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my-sick-obsession: About a year ago, I bought this book in the Rare Book section of Strand Bookstore in NYC. It is a collection of fairytales from the 1800s, and as soon as I saw it I was completely charmed and had to have it. I read the book through once or twice, and forgot about it and mostly just left it on the shelf. When my sister found out she was pregnant, I decided to give her the book to her as part of my gift when the baby comes, since I was so enamoured with the “Eastern Fairy Legends” I read inside the book. I took the book off the shelf, to have another look, and left it lying around my messy desk for the past few weeks. Because I can’t have nice things, the book got tossed around quite a bit, and I forgot it was even there; hidden beneath the pile of final papers. Tonight, as I was cleaning, I found the book again and was shocked and dismayed to find the spine of the book had broken. I carefully picked the book up to examine the spine and noticed, on the inside of the spine, printed words… FROM ANOTHER BOOK! Apparently a book called “History of All Religions”. The paper that made the spine seems to have been recycled from another book! Pretty Awesome! This is my favorite kind of discovery.my-sick-obsession: About a year ago, I bought this book in the Rare Book section of Strand Bookstore in NYC. It is a collection of fairytales from the 1800s, and as soon as I saw it I was completely charmed and had to have it. I read the book through once or twice, and forgot about it and mostly just left it on the shelf. When my sister found out she was pregnant, I decided to give her the book to her as part of my gift when the baby comes, since I was so enamoured with the “Eastern Fairy Legends” I read inside the book. I took the book off the shelf, to have another look, and left it lying around my messy desk for the past few weeks. Because I can’t have nice things, the book got tossed around quite a bit, and I forgot it was even there; hidden beneath the pile of final papers. Tonight, as I was cleaning, I found the book again and was shocked and dismayed to find the spine of the book had broken. I carefully picked the book up to examine the spine and noticed, on the inside of the spine, printed words… FROM ANOTHER BOOK! Apparently a book called “History of All Religions”. The paper that made the spine seems to have been recycled from another book! Pretty Awesome! This is my favorite kind of discovery.my-sick-obsession: About a year ago, I bought this book in the Rare Book section of Strand Bookstore in NYC. It is a collection of fairytales from the 1800s, and as soon as I saw it I was completely charmed and had to have it. I read the book through once or twice, and forgot about it and mostly just left it on the shelf. When my sister found out she was pregnant, I decided to give her the book to her as part of my gift when the baby comes, since I was so enamoured with the “Eastern Fairy Legends” I read inside the book. I took the book off the shelf, to have another look, and left it lying around my messy desk for the past few weeks. Because I can’t have nice things, the book got tossed around quite a bit, and I forgot it was even there; hidden beneath the pile of final papers. Tonight, as I was cleaning, I found the book again and was shocked and dismayed to find the spine of the book had broken. I carefully picked the book up to examine the spine and noticed, on the inside of the spine, printed words… FROM ANOTHER BOOK! Apparently a book called “History of All Religions”. The paper that made the spine seems to have been recycled from another book! Pretty Awesome! This is my favorite kind of discovery.

my-sick-obsession:

About a year ago, I bought this book in the Rare Book section of Strand Bookstore in NYC. It is a collection of fairytales from the 1800s, and as soon as I saw it I was completely charmed and had to have it. I read the book through once or twice, and forgot about it and mostly just left it on the shelf.

When my sister found out she was pregnant, I decided to give her the book to her as part of my gift when the baby comes, since I was so enamoured with the “Eastern Fairy Legends” I read inside the book. I took the book off the shelf, to have another look, and left it lying around my messy desk for the past few weeks.

Because I can’t have nice things, the book got tossed around quite a bit, and I forgot it was even there; hidden beneath the pile of final papers. Tonight, as I was cleaning, I found the book again and was shocked and dismayed to find the spine of the book had broken. I carefully picked the book up to examine the spine and noticed, on the inside of the spine, printed words… FROM ANOTHER BOOK! Apparently a book called “History of All Religions”.

The paper that made the spine seems to have been recycled from another book! Pretty Awesome!

This is my favorite kind of discovery.

