The Post About Laying Cake Pop Blame

Cake pops are a hobby of mine. Bakerella was the first to get me hooked and I've never looked back.

I've sat in my kitchen floor and cursed, but never looked back.

I try to even incorporate cake pops into the high holy days.

I make them for friends' birthdays, for coworkers, and for family gathered 'round the TV to watch parades.

And I get excited when friends tell me they are venturing out to make their own.

Unfortunately, I have some sort of baking amnesia when it comes to how hard these delicious nuggets are to make your first time.

Hence this text exchange with my friend Rachel during her first attempt at making cake pops:

Since technically I didn't apologize, she decided to outline her case on her own blog, Grasping for Objectivity in the post "The Night The Cake Pops Won."

I'll admit....her story is very sad.

And that's all I'll admit.

The Post About Wobble Baby, Wobble Baby

{Image: Me, Instagram, squirrels attacking below}

Let's just pretend it hasn't been a month since I wrote last. Okay? Okay.

I awoke Thanksgiving morning with a grateful heart and motivated mind.

I decided my favorite tree, pictured above, needed some tending. More specifically, IT'S POOPED ALL OVER MY YARD.

I resolved to rake some leaves and headed outside. I stood on the porch and realized it was cold enough for my pajamas to be insufficient.

Back inside.

I picked out a hoodie and headed outside. I stood on the sidewalk and realized it was quiet enough to need a distraction.

Back inside.

I conjured up a Spotify playlist and thirty-five minutes later, I headed outside.

Rabbit Sidebar: This "Rake The Leaves" playlist below is one of my better mixes.


And #2 is where this story really begins. Have you ever  listened to V.I.C.'s Wobble and NOT ACTUALLY WOBBLED?

Me neither. When he commands "big girl make em' back it up" I must obey.

Fast forward to leaves piling up, neighbor kids frolicking and me wobbling. Wobbling so intensely that one jump turn made me miss the concrete scalloped sidewalk paver.

I went down.  Hard.

I was wounded. I was whimpering. I was face down in my recently acquired pile of leaves.

Fast forward to this tweet:

May have to go to doc about possible broken foot. I’ll need you to help brainstorm a fake story to replace the real one. #nocomment
— Jamie Golden (@JamiesRabbits) November 22, 2012

So...there's that.

What about you? Any embarrassing injuries in your past?