The calm before Disco Inferno;and, Guess the Green

It was looking too easy, the birthday cake and all. Sophie and I agreed on design and flavor, and the task looked manageable. What I didn't count on was that I would have to drive to hell and back to find the jelly beans, meaning I went to three Safeways and two Andronico's, called about eight candy stores, and giving up on a local source drove forty-five minutes each way to the damn factory. Can you believe I was dumb enough to call ahead to confirm they had a store? As if this headquarters of sugar consumption would miss out on an opportunity to sell you jelly beans to take home in case you weren't satisfied after eating your way through their manufacturing tour.

God—the horror. Freaked out, overweight kids with little paper hats in line for their tour, in line at the store counter, in line for pizza shaped like a jelly bean at the cafe. Thank goodness I had TimTim (my GPS device) to guide me safely home.

But while we're on the subject of jelly beans, riddle me this: What flavor do you think those green ones are?

The pinks are cotton candy, but the mysterious greens . . . go ahead, guess. Think outside the box of naturally occurring flavors. Way outside.


Sophie and Husband are out on their weekly date night (swimming and dinner every Thursday), and so I'm at home enjoying the calm before the storm. My dining room table is the staging area, and I'm in pretty good shape. I think.


This in spite of the fact that Husband asked tonight "But isn't the party on Saturday?" NO, DAMNIT! All I can say is, he better have that disco ball installed and operational by 6:00 sharp TOMORROW. On FRIDAY. Usually the only this he has to do for any entertaining "we" do is show the hell up, but this time I've put him in charge of a very important task. Who says I can't delegate?