So I have this sister in law, and she makes cakes.
I mean like, cakes.
This was my daughter's first birthday cake. Yeah. It's pretty doggone fabulous.
And behold the Daddy-o's father's day cake!
(currently chewing on my shirt)
So she's pretty freakin' amazing.
(little cake she whipped up for her daughter)
I keep saying that she needs professional pictures taken of these masterpieces and then have them compiled to make a coffee table book. Isn't that a top notch idea?
Course it is.
Sister in law= Crème brûlée.
("I can be jell-o." "You're never.gonna.be.jell-o." Name that movie.)
I have a point here. But I'm too hungry to care.
Oh! Right. So she wanted to make a a baseball bat cupcake stand like this one:
and she was all asking about it 'n stuff, and then I just kind of took it over 'n everything. . .
I was all,
"Family emergency! Outta the way! Move it or lose it, sister!"
and I ditched my kids right then and there, and was shoving people right and left to run towards the garage and my tools.
Reunited and it feels so good.
The thing is, though--
I already had these disks sitting around that I'd made eons ago from a project that totally annoyed me and so they took a backseat to other projects, never to be seen nor heard from until now--
and apparently at my "other house", when we were cleaning it out, the Daddy-o found a small bat there, and he kept it because, and I quote,
"it was solid wood".
Good call, Daddy-o.
Except I thought this bat should be a darker stain, so I sanded it down and gave it a little espresso finish,
and if you look closely the disks were to be pepto bismol pink in another life, and thanks for noticing--
and then I thought it might be cute for the disks to have the baseball seams thingys on them,
and then we ended up with this, and I pronounced the work good. Well, mediocre.
If I were an overachiever, I'd have made cupcakes and staged this all cutesy. But remember, I am jell-o. You can't expect more from me.