Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!

In truth I've been working on this homage to hairless bare chests, men with long, be-fringed salt-and-pepper hair, and (of course) the Original Series for such a relatively long time that it is borderline embarrassing. WHAT BETTER OPPORTUNITY to celebrate such things, though, than at the tail-end (ahem) of Valentine's Day? That is this project's saving grace (I hope.)

The Untamed Eroticism of the image/this sort-of holiday aside, however, I also feel that Khan is a character who (prior to being enveloped by the Genesis Project-related nebular explosion) really taught us (the Audience) a little something about the dangers of loving something Too Much (i.e. getting a tad over-enthusiastic about revenge, especially when it was against The One Man who could clearly Never be beaten, el capitán J.T. Kirk.)  

A moment of quiet consideration, please.

Mic-mic-microscope

This is a not-particularly-well-rendered scan of my most recent efforts into the realm of SCIENCE. Yes, it's  true: my interests are not only in the area of science fiction, but also science itself (insofar as it can be rendered in tiny thread stitches.)  

Up next? It could be a Bird of Prey, it could be the Canadarm. OR MAYBE it will be Kamala, the empathic metamorph who pair-bonds with Picard only to be cruelly ripped away (in the name of Duty) in episode 21, season 5, The Perfect Mate. Only time will tell.

Do it yourself. No seriously, do it yourself. I don't wanna.

That's a bald-faced LIE! I DO wanna do it myself.

Brian and I have done-it-ourselves again. This time, it was Pho (which is pronounced 'fuh' or 'foo' or something else other than 'foh', which apparently sounds like the word for poop. Or something. Anyway. Oops!). Brian loves Pho. He loves the way it makes your eyes water and your nose run, and the fact that you have to work your way through all of that broth to get to the solid parts. Naturally, we had to try making it ourselves, which involved:

- 5 pounds of beef knuckle for the broth

- 3 pounds of additional beef

Thirty dollars worth of animal parts, in other words. Thank god it provided us with enough broth to make lots of Pho AND ALSO potentially drown a person in.

Throw in some star anise, cloves, charred onions and ginger (putting my burning-stuff-skills to good use) and you're just about there.

Pair it with a bottle of the world's finest home brew, and you have a night to remember.

Elementary, My Dear Readers

I'm sorry to report that the updating fire nearly (NEARLY) died in the Internet-related portion of my creative heart, as the scanner which once felt so near suddenly seemed to be light years away (and only reachable with the assistance of a mysterious being called The Traveller, whose mission appears to be to wander around the universe until he meets someone as awesome as Wesley Crusher (NB: Nobody is as awesome as Wesley Crusher, except the Man(?) Himself, so this seems like a frustrating endeavour)).  Lucky for all 5 of this blog's loyal followers, this Sadness did not come to pass and I present to you three not-particularly-recent creations. 

Number one is the pipe that Data uses when he's playing the part of Sherlock Holmes, in what is quite possibly my least favourite TNG storyline trope (see: a story from a book played out in a holodeck on a ship in a TV show I'm watching in my living room. I don't care what kind of wacky effects the goings-on in the holodeck have on the Enterprise as a whole, I demand more aliens! (Unless those aliens are giving Riker yet another chance to be smarmy in which case you can keep them to yourself and, okay, I'm fine with Data wearing Tweed and affecting an accent)).  I'm going to go out on a limb here, actually, and say that my embroidered, embuttoned representation of the pipe is actually better than the episode that inspired it. 

Moving on, the second button depicts the Klingon battleaxe that Worf uses on the guy in the green mask, whom you will no doubt recall has already been so lovingly rendered and shared on this blog. Not much to say here except Worf talks a big game about training and being a warrior, but when any kind of fighting takes place he sure goes down quickly and with little effort. I'm just saying.

The final button is the goopy black tar monster that ***SPOILER ALERT*** kills Tasha Yar on the Sad Sand Planet of Styrofoam Rocks in the episode Skin of Evil (and in so doing somehow made me cry. Who knew such a thing was possible?) This Tar Guy was extra grumpy and acting-out because his people had all ditched him there when they left for another home planet, due to his being thoroughly unpleasant and embodying all of the evil in their world. Clearly by the time he killed Tasha he had not yet looked within to find life's answers, and was instead still blaming everyone else. 

Will he ever become self-actualised and find redemption? Will any of us? 

Back on the scone train

It's been a while!

Nobody was eating any scones around here over the past two weeks. The first weekend, near the beginning of March, was way too busy. The second one, last weekend, was spent in Toronto, where we woke up to fresh blueberry muffins, fruit salad and coffee compliments of our B&B, and then Brian's great aunt and uncle.

The last time I sconed, it resulted in two batches: Pina Colada, and Peanut Butter and Bacon. Both were awesome, and within a few hours, thanks to some hungry musicians, this is what we were left with:

So, after a two week drought, I made a batch of rhubarb scones. I'd been under the false assumption that rhubarb was pretty much inedible unless it was mixed with strawberries, but I forgot to buy more strawberries after accidentally eating all of them in one of my sleep-eating episodes.

In light of this, I did what any reasonable person would do: I went to the cupboard and consulted Marie Nightingale's "Out of Nova Scotia Gardens" cookbook. Rhubarb is kind of a big deal back home, whether you're sneaking it out of someone's garden and eating it until your face feels like it's going to turn inside out, or tucking into a strawberry rhubarb crisp. I flipped through the rhubarb section (see? It's a big enough deal to have its own section), noted the ingredients it seemed to get friendly with, and came up with Rhubarb, Orange and Walnut Scones. They were dope.

Because I am an amazing lover, I did all of this with the end goal of bringing Brian breakfast in bed, as I usually do on Saturdays (aka Sconerdays). Because I am also crazy, I posed the food, ingredients, cookbook and coffee and took a picture for this blog. I made food porn. I'm sorry, and you're welcome.

Honour is a Good Feeling at Any Time of the Year

Ever wondered what kind of mask is featured on the monster that Worf fights in the holodeck when he's training to be a Klingon Ninja (Klinja)? That would be the first button on the left. 

Have you had nightmares about Data's arm being removed in the court when that jerk was trying to get permission to take him apart by proving he was not really a sentient being, but was instead property of Starfleet? Well, are you in luck with that middle creation! 

"Hey," you say to yourself, "what was that crazy weapon that killed the bystander when Tasha Yar went to the 'African' planet and had to fight off the ruler's First Wife in a fluorescent light-enhanced gladiatorial battle, after the ruler decided he wanted to Get With Her (in the biblical way)?"  That's right! Button number 3!  

You'd think that I would have more to show for the last two weeks, but I've actually been cheating on Star Trek with a Different Embroidery Project of an Entirely Different Nature (photos probably not forthcoming).  Hopefully these delays won't continue!

I MADE SOMETHING WEARABLE!

That's right, people. I made something - no, TWO THINGS - Tamara won't have to rip apart and fix for me. They may even manage to keep me clothed, as per Canadian law, in public. I may even leave the house looking presentable, no thanks to the clearance rack in the juniors section of Sears.

First, a dress I have been working on for ages, and which still requires a few nips and stitches, a clasp to keep my cups from runnething over (not usually a problem, but I'm approaching 30 and These Things Happen, according to my doctor), and possibly a corset:

And then, a full skirt to stand in for the one I can't afford/can't bear to invest in at Club Monaco. It looks almost pleated in the picture, but it's an optical illusion (c'est magique!) created by sets of 3 vertical black pinstripes, placed a few inches apart. I used gingham ribbon for the waistband, a side zip (sewn properly, the first time!) and I can't wait to wear it FAR too early in the season, perhaps tomorrow: