I made a "rolled buttercream fondant" for the main icing. Tinted it deep yellow/gold and rolled it on. Oh, beautiful! Then, I needed to make a dark navy blue. Hmm, there's no blue-blue in this box of many colors. Only Sky Blue. Well, what do I mix to make it work (there's always a way to make it work!) After several panic-stricken hours online, and one rather cryptic phone call to Wilton:
W: Oh, honey, you can't make Navy Blue with sky blue. You need Royal Blue to make Navy Blue.
ME: Ok, but I don't *have* Royal Blue. I *have* Sky Blue, because that's what you put in your eight-pack.
W: Well, you'll need to get some Royal Blue.
ME: I'm an *hour* from the only store that both carries your stuff AND is open for the next 48 hours.
W: You need Royal Blue and Black.
ME: So, um, do you have anybody there who'd be willing to get a little crazy and wing it with me?
That's when she threw the rule book out the window and helped me figure it out. In case you ever run into this problem, it takes the ENTIRE tub of Sky Blue and a few dabs of Violet, and you will get Navy Blue. Oh, sure, I may be a bad influence on CSR's, but hey, we both learned something, and that's good.
Now, for the record, if you try to decorate a cake at home, make sure you turn the AC down. 80 degrees might feel nice and comfy *for you*, but your buttercream may beg to differ. It doesn't seem to matter how stiff you make it, it's gonna wilt, and sag, and probably streak. So, John's team got a lovely blue and gold Nightmare on Elm Street cake. *sigh*
EmBaby's rear seems to be on fire from the inside, and she's been rather miserable and clingy in a hold-me-only-by-the-armpits sort of way. She awoke this morning in such pain that she couldn't get up. Turns out she'd had a blowout sometime during the night, and that didn't help. She just lay there, trembling and crying, but unwilling to go through the torture of sitting on anything in order to stand. We spent a lot of time the last few days airing out, bathing in cool water, and eating bland, bland toast. I thought it had to be teething, and sure enough, there are two more on their way in. So, she should be better soon. I hope so!
Then, the Very Nice Lady from the dentist's office called yesterday. The conversation went like this:
VNL: Hi Mrs. Dy. I'm just calling to let you know that we have an opening for Tuesday at 5:30, and see if you'd like to take it.
ME: Um, TOMORROW?!?!?
VNL: ...Or would you rather keep your Thursday appointment?
ME: THURSDAY?!?!?!
VNL: ...Or did you completely forget you had an appointment this week?
ME: THIS WEEK!?!?
VNL: (who by now knows me well) So Zorak can take the kids and we'll see you tomorrow at 5:30?
ME: *whimper* OK. *sniff* Thanks. *sob*
So Zorak came home and I grabbed my current read (The Prince) and headed off for the root scaling.
I've gotta say, it's worth it. I'm actually (and no, not just blowing smoke, here) looking forward to next week. And it's not just so that the other side of my mouth will match, either. (Although that will be rather nice.) It. Is. Worth. It. If you've been putting off going to the dentist because you just *know* he'll tell you something horrible, well, here you go - short of doing meth, my teeth seem to have been about as bad as they can be, and the worst they can tell you is that they can help you. Go. And I'm going to go to bed. :-)
Oh, if I owe you an email, give me until tomorrow night to respond. I haven't checked email in a while, and now that the novacaine is wearing off, I'm not checking it tonight, either. Please know I'm not ignoring you. I'm simply overwhelmed with wilty icing, dental visits, some computer trouble, and erupting toddler. Things should be back down to a dull roar by tomorrow.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy