Picture Sunday

It's that day, and that time, and so let's get right to it with yet another Picture Sunday. This one could be long, so settle in with a cup of coffee.

As everyone knows by now, I just completed the 2005 version of Oktoberfest with the Sauerkraut Band. And so tonight's Picture Sunday shall be all about the love that is the SKB.

First off, a story, and an answer to the dishy Michelle's comment to my last blog. So why was I announcing the fact that I hated chocolate? Because I spent two nights last week, a total of about 12 hours, up to my elbows in it.

See, it was time for the Last Night of Oktoberfest Gift-Giving. Last year it was the Jager Bench posters, and this year it was to be Chocolate Shermans for everyone. Some months back Picture Sunday contained a photo of a chocolate Sherman and chocolate Peabody made from the molds Mr M and I found on Ebay. Those were made by ESP. And fine examples of chocolatiering they were.

However, I'm no chocolatier. Remember, I was born without the Betty Crocker gene, which makes it impossible for me to cook, bake, decorate a house, or comfort a child.

I started my Chocolate Shermans Tuesday night. I spent about five hours, made a mess, ended up with one broken Peabody, four broken Shermans, two good Shermans, a burned batch of chocolate, and a bad case of "What In The Hell Am I Doing This For?"

Thanks to, again, ESP, I got some suggestions, as in, I was using the wrong kind of chocolate. I started again fresh on Thursday, and got - two broken Shermans, two broken Peabodys (at this point I flat gave up on Peabody - between the tail and the nose he was just a bitch to work with). This time the chocolate was breaking in the molds! Eventually I came out with two good Shermans, and then when the next three broke in the mold, I realized something. That if I worked round the clock for the next three weeks, I still couldn't come up with the 20 Chocolate Shermans I wanted for Saturday. I was crushed.

Until!

Until I decided that, well, if all the heads were going to break off my Shermans, then I was just going to give everyone at Mountain Lake - Sherman Heads! Chocolate Sherman Heads. And so I started picking out all those broken heads from the "failure" pile, cut the heads off the good ones I already had, and started ending the chocolate in the new molds in the neck area. In the next four hours of Thursday I finished 21 Chocolate Sherman Heads, with one Chocolate Peabody Head for good measure.

And may I just say, they were quite the success Saturday on the mountain.



I still hate chocolate, though. Do you know what it's like to be eyeball deep in chocolate and not be able to eat it?

And so the last night of Oktoberfest. The brood was there, that would be my sister, brother-in-law, Taytie, and Taytie's friend Andrew. It was also two days before Halloween. This makes for a few extra hijinks amongst the band. Say hello to the Girls of the Sauerkraut Band!



Ahh, you just can't beat a fake mustache. You also can't beat Target's One Spot for cheap Halloween stuff. Check out Tim, also known as Binky (it's a long story), the devil, and me, the old bat.



Thing of it is, when it came time for "The Clarinet Polka," I wore the bat, Mr M wore the devil, and Mary wore her mustache.

And oddly enough, I actually remember "The Clarinet Polka." "Oddly," because I'd been drinking Goldschlager shots all evening (give Eddie the Jager Master a simple task, like, oh, say, "Get me drunk," and he really takes it to heart). I was happily buzzed but still playing and singing and prosting and having a good old time. Then it seemed like that one shot we all took after "The Clarinet Polka," well, I really don't remember anything else. I remember very little. Here's what I remember:

- Introducing everyone in the band to my family and keep getting Taylor and Andrew mixed up. I kept introducing Andrew as my nephew and Taylor as his friend. I think I did that three different times.
- Selling my own two personal Sauerkraut Band mugs. I now have none of my own.
- Changing clothes in the bathroom with someone who had a camera. I do not know if this will come back to haunt me later.
- Pleading unsuccessfully with everyone to help me burn my Sauerkraut Band outfit.
- Sitting in front of the fireplace, really not wanting to go home, partly because I knew the ride down the mountain would be a very nauseating experience, but mainly because I couldn't get up off the hearth. (Thanks, SaraBeth and Jude the Corruptor, for helping me stand.)

All in all, a very long, very short, very fun, very tedious, whirlwind of an Oktoberfest. A few more pictures I just feel like printing, because I liked them.

After a week out of commission, I got the bubble machine working again!



Just like last year on the final night, this year we had a little visitor. We'll call him Rocky, as I guess they're all called Rocky, right?



And guess who Sara Beth plucked out of the audience, without having any idea who he was, to come onstage and be part of the Chicken Dance - my brother-in-law! Heehee, he never reads my blog so he won't know I'm putting his picture up here for posterity. He's 2d from the left, at least he didn't have to wear the Chicken Hat.



And goodbye, Oktoberfest 2005.

Now to something that, considering how squishy my stomach's been today, isn't exactly something I want to ponder over too much. But with Charles and Camilla coming to our shores in the near future, I guess it's only appropriate that our recipe du jour should be Burger Beef Tiara.



Ahh, yes. A meal fit for royalty, and something tells me ol' Camilla has probably fixed this for Charles a time or two. Apparently it's canned biscuits on top of some dog food with a few frozen green beans dropped on the top. Oh, according to the card, that's exactly what it is! No, no, it's ground beef. But those are frozen green beans, and the biscuits are from a mix. And boy, let's just go all out on this meal - the side dishes are fresh raw vegetables and fresh fruit. Just lay some raw shit down and let them put on the feedbag, Mom!

Happy Week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Yes, I have the coming week off. Well, four days of it, anyway, I have to go back to work Friday. I get to spend tomorrow of it on the road going to see the dreaded "You Should Weigh 110 Pounds" doctor.