Reblogged 3 weeks ago from my-sick-obsession 44 notes
boniverotica: Bon Iver and I went for a hike this afternoon. We stopped by a mountain stream for a while just to smell the cool air. He knew the names of all the trees and grasses. When I began to tire, he could sense it, and he started to whistle, clear and loud and strong.  ‘What’s that you’re whistling, Bon Iver?’ I asked. ‘It’s a song my grandfather taught me. They used to whistle it in the foxholes to keep up morale.’ We kissed, and I could taste the bittersweetness of his memories. Oh, how I love Justin Vernon.

boniverotica:

Bon Iver and I went for a hike this afternoon. We stopped by a mountain stream for a while just to smell the cool air. He knew the names of all the trees and grasses. When I began to tire, he could sense it, and he started to whistle, clear and loud and strong.  ‘What’s that you’re whistling, Bon Iver?’ I asked. ‘It’s a song my grandfather taught me. They used to whistle it in the foxholes to keep up morale.’ We kissed, and I could taste the bittersweetness of his memories.

Oh, how I love Justin Vernon.

Reblogged 1 month ago from boniverotica 438 notes
The body lies on the table, as if asleep. But the stench is unbearable. As if the soul has been replaced with an active, growing scent. The smell of wet cement combines with stagnant decaying flesh that cannot be concealed by the ammonia used to prepare the body. The dank, black cellar in which we all huddle over the graying corpse falls silent between the echoes that follow the professor’s high-pitched tones and our occasional ‘mmms’ and ‘ahhs’ of studious observation. The body is clothed in a flimsy white fabric barely large enough to conceal the man’s genitals, though I am certain nudity is no longer an issue of concern for him, being dead and all. He looks emaciated, as if Death himself was eating away at the man’s flesh, and not a symptom or indication of the life he led before passing. The professor stands tall above, offering his intelligence to the rest of us, as we press close into each other to see the veins and muscles that lie naked underneath the sliced skin. I find it absurd, how warm our moving bodies feel together, how the heat from our breath radiates onto someone else’s back, an assurance of life, while the man lying prostrate on the table below no longer has the same luxury. He will never again. The immediacy of life and death in this tomb beneath the ground awakens my senses more than usual, and I wonder what it would be like to be someone else. If not the dead man, who has gone to another world bereft of these human limitations, then perhaps the man in front of me. Or even our professor. A light shines from the only window in this cellar, grim and dusty pale over his face. He looks down on the dead man, onto us, as if to say, “This will one day be you. These tendons, bones, and blood - we all share. It doesn’t matter how deep the cut goes or how much we tear back our flesh. We are of similar matter. Look at this muscle. There is no life to flex it anymore, but it remains strong, connected to the other ligaments and bones.” I feel nausea overwhelm me.  (impromptu fiction writing class exercise) View Larger

The body lies on the table, as if asleep. But the stench is unbearable. As if the soul has been replaced with an active, growing scent. The smell of wet cement combines with stagnant decaying flesh that cannot be concealed by the ammonia used to prepare the body. The dank, black cellar in which we all huddle over the graying corpse falls silent between the echoes that follow the professor’s high-pitched tones and our occasional ‘mmms’ and ‘ahhs’ of studious observation. The body is clothed in a flimsy white fabric barely large enough to conceal the man’s genitals, though I am certain nudity is no longer an issue of concern for him, being dead and all. He looks emaciated, as if Death himself was eating away at the man’s flesh, and not a symptom or indication of the life he led before passing.

The professor stands tall above, offering his intelligence to the rest of us, as we press close into each other to see the veins and muscles that lie naked underneath the sliced skin. I find it absurd, how warm our moving bodies feel together, how the heat from our breath radiates onto someone else’s back, an assurance of life, while the man lying prostrate on the table below no longer has the same luxury. He will never again.

The immediacy of life and death in this tomb beneath the ground awakens my senses more than usual, and I wonder what it would be like to be someone else. If not the dead man, who has gone to another world bereft of these human limitations, then perhaps the man in front of me.

