Auntiemwrites Crime-Mystery Author M K Graff

As the 75th bday for Mom draws nearer, Doc asked me today about what I was doing for a cake.  MY plan was to order one, a double decker, with pale blue icing, Mom’s favorite color, and white lacey tracing on it.  I described the top, composed of things that reflect Mom: a tiny willow chair that usually sits on the ledge over my kitchen sink, and on that chair an open mini-book and a pair of mini-glasses.  Next to it will be a small black dog with a tag reading Pixie.  That is was my plan.

Doc: “No, I don’t mean the top, I mean the cake itself.”

Me: “From A Slice of Heaven, of course. (where Auntie M holds the Writers Read program.)  I know Rebecca will do a good job for us.”

Doc: “That sounds awfully expensive.”

Me: (Knowing where this is heading. . .) :I already checked with Chef Duff and Charm City Cakes start at $500, so this will be a breeze and a helluva lot closer.”  (Big grimace–wait for it, here it comes.)

Doc: Why don’t we just make it ourselves?

I refrain from stating the obvious: a really nicely decorated cake for 50 people, are you nuts?  And say instead:

“Now that’s an idea.”  You ARE nuts!

Tonight I have printed out the recipe for mom’s favorite cake, an Italian cassata cake, which has a sweet creamy filling with chocolate chips, just like the inside of a  cannoli.  Have I ever made this before?  That would be a no.  Has Doc, king of cheesecakes only?  Ditto NO.

As for the blue and white tracery, we now own every conceivable frosting device known to man and then some, including a bag of gum paste for making our own flowers.  See, I told you I knew where this was going.  I know Doc.  Oh, and did I mention he thinks we need to go for 3 tiers, and each one should be half vanilla and half chocolate–

See, the problem here is that Doc loves to learn new things and to tackle them.  I do, sometimes, too, but not when I’m in the middle of revising my own 275 pg novel, editing a 435 pg novel, proofing another of 175 and working up the program for an October writers workshop I’m moderating.  But hey, let’s not let those things get in the way. . .

On the bright side, mom’s cousin sent me some snaps of them together as children, toddlers and teens to copy and return.  Pat was mom’s maid of honor at her wedding.  I plan to mount these on a board that I’m decorating with cut out roses from mags and catalogues I’m been saving (her favorite flower) and scatter photo’s of mom, if I can find a few where she hasn’t closed her eyes.  These will be a great addition to the board and I made the copies today.

One really got to me.  Mom is about 9 and seated in a toy boat on a ride at Coney Island.  What got to me is that she looks like me at that age!  I mean, I guess I never realized how much I looked like her at that age.  She looks sweet with her hair newly permed and if I were a better blogger I could figure out how to get it onto this blog to share (don’t hold your breath).  In any case, today when we were in the Emerald City, otherwise known as Greenville, I had a copy of that one blown up nicely to put right by the cake.  The one we’re now making, for better or worse. . .  DO keep your fingers crossed on that one for Auntie M~

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In the summertime when my usual forensic shows are off the air, Monday and Fridays are the nights I watch television.  (Masterpiece is for all-year-round fun).

Last night two of the best shows on television premiered: The Closer, with Kyra Sedgewick, and Saving Grace, with Holly Hunter.  These two beat just about anything being written for TV, the dark and light of the best, on several counts: great writing, strong female protagonists, interesting storylines and secondary characters, a touch of humor that relieves the seriousness of the fact both women are involved in crime.

In The Closer, the lighter of the two, Atlanta native Brenda Leigh Johnson finds her skills put to the test as a Los Angeles Deputy Police Chief solving Serious Crimes.  With her fondness for candy and her loathing of LAPD politics, Brenda’s investigating and interrogating skills usually win the day with a fair amount of humor.  The steadiness to her ditzy factor is her fiance’, FBI agent Fritz Howard, played by the luscious Jon Tenney, who we could stand to see more of in the shower.

Moving to the darker side gives us Grace Hanadarko, an Oklahoma City detective whose has lost a sister

in that tragedy.  The question of faith is served up deliciously in the persona of the angel Earl who visits her.  Hunter’s Grace is a hard drinkin’, heavy smokin’, sexually promiscuous kinda gal.  And in this season we learn the reasons why.  She is also tender hearted, loving and generous, and more than one is attracted to the rambunctious Grace.  Her team and her family are well-drawn, interesting characters, who allow Hunter to spread her own wings and imbue this character with gusto.

So the next time you think there’s nothing good to watch this summer on TV, just wait for Monday nights on TNT, 9-11.

For Fun Friday, watch this spot!

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All weekend I’ve been listening to well-deserved tributes to Tony Snow, the Washington writer and newsman whose essays I’ve always admired and whose on-camera presence always lit the screen with his huge, genuine smile.

Dying of cancer at age 53 after a three year battle, Snow openly put his love for his family and his faith above all professional regards.  He had the good sense to know what his priorities were, and the good grace to share those priorities with us all.

He showed everyone undergoing cancer treatment that they should not hide their outside appearance, as he showed us all he was still the same person underneath the white face, lack of eyebrows and thinning white hair.  He showed up and did his job and did it well.  When his cancer returned and spread to his liver, he left his brief tenure at the White House as Press Secretary to earn more money for his family’s future.  His departure that day was met with a standing ovation from the entire White House staff, waiting for him outside on the street as he made his way to his car.

His wife and three children will permanently have a big hole in their hearts, left by this great man and the admiration he inspired.

Godspeed, Tony Snow.

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