It’s summer, we’re not travelling, much, so there’s no new news. Okay? Now let me get back to my book.
Well, though things might be slow, there was still some activity around the old homestead. This weekend, I made a cake. A layer cake with orange frosting, from scratch, because I can. This may all be part of Mary’s evil yet ingenious scheme to transform me into a 1950’s housewife, but I’m not quite sure yet. If I get a string of pearls for Christmas I’m going to be a little unnerved. No, make that a lot unnerved. I’ve been told, by my brothers-in-laws, that in order to assert my masculinity, I now have to make ManCakes. These are the same as regular cakes but utilizing masculine themes. Like GI Joe. Which is masculine, I suppose, if you are twelve years old. Which fortuitously, just so happens to be both my intellectual and emotional age. So my next cake may have GI Joe looking suitably masculine on top of the cake. Then we’ll pull him off, and lick the frosting off his very manly combat boots. What do you suppose a masculine frosting would taste like? I’m opting for bourbon and cigar.
Ah, I see I am not the first person to have developed the concept of the GI Joe Cake. When you Google GI Joe cake you get a digital crap-ton of hits. Though I think I might be able to improve on some of the efforts, or maybe not. Apparently making a tank cake is difficult.
Also there’s a new Doctor. Rejoice! I’ll admit it, I actually sat down and watched the live announcement, because I’m a nerd. No a MasterNerd. Like a Master Chef, but without the marketable skills. Unless you can actually make GI Joe Mancakes and get paid for it? I thought not. Anyway, I now have a new Doctor, as I said, that I can bend Mary’s ear about, for hours and hours, to her obvious undying delight.