Or even our professor. A light shines from the only window in this cellar, grim and dusty pale over his face. He looks down on the dead man, onto us, as if to say, “This will one day be you. These tendons, bones, and blood - we all share. It doesn’t matter how deep the cut goes or how much we tear back our flesh. We are of similar matter. Look at this muscle. There is no life to flex it anymore, but it remains strong, connected to the other ligaments and bones.”

I feel nausea overwhelm me. 


(impromptu fiction writing class exercise)

# rembrandt life and death creative writing the anatomy of Dr. Tulp

Posted 1 month ago 1 note
Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.Sir Toby “Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?  -Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3 Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day. The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle. I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies.  The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes. But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But… The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes. Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine.  I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe. Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper… I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.
Sir Toby 
“Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale? 
-Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 3

Last year, I decided to give up baked goods for Lent. The lovely mess of a dessert pictured above is my own rendition of a Cherpumple. A Cherpumple is essentially 3 pies baked into 3 cakes and slathered with icing. Because I often go the extra mile, and have a unhealthy addiction to desserts and everything sweet, I promised this to myself as an end of Lent treat. The ultimate 46 day reprieve. And without realizing until much later, a three-tiered cake did seem ironically relevant to the day.

The original recipe calls for three cake mixes : yellow, white, and chocolate; and three pies: apple, cherry, and pumpkin. Hence, CherPumPle.

I decided to branch out and use Lemon, Chocolate, and Strawberry for the cakes, and Coconut Custard, Pecan, and Apple for the pies. 

The process was a bit shaky. If you’re not like me and plan on doing this in a logistical, clean manner, you would have mixed the lemon batter, placed the pie upside down in the pan and baked the bottom layer first. The cake you would’ve ended up with would have probably been done in about 35-40 minutes. Then you would have done the same with the other cakes.

But because this was my first go, and I had only one large cake pan (okay, cheesecake pan) big enough to encompass the two parts together, and two medium sized pans, I severely underestimated the cooking time and the way the cakes would bake. So because I’m more of a trial-and-error kind of girl (emphasis on the error), I prepared all three layers to be baked in the oven at the same time. It should have worked. But…

The cake batter started overflowing in my oven. When I checked to see why my kitchen started smelling oddly of smoke, I opened the door only to find that the strawberry layer was leaking on to the bottom of the oven and that the chocolate layer was dangerously close to doing the same. I switched off the oven, waited long enough to make sure I wouldn’t burn off my skin and tried to clean up the remnants. This is why it took about an hour and a half longer than necessary to cook all three cakes.

Spoiler Alert: They came out just fine. 

I cut off the top of the chocolate cake so that they would all be even, making it easier to place one top of the other. Then added more frosting as an adhesive. I still call it a Cherpumple, only because I can’t find a worthy replacement name. CusLemPle? Maybe.

Anyways, it was OH SO GOOD. I had some floormates and roommates test it out. And I found I couldn’t have a huge slice, because well, even a sliver was more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have some for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper…

I’ve given up desserts this year, because Spring is the time to start fresh. So while I’m still being virtuous, I can dream of the days ahead. Because they will be sweet.

# Cherpumple Shakespeare

Posted 2 months ago

It’s Sweater Time.

There’s something so pleasant about oversized sweaters. Maybe it’s the way they consume your entire upper body, erasing any and all shapeliness so that you become one large box. It’s like being hugged by a great big grizzly bear, or Fuzzy Wuzzy when he was so Fuzzy.
Or maybe it’s because you can wear them when it’s cold outside, when it’s raining, when you feel lazy and don’t want to get out of bed, when you eat too much, when summer has those cool nights meant for a light sweater but you don’t feel like carrying it around, whenever. Fall isn’t the only reason to break out the Cosby sweaters.
Which brings me to: Cosby sweaters. Give me big, bulky, out of date patterns slapped onto the front of your chest. Or zany zigzagging lines of colors that shouldn’t be matched with each other. Sweaters that itch slightly because they’re just saying hello. Sweaters that remind you of the 90s - because let’s face it, you’ve never really outgrown those fashions.

  There’s nothing better.

# sweaters Fuzzy Wuzzy Cosby Sweaters 90s

Posted 7 months ago 3 notes