You should all know that Jim? Is getting a wee bit nervous about my commitment to the sign thing and the possibility that I will follow some/all of your advice.

Well done!

So, Jim sent all of us going to the show this email a couple of hours ago:

I downloaded the Bruce Giants Stadium show from Monday, which so far sounds great. What’s really cool is that he definitely, as part of the show, takes request signs from the pit. So, at the risk of being real Bruce nerds, I think we should bring signs. I’ve got four songs I’d like to hear, if you can’t think of any:  Incident on 57th Street, Fire, Pretty Flamingo, Higher and Higher. 

While one of our friends immediately shot back that he weren’t gonna to be holding up no signage like some crazy person, I responded thusly:

I’m on FIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!

And then Jim wrote:

On the bootleg, he says if you decorate the signs, it stands a better chance of getting noticed. I guess you can photo shop a picture of yourself with flames coming up. Or better yet, you can make some cardboard flames and wear it as a costume. 

A bit later, he emailed me an alternative suggestion:

How about if we use a magic marker and write it on your forehead?

So here’s the deal. 

1. I am not entirely sure that Jim isn’t pulling my leg. He doesn’t usually go to these lengths, but I am notoriously susceptible to his sense of humor.

2. If it is true and I do make a sign, where would I put it? I am not bringing my purse into the pit, and I don’t think the pockets on the cute skirt I am planning to buy are big enough to store signage.

3. I generally make a spectacle of myself at concerts anyway, what with the screaming and the flailing and the pogo-ing and the hooting and the turning to whoever is standing next to me and grabbing their arm all pincer-like and the yelling “OMIGOD I AM SO EXCITED TO BE HERE AND I HAVE COMPLETELY LOST MY MIND!” 

3a. So would a sign take me over the top and bring out the dudes with the straight jackets?

3b. Or would it be part and parcel of the general insanity?

4. I am tempted to make myself a tiara of flames. Should I?

5. How much G&T and/or beer will I have to drink to get me to actually go through with this plan, and would that same amount get me so drunk I don’t remember the concert, because that would render the whole exercise moot, wouldn’t it? (And also, remember, in-laws visiting.)

Discuss.

I promised Eliza ice cream if she pooped in the potty. She delivered and received vanilla ice cream with gummy bears on it for dessert. Do other people bribe their kids to poop by offering food? And if you think about it, isn’t that really just setting up a vicious circle, you know, poop out, food in?

***

I saw Eliza for wiping her hands on her dress, grabbed a napkin near to hand and cleaned off her fingers. “Use your napkin!” I scolded. 

“Actually, dat’s DADDY’s napkin,” the smart-@$$ chirped.

***

Jim and Eliza are the house DJs. The following is not an unusual conversation to hear:

Eliza: “I want to hear Penny Lane!”

Jim: “The original version?”

Eliza: “Yeah!”

Nor is it unusual to see the fluffy-head zipping around the room in a blur to one of her favorite songs (mostly Beatles, some Who, Led Zeppelin and of course Bruce). Like her mother, she likes to run to her favorite music. This last fact is ironic in view of the fact that when we make her walk anywhere, she drags her feet and complains, “I don’t like walkinggggggg!”

I have, more than once, told her that’s what feet are for, but she is unswayed by my reasoning.

***

There was a big storm in the area this weekend. On one of our first dates, Jim and I sat on the porch and watched a storm roll by. We both think they are nifty, in other words.

Thus, on Sunday:

Jim: “Oh, is it starting?”

AM: “Yes!”

Both adults in the household bolt for the door to stand outside on the porch. After being pelted with leaves and branches during what appears to be some form of microburst, decide regretfully to go back inside. At least we didn’t bring the kid with us like last time.

***

On Sunday evenings, we like to play crack the whip in our living room. Eliza and I take turns being the tail. Mostly, she likes to egg me on, though, while Jim flings me around (it’s a short whip, what can I say). The challenge is to hang on until I’m past the fireplace and near the sofa so I don’t hit anything too hard. I’m not sure how this fine tradition evolved.

