My domesticity of late just kills me. I've been wearing my hair curly (pulled up in a leather barrette) and cleaning my house and baking Alex's birthday cake and discovering that we really do have a candy thermometer (hidden in the dark recesses in the back of a drawer).
There are two things I have learned from this experience: that my mother, though she tries, has a very ill-equipped kitchen, and I make a mean black devil's food cake, frosting included.