Cupcake Love


This post is half about cupcakes and half about me playing with the macro focus my our new camera.  It’s also a little bit about showing Ross why I brought home a giant box of amateurly-decorated cupcakes and made him wait to eat any of the “pretty” ones until I had some natural light for photo snappin’.

I took these photos on our front porch today after I got home from work. Our house is pretty close to the house next door and our porch is pretty much just a room of look inside! windows so I had to be sly.  Of course I was less worried about our neighbors seeing me set cupcakes on top of mirrors and taking photos than I was about them seeing the cupcakes and coming over to eat some.

Oh, and where did these cupcakes come from, you ask? I get together with a few girlfriends every couple of months to put on cute aprons and bake festive things. We each decorate up a storm and bring home our creations. Last time was Christmas cookies, next time is Easter eggs. And next time I’m hosting. So naturally Ross is covering our entire house in plastic wrap and I’m breaking out my bedazzler.



Did I mention we were kitten-sitters over the weekend?

Her name is Dolly, and she’s a Ragdoll.

She was sweet and cuddly almost the entire time she stayed with us – even greeting us at the door every time we came home.

Although once she learned this trick she was all, If you need me you can find me in my bowl.

That Little Blue Box

Stedman and I do a pretty good job of staying connected during the work day. We like to check in with each other to see how the day is going. So thank God for cell phones. Without them, how would Ross know that omigod someone is clipping their fingernails two cubes down from me, or, guess where Brangelina adopted a kid from today?? Our little exchanges are critical, as you can see. And it doesn’t just stop at little sound-bites from our days – sometimes there are even photos!

Last week Ross sent me a series of photos via text that went a little something like this:

(Commence inner monologue)

What the what?!

Am I awake?

…am I in a montage from Love Actually?

Will there be hand-written signs?

Whoa, Whoa, Whoa – how am I supposed to wear that?

Turns out Ross’ company had sold some really impressive number of widgets or zip-zorps or thingamajigs and by golly they were celebrating with engraved precious metal! In other words, that box was not holding this.

Later that night Stedman and I had a little chat about what a Tiffany box striptease does to a woman – and that he should think twice before sending such graphic photos.

Those things’ll come back to haunt ya.