Pinwheel Reel: My Oh My, it's the Fourth of July

Sunglasses: Wild Fable, Target

Shoes: Mix No. 6, DSW; Headband: Celebrate, Kohl's; Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Light blue bangle: Burlington Coat Factory; Royal blue bangle: So, Kohl's; Red bangle: B Fabulous 

Americana Rama Necklace

Dress: Lily Rose, Kohl's

Pinwheel: Hobby Lobby

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Modcloth

Patriotic Parrot Necklace

Striped top: Self Esteem, Macy's; Polka dot skirt: So, Kohl's

Scrunchies: Celebrate, Kohl's

Shorts: Merona, Target

Flip flops: Katy Perry Collection, Nordstrom Rack

Bag: INC, Macy's

Sparkly Sailboat Necklace

Top: Molly Bracken, Modcloth

Heart ring: Delia's; Headband: Lady Arya, Zulily; Bangles: B Fabulous; Bow bangle: Holiday Lane, Macy's; Red ring: Miami accessories cart; Multi ring: Wet Seal

Shoes: Impo, DSW; Ring: Making Waves, Ocean City; Yellow bangles: B Fabulous; Multi bangle: ?; Striped bangle: ZAD, Zulily 

Dress: So, Kohl's

Sunset Sail Barrette Brooch

Bag: Royal Monk, Modcloth

Funky Flag Necklace

Maybe I should've called this post Boat Brigade, given all the nautical paraphernalia.  Sailboats, anchors, marina flags -- even a parrot.  But it didn't have the same ring as Pinwheel Reel, nor its symbolism about keeping things spinning.

Because it was a whirlwind of a Fourth of July weekend, which means two outings instead of zero.  As you know, Saturday was my parents' BBQ, and today the husband and I went to Rita's.  I kept the Swedish fish theme going by getting that flavor gelati.  Sometime in between I remembered to eat the blueberries from the farm stand (I had to sneak in some antioxidants) -- and photograph our fortuitously red, white, and blue kitchen mat.  All of the flowers are at my parents'.  They're both gifted gardeners, unlike yours truly.    

The husband, Chippo champ. 

Life is just a bowl of berries.

Hi, Mom!

One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.

Flags of our flowers.

Blah backdrop?  Paint it mellow yellow!

Here comes happy!

I can't believe that another Fourth has come and gone, and that this marks the third one since the beginning of the pandemic.  But I'm still here and so are you.  And I think that that, along with America's birthday, is something worth celebrating.      

20,000 Leagues Under the Twee: Here's Lookin' at You, Squid

I ordered this Nordic Ware octopus cake mold from Zulily years ago not because I like to bake but because it was cute.  What I didn't realize was that I could use it to make my beloved JELL-O, which the husband helpfully pointed out.  So when it came time to decide what to bring to my parents' Fourth of July BBQ, I thought, why not?  If nothing else, then at least the kids would get a kick out of it.

I decided to keep the mold intact until it was dessert time at the BBQ.  The plan was to unmold Mr. Octopus in the privacy of the kitchen, then bring him out once I knew that he wasn't missing a tentacle or, worse, just an amorphous heap of blue goo.  But that pipe dream went out the window when everyone gathered around, my five-year-old nephew and three-year-old niece front and center and eagerly waiting.  The husband made a valiant effort to shake the octopus from his cage, but that stubborn mollusk stayed put.  Time for a hot water bath!  While the husband sneaked off to the sink, I said, oh, he'll be coming out very soon!, fingers crossed that there'd be no mishaps followed by the inevitable crying.  But when the husband returned and flipped the mold, I heard the unmistakable glop signaling that all was well.   

"It's a sea monster!" exclaimed my niece.  "No, it's an octopus!" insisted my nephew.  Whatever it was, it made its wobbly way to the dessert table, where I garnished it with Swedish Fish.

Most of us sampled some topped with Reddi-Whip, along with my mom's flag cake and blueberry pie.    Even my mom herself, who hates anything artificial, gamely tried a spoonful or two.  Of course, she thought it tasted like bubble bath or little girls' perfume.  She wasn't entirely wrong.  

When it was time to schlep the leftovers into a bowl, I couldn't help but notice that the eyes were still eerily intact, haunting anyone who dared come back for seconds.

Cartoonish yet all-knowing, those pool blue peepers bring new meaning to seafood.

Two Dozen Turkeys Wish You a Happy Thanksgiving

Last week the bf suggested we make turkey cupcakes. (To clarify, he was talking about cupcakes that looked like turkeys, not cupcakes made from turkey. Lest there be any confusion.) He got the idea from Hello, Cupcake!, a whimsical cupcake cookbook he'd given me as a gift some time ago. Incidentally, What's New Cupcake?, the second book in the series, offers a recipe for cupcakes that look like cooked turkeys, stuffing and all. We briefly contemplated making those, but they seemed too complicated. (Truth be told, I feared that even the traditional cartoonish turkeys would be too complicated. But I was too embarrassed to admit as much so early in the game.)

I baked the cupcakes (from a box mix). I frosted them too, as well as some of the gingersnaps that we were using for tail feathers. But after that I had to bow out. The thing about me is, I'm not good with stuff that involves mechanics, precision, or exact instructions of any kind. Not to mention that repetitive activities drive me batty. I said as much to the bf, who just laughed and said something about this not being news. So, he sat patiently at our kitchen table carving wattles out of Fruit by the Foot, whittling beaks out of orange Swedish fish, and freezing and frosting donut holes so that they could become turkey heads. I asked him if he was enjoying himself, and that if building things was to him what making bags and jewelry was to me. He said probably. He's a very patient sort, and I admire his discipline.

Our ingredients deviated significantly from those suggested by the book (which is why I'm not even going to bother to list them). For example, I was forced to buy M&Ms instead of candy corn because every superstore and drugstore aisle had long been wiped clean of any harvesty treats to make way for candy canes and red and green-wrapped chocolates. That made me angry at first, but now I think the more colorful M&Ms make for better "feather" accents anyway.

We're bringing some to his family's house and some to my family's house (hence the need for two dozen). I can't wait to see their faces when they see them. I can't help but wonder, though, if they'll feel weird about eating them, as I did last night when sampling a finished turkey head, eyeballs and all. But such moral questions are best left to days that don't revolve around eating turkey.