Today is the day before my birthday. It’s early in the afternoon, and I’ve stayed home from work. I decided to gift myself with something rare these days: time alone. Time to breathe in familiar ways: through baking, Jane Austen and a pocket of the universe in which I can write. I got up early this morning and baked some cookies and brownies by myself. With Pride & Prejudice playing in the back, and now a little bit of time to write like I used to, I’m very, very happy.

I’m getting married soon. As in two-shakes-of-a-lamb’s-tail soon. This is why I haven’t had the chance to blog at all since Thanksgiving. In December of last year, on a trip up the California coast, Eric proposed to me at a lighthouse. It was the best, biggest surprise of my life.

“A wedding will consume you,” an officemate warned me when the news broke at work that I was engaged. I had just gotten back to the office after the holidays, it was a new year, and someone had just asked me to marry him. I was in that fuzzy world you find yourself in when the axis of your life shifts a little bit, and I didn’t believe her.

I didn’t believe her even when Mama, after seeing the elaborate wedding timeline I set up on spreadsheets, told me, “You’re a little bit nuts.” (This was my mother after all, and it takes one to know one.)

I still even didn’t believe that warning when, a couple of weeks after that, I collapsed on the couch after eight hours on my feet, exhausted and drained. Eric and I had just spent eight hours–EIGHT HOURS–registering for gifts, and all I could see when I shut my eyes were cutlery twirling around with china, and table napkins waltzing in the wind.

And even when, about four months in, I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream that they served fried grasshoppers at the reception, I STILL didn’t believe that the my life had been given over to the wedding.

But today, the first time in 10 months that I’ve had the time to write anything for my blog, I’m no longer in denial. The wedding has won. It has taken me hostage with seating charts, tulle and pearls.

Maybe the battle hasn’t been fierce because I’ve been a willing captive. When people ask me why I’m hand-making so many things (and I don’t exaggerate when I say many) for the wedding, my automatic answer is, “Because I’m crazy.” But the real answer is that I’ve been waiting for this all my life. I can write that out in other ways to try and bend the truth a little to give in to the closet feminist in me, but this is the only way to say it. There were many times in the many stories written for me by an unseen hand that I didn’t think it would happen, but I always quietly hoped it would. I’ve been blessed with a chance to craft the life I’ve prepared for all these years. With the best crafter-in-crime my curls and I could hope for.

So you’ll forgive me if I haven’t been in touch lately. There’s been a lot to do. There’s still a lot to do. But that only means there will be lots to write about.

This morning, in the quiet of my new kitchen, my hair full of flour and my hands full of cookie dough, my apron smeared with chocolate and the smell of vanilla wafting from my warm oven, I was overcome with joy. I was where I’m meant to be. It’s been a long time coming, but here I am.

Wish us luck for the rest of the journey. All the crafting is even more chaotic as the wedding draws near. But I’ll be back. There’s a whole life ahead to cook and craft for. The Girl With A Curl will see you on the other side.

Thanksgiving was a blur for me. I cooked like a madwoman, which oftentimes is really the only way to cook. Early in the week, I plotted out a strategy of what to prepare each day, so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed on the day itself. I know this is borderline obsessive but, trust me, it preserved my sanity. And we all want me to hold on to my marbles for quite a while!

The best thing I made for Thanksgiving dinner were these brownie pops, dipped in chocolate and decorated with sprinkles. Cute, huh?

These were made with Wilton’s Brownie Pops pans. Really fun silicone molds–can’t wait to use them again!

And these brownies were a new discovery! They’re from Ina Garten’s Outrageous Brownies recipe and are little pieces of chocolate heaven. I think the addition of a little coffee to the brownie batter makes a huge difference in how rich these taste.

I made the actual brownies two days before Thanksgiving Day and stored them in an airtight container in the fridge. E. helped me in a big way to decorate them on the day of, conveyor-belt style. I  stuck the lollipop handles in them, dipped them in chocolate and handed them to E. He sprinkled the edible decor on them and stuck them to a block of styrofoam to dry.

So much fun! I found the pumpkin-shaped basket at Michael’s for cheap (in the Clearance bin!) and used that to hold the treats with some more styrofoam in the base. We used candy corn and fall-colored Hershey’s kisses to cover the foam. (You must “hide your hardware!”! I learned this from floral arrangement classes in grade school!)

