This Post Has No Continuity

Yesterday I reached a new low in my cooking:

Sure, I've managed to burn things before, but I've never managed to actually set the oven on fire.

Once I'd scraped the flaming pieces of Almond Cake out of the oven and onto a pan, I thought they just looked so pretty that I transferred them to the sink so that I could also brag about setting the sink on fire:

a good day to be a Toxic Housewife

In completely unrelated news, I updated our old brass hallway light:

using this $5 base from the building supply recycling store:

and the crystals from these lamps I got at a yard sale for basically free:

and made this:

(please note that, although I tackled an electrical re-wiring job, I am apparently incapable of screwing in the the final 2 light bulbs)

And I created an art installation behind our kitchen table, using some of the too-gorgeous-to-sell spoons Bee's made over the years:

Also, not to forget, I made a washable "rug" for under the kitchen table by buying a few yards of fabric and laying a few yards of clear vinyl over them:

In my spare time, I hosted another Dessert Extravaganza:

Blueberry Swirl Cake

 And, perhaps most-important of all:  Mr. C graduated from Kindergarten yesterday.  They had a cute little program, complete with all the kids wearing green felt graduation caps (that looked more like a hat Robin Hood would wear).  The class sang the three songs it took a year to learn, and each child got to speak into a microphone to tell the assembled parents what their favorite part of Kindergarten was.  (Most chose "music", but -- since they'd all just finished getting hearty applause for singing "My Country 'Tis of Thee" -- I suspect that was a rigged survey.)

Note the only decor in the cafegymatorium:

Shockingly, the only people who seemed to need those tissues were the principal and the teacher (and for actual tears of sorrow, no less).

I, for my part, held my picture camera in one hand and my video camera in the other . . . yes, I am one of those parents.  You can tell the times are changing when you're the only person in the room not recording with their iPad.

Although I managed not to cry at graduation, I am feeling pretty bittersweet about it.  This last year was the best of my life.  I loved walking across the field to the school at 8:30 in the morning with my mug of tea in one hand and Mr. C's hand in the other.  I loved being productive in the shop for a few hours, but not having to work past that.  I loved crossing the field again with Bee to pick up Mr. C (and sometimes one or two of his friends), chatting with the other Kindergarten parents while we waited for our kids to exit the school.  It was so encouraging to see how many fathers picked up their kids.  Then I'd link arms with Bee and head back home while Mr. C ran ahead.

I loved having the afternoons to run errands with Mr. C or to do chores at home while he showed his playdates around our yard.  I loved getting excited about all the new Kindergarten tasks (He got to put his name on the "Lost A Tooth" wall!  He got to be line leader!  He got to pick out a treasure from the treasure box!).

Now, those tasks have lost their luster.  And, next year, Mr. C will be gone until three, and I'll have to actually work more.  And I just don't feel there'll be that same camaraderie of parents waiting together to drop off and pick up their kids.  And those kids won't be the smallest, cutest ones in the school anymore.  (Except, of course, for Mr. C, who will always be the best-looking kid in school.)

I know there will be other things -- better things -- about him being in first grade . . . but I'm not ready to lose my Kindergartener just yet.