I have some really good memories of baking with my Mom. There were a few jobs that I was always "in charge" of. Number one - whipping the cream. Now that I think about it, I laugh. Why the heck were we always whipping cream? I think there were church functions involved but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, today I baked and I reminisced about one of my all time favorite jobs - matching the whoopie pie halves. I loved finding the halves that were most similar in size and shape and then filling them. And then finding, when I got to the end, that there were an odd number of halves and I got to eat the odd number with the filling and no topper. Heaven.

I love those memories. Thanks for giving me jobs, Mom.

Something very bad happened yesterday.

I blew up the projector. A can of spray air was involved. There was fire. Why don't I tell you the whole story?

So, it's been starting to get pretty warm around here and the basement is always cool. Cold, in fact. I like to gather up all the laundry, maybe a little project and turn on a movie. Well, the projector had been acting up recently, flashing red and green and black and white, making the movie watching experience generally less awesome. I gave it a little google search and someone suggested that it might be dusty inside, making the fan less effective in keeping everything cool. Well, I already turned the projector on before I remembered the suggestion to dust and I went for it. And then there was fire.

I have been known to be called heartless but let me tell you, I cried. That is not a lie.

I'm pretty sure that it's thanks to my quick thinking (after my no thinking) that the projector has been salvaged. I put out the fire, unplugged as fast as I could and let it cool down. I replaced the bulb (then dusted) and it works. And no blinking.