This Thanksgiving, I was thankful for many things: the chance to spend time with family, the ongoing health of my parents, the fact that I’m able to cook for the people I love. But mostly, I was thankful for E., who kept me on an even keel during a crazy week at work and of cooking and entertaining. I’ve never really allowed anyone to help me in the kitchen—a habit I took from my grandmother—but he has proven to be an awesome sous chef! So now, when he says he can help with whatever it is I’m cooking, I’ve learned to hand over the spatula.

The Holidays are here—I hope yours are wonderful!

Happy birthday to the second pair of intrepid feet in these pictures!

The Getty Villa, Malibu

Roadtrip along U.S. Highway 1

At the edge of a cliff, Big Sur, CA

Braving the snow to see fall colors, Eastern Sierras, CA

On a platform around a pine tree 100+ feet above the air, zip-lining gear attached

Waiting in line for the iPad, Century City Apple store, Los Angeles

Morton Peak, San Bernardino Mountains

For the craftiest, coolest geek I know, who walks the world with me one adventurous step at a time, may all you wish for in the universe come true. Happy, happy birthday!

You guys, remember my friend Sara’s wedding in Santa Barbara that we went to in the summer? It’s been featured on the wedding blog Style Me Pretty! All the beautiful details that Sara planned for came together with help from their wedding planner Joie de Vivre. And all these lovely photos by Ian Grant make my heart sing. That cake! I still dream about how pretty it was.

I know for a fact that Sara put a lot into making her big day a wonderful experience for us, too, down to the votive candleholder favors made by her dad. Yes, as in MADE, because he’s an actual potter in Hawaii, with a kiln and all. He even made me the cake stand I used in this post, and I only use it for very special occasions.

And, one last story. That beautiful cake in the first photo? Well, that sugar peony on the second tier had had ENOUGH of being ignored off to the side and decided to fall. I was actually walking toward it to take a closer look when it slid down the side of the cake. HORRORS! There was chocolate cake under the frosting, so you could see brown cake through a small gash that the fallen flower had made. I grabbed the closest butter knife and fixed it ever so gingerly, repositioning the flower and working the buttercream in strokes as close to how the cake was originally decorated. I have to say, I didn’t do a bad job retouching! Sara sent me this photo today of me working the buttercream, and it made me laugh. The camera caught my “Gently…gentlyyyyyy…” face.

Congratulations again, Sara! For the beautiful wedding that we’re now re-living through these lovely photos, and for the kick-a** mention on SMP.

Absolutely loving these versions of the vintage British Keep Calm poster. Someday, I will have one of these hanging from my craft room (or kitchen!).

The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight…

…[Breadmaking is] one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world’s sweetest smells… there is no chiropractic treatment, no yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.

- The Art of Eating, M. F. K. Fisher

Upon the insistence of a friend who loves going to independent films, this weekend we saw Kings of Pastry, a documentary about the three-day Meilleurs Ouvriers de France competition.

This is the Olympics of Pastry Arts in France, three rigorous days of sugar sculpting, cake decorating and buttercream piping like your life depended on it. It takes place every four years, and every pastry chef dreams of earning the right to be called “One of the Best Workers of France,” and wear the coveted tri-colored collar that’s the mark of a true artisan.

Not surprisingly, I had a lot of fun watching the movie. I marveled at the artistry that went into each of the showpieces, gasped when sugar towers cracked and teared up when one of the contestants felt like he couldn’t go on. For a foodie like me, it was a treat for the eyes and the imagination.

Having said that, I left the movie with two questions. The first: Where are the women? All the chefs were male, and I imagine a woman’s touch would fare well in the delicate chocolate swirls and sugar flower petals that the competitors have to work with.

Apparently, there are different categories for the competition, and in Pastry Arts, no woman has ever competed. The only woman who has ever won was for the Hot Food category, but none ever in Pastry Arts. This is also probably because that field in the French culinary world is dominated by men who have come from a families of male bakers. How sad! I’d like to think that in the coming years, the competition will start to see more women.

The other question I had was, “Why do most of the designs look, er, old?” Don’t get me wrong, each and every one was an exquisite work of art. But I had a feeling that the competition needs a dash of modernism. But maybe that’s just me. Perhaps the competition has a traditional aesthetic that it aspires to keep.

All in all, fun times in the theater! Go see it!