One, Two, Three, Doh!

This whole learning a new craft thing must be good for the brain because it's making my head hurt.


Kumihimo, the ancient craft of Japanese braiding, is both "fun and relaxing" until the moment where you realize that the conversation in your head has gone from "one, two, three, four" to mentally yelling at the conservative guy Jon Stewart is interviewing. Then there's a pause. Then there's some pretend counting that doesn't really correspond to where you're actually at in the sequence. You're just doing it in the hopes that it will remind you of where you were and then you realize with horror that you're completely lost. This has happened twice. I blame Jon Stewart and my toddler.
After the shock and cursing had worn off I went back to the decidedly unhelpful little booklet to see if there was a "troubleshooting" section. There was no such section. I would like to take the time to issue a warning to all the new crafters out there. If a booklet has less than 20 pages it is like a good looking, rich, popular, high school sports champion. It will get you into trouble very quickly and it will feel no remorse. Maybe it should have been obvious that the secrets of the ancient Japanese art of Kumihimo could not be explained in a 10 page booklet, but I'm an eternal optimist when it comes to these things. Well, I'm somewhat of an optimist and I'm most certainly impatient.
Thankfully, the second time I made this mistake I had taken photos of each "point of braid". That's this...


and of the braid itself, as it was being worked. That's this...



So no all I have to do is find some quiet time when I can figure out exactly where I am in the braid...."Childrens do learn."

In other news, my husband celebrated another birthday recently. I made him some stellar chocolate, cherry, and black current cupcakes and a seriously tasty Greek spaghetti squash Spanakopita type thing.


The recipe for the cupcakes is in Nigella Lawson's book "How to be a Domestic Goddess". Boy do I miss watching her slink around the kitchen, plunging her finger into whatever unsuspecting bowl was silly enough to leave itself uncovered. She really is an Olympic champion of the Sunday morning lounge.
I substituted black current jelly for the cherry jam she calls for. The recipe was ridiculously simple for such a rich and sophisticated tasting cupcake. I'm sure there's a good argument against using the word "sophisticated" to describe cupcakes but I think that's a snobbish approach to food. These were gone in less than two days. Next time, it's marmalade.