Monthly Archives: February 2015

The Beautiful Music of Cakes

Not all cakes are round or rectangular.  Sometimes, they’re square. (I suppose the whole notion of making cakes from “scratch” is kind of “square” but that would be a different blog post.) To make a square cake, you can use … Continue reading

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New Square

New square cake pan, that is. I’ve got my doubts about the recipe; only 5 tablespoons of butter?  That can’t be right. Results tomorrow.

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An Inside Joke

Monday again? Sometimes things just aren’t what they seem.  It looks like a mere dusting on my driveway; why did the sand truck just go by my house? Last week was such a “vigorous” week; I shoveled my driveway four … Continue reading

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Let All Cupcakes Keep Silence

Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a few winter hours considering things like “focus” and “distraction.”  This has been a wonderful winter for pondering anything deeper than “liking” a post on Facebook.  In fact, a Facebook post about shoveling … Continue reading

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Le Carême

Early morning, Ash Wednesday. Brighter than last year.

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Saint Helentine’s Day

What a weekend it was in Maine!  Fear and anxiety built all week as the weather puppets predicted a Valentine’s blizzard starting Saturday evening and churning its way through Monday morning.  Another two feet of snow?  Where would it go? … Continue reading

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Fuel It Up

As readers of this blog know, the song I sing is sometimes tinged with a plaintive tone of world-weariness.  The regular sight of pajama-clad shoppers slurping artificial yogurt through plastic tubes brings a dull note of mourning to my lips.  … Continue reading

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Cake for the Battle

Life is tough.  Whether you’re Charlie Baker, marshaling the full force of the United States government to dig out fire hydrants, or someone’s Uncle Timothy, there is always a battle.  The battle of life, ego, love.  You get the idea. … Continue reading

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Go, Johnny, Go!

When I moved home to Maine, I knew things were going to be different.  It was three hours to Boston instead of one.  Sure, there was Portland! Portland! Portland!  But life north of Maine’s premier city is simpler and I … Continue reading

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Oh My Papa!

Back in the days when I lived in my chicken coop-sized condominium, I spent a lot of weekends at the Motel Four.  That’s what I affectionately called the little house I grew up in.  Spring and summer Saturdays were for … Continue reading

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