I would qualify...

Five (Highly Paid Analyst*): Awwwww dude, that sounds weird. For an insight into the Male Mind, I'll refer you to two sources: a previous lady-asks-guy-on-date Ask 5 (graciously answered by some of our favorite gentlemen), found here, and my very own psyche. It is possible that this man, much like myself, always finds a decidedly non-romantic interpretation of others' blatantly romantic gestures towards him. I can easily see how this obtuse boy could morph 'hot dinner date with strong, independent woman who don't play by no arcane "gender rules"' into 'friendly catch-up over a meal with old family buddy', because I've done similar things myself. It is also possible that this guy is a yeller-bellied-lily-livered coyote, put off by your strong, confident ladyhood (a.k.a. he's just not into you).

I think that you can choose either painful or disappointing. Painful: tell him plainly that you think he's neat. But say it like this -- "I romantically like you". As unromantic, indelicate, and potentially humiliating as this option is, it totally disallows any misunderstanding. Either he thinks you're super keen too, you get married, and have lots of fat babies,** or you end up avoiding each other's awkwardness at family BBQs for the next few months. Disappointing: let it go. Ignore the dude, release any notions of your amorous future together, and find another mister with whom to have lots of fat babies.** Or you could just listen to one of my sisters. Yeah. Do that.

*Full disclosure: I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about.
**Assuming you want fat babies. Svelte babies are also an option, as well as no babies at all. Whatever you're into.

Have a question? Ask 5. You'll have a 1 in 5 chance that 

someone will see it your way!

Just send your questions to:

fivetdsisters@gmail.com

Piñata Añatomy

One (1) balloon

Tape

Newspaper, julliened

Flour and Water

  Mix all ingredients                                                                                     Let dry...     ......

Remove rubbery pith

Decorate?

Old Town Spring

A few weeks ago, Astro Boy and I explored a little town called Old Town Spring. 

While there we visited an Amish shop with the prettiest painted stairs, beautiful fresh flowers--and mad-delicious red pepper jelly.

We saw some pretty awesome signs.

And ate something I never thought I'd consume...

Then we happened upon a magical shop filled with tiny ceramic birds, delightful greeting cards, giant wooden cages, massive marble cake stands, rainbow colored glass, hand painted tiles, and other whimsical bits and bobs. 

 It was a good day.