Cats and Jammers Studio

Now I know what my problem is!

My ethnic heritage is half Norwegian/Swedish and half Italian. The way I figure it, that is my the source of my weight problem, because when it comes to food, my appetite is the offspring of a marriage between a conquering Viking who invented the Smorgasbord and a loving Mama Mia, chanting, "Mangia, Mangia!" In other words, I love good food and drink and enjoy a great meal with close friends, or even friends not that close for that matter, as much as anything in the world. And that love is simply deadly for the waistline.

After reading Jeff Gordinier's delightful interview in today's New York Times with Simon Doonan, discussing Donnan's new book, Gay Men Don't Get Fat, I think I might develop another theory: I eat like a straight, macho guy, or, at best, a healthy Lesbian who likes to climb mountains and hunt. The solution is pretty straightforward, if not "straight": I need to eat like a Gay Guy: sushi, salad, berries, light, light, light.

Don't get me wrong. I love all that stuff, like whole grains, salads, and fish filets and legumes. The problem is that I love them to excess, like  hungry Nordic lord or a zoftig  Italian Grandma. I also love Meat. Almost any meat. Burn the hair off and serve it up. Not good, even in small amounts.

I have to say that I found the interview totally entertaining and that Simon Doonan came across as a person I would love to get to know better--probably over a hearty meal with lots of red wine, instead of a light lunch. The dry humor and quick wittedness apparent in the article have only whet my appetite for more, so I think I will have to read some of his other books,  like Wacky Chicks and Eccentric Glamour, to consume some more of his entertaining repartee.

Meals. Appetite. Consume. Sigh. It's all about food in the end, isn't it? Oh, well. Pass the champagne. I'll toast to that.

Now off to get the books. Check back for a review at some point.

Daily Dose of Humor, Part II: CAKE WRECKS-Sweet!

 All photos courtesy of Cakewrecks

Here is the problem when you like to blog and when you also like to read the blogs of others: it all takes time, and on any given day, I seem to have less and less of it. Truth be known, when it comes to choosing between entertaining myself reading what other people have written or attempting to wax poetic myself and share my thoughts with readers, I choose--you guessed it--entertaining myself! Surprise, surprise!

In the blog post before this one, I wrote about getting in my daily dose of pick-me-up at Awkward Family Photos. Love the site. Can't stay away. Can't stop laughing. 

But my other, equally enjoyable place to visit and find a smile on my face and maybe even tears of laughter in my eyes is CAKE WRECKS. Cake Wrecks is exactly that--a blog devoted to the so-called professionally done cakes one can buy in a bakery, supermarket, or wherever, that are, in a word, wrecks. As defined by Jen Yates, the genius behind the site and the book that came out of the site:

 WHAT IS A WRECK?

"A Cake Wreck is any cake that is unintentionally sad, silly, creepy, inappropriate - you name it. A Wreck is not necessarily a poorly-made cake; it's simply one I find funny, for any of a number of reasons. Anyone who has ever smeared frosting on a baked good has made a Wreck at one time or another, so I'm not here to vilify decorators: Cake Wrecks is just about finding the funny in unexpected, sugar-filled places."

 Cakewrecks Caption: "Poo-Dolph, the Bulldozed Slain Deer"

I am not overstating  how very clever Jen Yates is. While the shots of pathetic looking cakes are silly, it is Yates' writing that  makes the site such a treat. Her text, combined with some of the most ridiculous looking baked goods known to man, has perfect comic pitch and timing--if you can have good timing on a blog. I usually find myself laughing out loud in the same way I do at Awkward Family Photos.

As though being incredibly funny wasn't more than enough, right now Cake Wrecks is making money for charities. Here is info about the Cake Wreck Charity Challenge:

"Instead of buying gifts or trees or decorations this year, John and I are going to donate a minimum of $200 to a different charity or worthy cause, every day, for the next two weeks.

Are you up for my dollar-a-day challenge? Then give one dollar each day to each charity. That's it! Together, we can use the power of Wreckage for good, and make a difference for those in need."

Head over to the site and partake of the sweets and go back and check out some older wreckerators, too. Then be generous and check out the various charities and give a buck. Believe me, the kind of smiles that the site will give you are worth so much more.

Er....fair disclosure. If you do not have an appreciation for good old fashioned bathroom humor, the "flavor" of the site may be lost on you. Also, sometimes the subtle humor of the site is best appreciated by we (ahem) sophisticated adults. 

 
 

Lots of thanks

I'm gonna make this my annual Thanksgiving image. It is the first color illustration assignment I ever got--a piece on Turkey farms for Boston Magazine back in the 80s. Again, thanks to the late Stan McCray, the art director of the magazine when I was doing art for them and when I was just starting out as an illustrator. Stan was sweet, handsome and fun to work with. Because of Stan I have had the pleasure of being able to be a professional illustrator for more than 25 years.

And that's a good segue to the purpose of blogging today. To remind myself and everyone else to be thankful for all the good that we have.

Good health for my husband and children. Family and friends. Being able to spend time writing and making art.

To the powers that be: thank you, thank you, thank you.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tonight's the night...

Let's see...

Do I actually fry some Latkes? That means going OFF my diet. Not good, that. I see that on Planet Esme, she has a link to a gazillion varieties of Latkes, some without frying. I think I'll take a look. In the meantime, this is what I am thinking....

Daydreamin'

I'm thinking about a nice old fashioned ice cream soda. The kind you lose yourself in, just dreaming.

That's because I am trying to watch my diet and the last thing I should have is an ice cream soda, so I am dreaming about one--lots. They remind me of spring for some reason. Or should I say, spring reminds me of ice cream sodas.

Hey, maybe it all goes back to my downtown New Jersey childhood and countless lunches in places like Woolworth's, Grants, and many other Five and Ten Cent Stores like McCrory's in Newark. I can still taste the club sandwiches from that place, and I can still see the face of the woman who sat for many years at the cashiers stool.

I think EVERYTHING goes back to my downtown New Jersey childhood.