Ashes and Altitude

Now don't get me wrong. I am a great baker. I bake things from scratch. But when we got here I realised I had to start altering my recipes to accommodate Mr. Altitude. And it did not do one single ounce of good. So I reluctantly turned to the help of the boxed mix stuff. But Mr. Altitude has even foiled Betty Crocker and the cute little Pillsbury Dough Boy. Even after using the "high altitude" directions they print in minuscule type on the back of the box. Greg gave it a go a few times, but his brownies dried up, cracked, turned really hard around the edges, and then died. In the bin they went. I thought today would be a nice day to try again. So how about a lovely white cake with scrumptious chocolate frosting. I had high hopes. Really, I did. Got the Kitchen Aid mixer all cranked up, let it mix, mix, mix and then popped the batter into the oven. It baked. It smelled wonderful. For once the tops of the cakes were not all cracked when they were removed from the oven. They cooled. When it was time to remove the cakes from the pans, they fell apart. It looked like something that comes out of a 7th grade Home Ec class. A really BAD 7th grade Home Ec class. It was sad. Very sad. I tried not to curse the cake, the altitude or the cute little Pillsbury Dough boy, because, well after all, it IS Lent. So I abstained. And before you ask, of course I greased the pans and added a wee bit of flour to boot. It just doesn't help. Maybe that is why there are no bakeries in this area? Could that be a clue?? Anyhow I still frosted what was left of my two layer cake. I debated taking a photo to attach below, but you guys would laugh far too much.

It tasted ok. But was just, ehm, in several pieces once on the actual plates. My family devoured it anyway.

So, yesterday we did the 11.30am Mass. The church was fairly packed, full of Catholics awaiting their ashes. All was fine until the first batch of folks lined up to receive them. Clare suddenly decided to freak out and said kind of loudly, "NO NO NO...I am NOT doing that." Now she knows the logic behind it. She has had it done plenty before. But yesterday, for some reason, she just was absolutely refusing. She still had to walk up there with us, after all, we weren't going to leave her sitting there in the pew by herself. The whole way up there I whispered bribes to her. That didn't work. She proceeded to put Jessie the Yodeling Cowgirl (from Toy Story 2) over her face. By the time we were standing in front of the priest I had two options. Let it go. Or force her. I chose the first option. Otherwise I knew she would be screaming bloody murder. And for a few brief seconds, I imagined if I did make her uncover her face and let the priest give her the ashes, the entire church would witness a scene from The Exorcist. She might start hissing, screaming, turning her head 360 degrees....maybe even a 666 might appear on her forehead. Ok, so my imagination had the better of me. But the way she was recoiling in fear the closer we got to the front, that's what I thought could have actually happened.

To make matters worse, we have an Irish priest. He was marking those ash crosses on babies, toddlers, bigger children, all of us adults. EVERYONE. Having a grand old time. So the only thing I could think of when we got to him, Clare still covering her face with Jessie, mind you, was "Ehm, I think she's hiding." (Smart comment, Ande. Hey, note the sarcasm there) So he gave me my ashes and off we trotted back to our seats. I don't think anyone in the congregation noticed actually. But still, I was a bit embarrassed.

I think it is most likely my doing. I am always carrying on about germs, germs, germs. My five year old sees me covering my hand to open doors in public. She hears the lab folks at the Oncologist's office warning me about germs, germs will make me sicker; they fuss at me about staying far away from crowds when my counts are really low. She sees me obsessively cleaning everything in sight all the time. So I suppose she thought,"hmm, ashes = germs." Oh well. Maybe by next Ash Wednesday she will see the rest of her class receiving their ashes, since she will be in Parochial school by then, and go ahead and realise none of them were seriously harmed by it. I guess.

Someone outside is revving up an engine of some sort of monstrous sounding vehicle. It is literally shaking our house. This has been going on for about 45 minutes now and seeing how it is 11.30pm, it is just plain rude. I have ventured out into the freezing cold night three times now to see who the culprit is. But have come to the conclusion it is either a ghost car or it simply is not coming from our neighbourhood. Nonetheless, it is quite annoying. I'm telling you, people around here are so insane.

Must be the altitude.