What caused the extinction of the dinosaurs? Lego.

I guess that Finn liked dinosaurs for longer than 15 seconds. Looking back, we managed to accumulate a number of dinosaur related books, a stuffed stegosaurus who shares his bed with him and occasionally joins us at the table if we are eating salad (he's vegetarian), and approximately 800 million small plastic dinos of uncertain genus and species, which I shall call "spikosaurs" , the etymology of which will be readily apparent to anyone who has had to walk across Finn's floor in the dark. Still, we're not into dinos too much any more. Not that he dislikes them, it's just that there's little room for anything else in his head besides lego, either building, playing or whining for me or his mom to find lego instructions on the computer for him to "read" and "covet". I suppose there's no actual need for " " around covet - unlike the reading, which is aspirational, the coveting is very, very real).

Nevertheless, at the time of his birthday some months ago, he wanted a dinosaur cake. Lisa being rather pregnant and tired, she decided that the dinosaurs themselves could be represented by a selection from the menagerie that dwells in the boys' room, and she made a volcano cake in order to, as Finn would say, "extinct the dinosaurs so they are bones." The coolest part of the cake was that she built in a depression atop the cone, and put in a small glass bowl. When it came time to light the candle, she put in some chunks of dried ice and poured on some water, creating some nice eruption-like atmospherics. It was actually a little hard to see at the park, but the kids all really liked watching the dry ice fizzle. I'd like to think that I did contribute in some small way to the cake, insofar as I was the one who had to drive to the random gas-station/truckstop in west oakland that sells 10 pound chunks of dry ice. I can't imagine too many of lisa's pastry oriented competitors roll down there too often.

The party was a big hit with Finn's classmates. They hunted in the sand pit for dinosaur eggs (each contained a small spikosaur - my gift the the parents of his friends), had a dino themed treasure hunt and went at trays of plaster of paris encased dinosaurs (more spikosaurs - you're welcome people) with hammers and screwdrivers. The hammers were a big hit - while none of the kids displayed the patience and restraint of future archaeologists, they were certainly focussed - most ignored the dinosaurs and spent up to half an hour ensuring that every piece of plaster of paris had been reduced to dust before moving on to the next activity.

I can't believe that Finn's five already, and that the dino stage has already come and gone. Tune in next year for the lego cake, or whatever it is that will have swept into the imagination of the six-year old to be. Just please don't let it to be bakugan.

On tonsils and princesses

I'd like to say life moves quickly, but I'd just be trying to justify the slow pace of my blogging. Life moves on at its leisurely pace, with perhaps a touch of urgency brought on by the impending arrival of our newest cake afficianado, but I still can't manage to keep up with it in terms of blogging. So I'm going to compromise by writing about some stuff that happened recently, while posting pictures of cakes and pastries of yore. If you're lucky, I'll tie them together thematically at the end of the post. (hint: you're not going to be lucky).

So the biggest news these days is that conor had his tonsils out last week. He was one excited kid, waking us up the morning of (and the morning before, actually) at 5 a.m. to ensure that we wouldn't miss the operation. I'm informed that he was charming and perky all the way through, and confounded us with his ability to look cute even in hospital garb (see photo below). I arrived at the hospital just in time for his awakening from anaesthesia. Lets just say he was somewhat less perky. In fact his first words, croaked out amid screams of agony were "You are savages! You are savages and you are torturing me!!!". The dire imprecations that he hurled at the nurses were softened somewhat by his swollen throat and general grogginess, as they later confided that they had thought he was calling them "sandwiches".



Since the operation, he's been out of school and largely enjoying it. He's had a pile of new books to read, more TV to watch than he has in the previous five years combined, and visits from neighborhood kids bringing him icecream. Over the weekend, even his much loved first grade teacher Mrs Flanagan stopped by to chat and gave him a joke book and a star wars guide. The downside for conor has been the near constant throat pain that he has been enduring. The downside for the rest of us has been (i) his carrion scented breath, and (ii) his inability to swallow has necessitated (to his mind) his carrying around a small pink plastic dish that he refers to as "my spittoon". It comes to the dinner table. It sits by his bedside. It rests, precariously, on the couch as he reads. It is beyond gross, and I say this as the family member who has been permanently deputized to clean up after our elderly neighbor's spastically-coloned cat.




OK, now, how to link this to the cupcakes. Ummmmm, yeah. Well, Lisa made these for a friend of a friend's daughter's 3rd birthday party. From what I understand, she likes princesses, so Lisa made some snow white heads and tiaras out of fondant.

Sorry readers, i think you're just going to have to accept inapposite pastry photos as I go through the backlog of the last few years.

It's been a while...

but, considering my audience consists of two people, one of whom is the subject of this blog, and the other of whom lives across the street, it's not like you've missed much guys. Also, we have a much larger baking project underway, in the strictly metaphorical sense of the word, which should serve as a fairly good catch all excuse. It having been a while since I've done this, i don't want to sprain a writing muscle, so I'll just put up a photo of some of the eponymous she's creations.



Also, on the newsy weekend front, we drove up to Tomales Bay, bought ourselves a sack of oysters and then headed to Dillon beach. Rather than launch into an extended narrative, I'll sum up using quotes and paraphrases from the crew.

A+P "Snarf, gulp, snarf, burp".
L "Oh my god, I can't believe you're eating all of those oysters in front of a pregnant lady! That's so unfair!"
A+P "Snarf, gulp, snarf, burp".
A "I don't trust some* people. Case in point, I just knew those meth heads were going to lose the keys to their minivan"
C "Can I have another oyster? Can I have another oyster? Can I have another oyster?"
L (junior) "Can you cut out the gross bits?"
A "The gross bits are the oyster. Why don't you have a hot dog?"
P [Refrains from telling L what gross bits are in a hot dog]
Q + F [sounds of of digging for 3 straight hours]
P "We should take some home for B. I feel so terrible that he has to work today, we should at least bring him some oysters."
A "OK, I guess I'm kind of full now."

* A did not actually use the word "some" here.



Lisa and the boys