This weekend, Eliza demonstrated a cartwheel for us. She has the general idea of forward motion, except she just kind of rolls on the ground and waves her legs in the air. Jim challenged me to do a real one, which of course I then had to do and I didn’t pull anything. I challenged him in return and he also performed. 

***

We also have dance parties. Jim and Eliza DJ, I rate the songs on their @$$-shaking properties. Winner in that category this week was LCD Sound System’s North American Scum, which I choose to interpret as being about George Bush. At this point, I pretty much like to interpret all cultural references to unattractive, stupid, or jerky people as being about him. The Hives’ Idiot Walks was on my labor music CD, and I’m pretty well convinced it is also about George Bush. But don’t let that stop you from liking Bush. “One man’s coffee is another man’s tea, one man’s whiskey…” etc. in the words of that flaming liberal Bruce Springsteen. Which, HAH, Jim’s dad and stepmom are driving up to babysit Eliza because we have PIT TICKETS to see Bruce on Saturday. We have sort of glossed over who it is we are going to see, exactly, because Bruce and his liberal mayhem make my (otherwise lovely) father-in-law’s neckveins pop out. 

***

Eliza thinks shaving is pretty interesting, so Jim let her have some shaving cream on Monday, which is how he came to take the picture of the week, if not the month:

Ours is a girl:

And she has a tail:

What do you think? Do they have a future together? (Is he into kink? Because that might help, with the tail and all.)

(My favorite insult spam)

Last night, I made Chocolate Cake with Unappealing Ingredients. And yes, that is what I will be calling it in the future. It is delicious, and Jim agreed. Even the pre-schooler deigned to eat some. You should totally try it, because it is GOOD for you EVEN THOUGH it is chocolate cake. (That’s where the unappealing ingredients come in.)

The whole thing started because I had yet another batch of beets on my hands. I was going to go for Rösti: First Blood, The Crispening, but then I decided I couldn’t deal with another batch of flaccid purple latkes.

First I was going to make a yeast bread, but then I realized that the recipe would make 5 loaves, which seemed beyond our capabilities to consume, you know, by Christmas.

Then I remembered this chocolate zucchini cake Sarah posted a while back, which I keep making without the eggs in it and which it delicious. I figured beets have roughly the same consistency as zucchini, so I decided to take her original recipe and improvise.

Here’s what I did:

Chocolate Zucchini Cake with Unappealing Ingredients

Preheat oven to 375°, grease and flour one of those Bundt cake thingers.

In a bowl, cream together:
1 C sugar (the original calls for 2 cups, but I dialed it way back since beets are sweet)
3/4 C butter

Beat into the creamed butter and sugar:
3 eggs (I figured since I had so much beets, I’d better keep the eggs, since they’ll glue it all together)

Stir in:
1/3 C warm milk (I decreased the amount due to the juiciness of the beets. I might even have been able to leave it out altogether, I don’t know) 
2 t vanilla
3 C beets, shredded (packed, generous cups) (this is more than Sarah’s recipe, but it’s how many beets I had, so there!)

In a big bowl, sift together (I have no patience for sifting. I just dump everything in):

1/3 C ground flaxseed
1/3 C ground almond meal
2-ish cups all-purpose flour
1/2-ish C whole wheat flour (I increased the grains/starches I added because of the amount of beets I had — this was a notably bigger cake than the zucchini one. That one rises about 2/3 up the side of my pan, but this puffed out over the top.)
2/3 C cocoa
3-ish t baking powder (Eliza was in charge of measuring this, but I wanted more than the original because of the increased volume. However much it was, it was fine.)
2-ish t soda (ditto)
1 t salt
1-ish t baking spice
1/2-ish t ginger 

 Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients and mix to combine, so there are no little bubbles of flour. Pour equally into pans. This cake, before it bakes, is the most astounding raspberry-red color, and I was more than a little disappointed that as the chocolate baked and darkened, it lost its peculiar color. I was really looking forward to eating purple cake. So was Eliza. We got over our disappointment, though. Bake at 375 for 10 minutes, get paranoid that it’ll burn, dial it down to 360. Then fret that it won’t be done in time for you to leave for karate, and after 20 minutes, bring it back up to 375. It will take about 45-60 minutes, depending on how much you monkey with the baking temp en route.