Maybe I sealed my fate by saying that I knew the gingerbread brownstone I planned to build would be a disaster. Or maybe I just know myself too well; I don't follow recipes or directions and have the deluded confidence that everything I do will work (I blame Aries, the ram). Anyway, this weekend I spent a few hours making and rolling gingerbread dough and baking it into pieces. Here's what happened when things stopped being polite and started getting real:
Okay, so I made a GORGEOUS facade for my gingerbread house (note the stained glass LifeSaver windows):
I also made a back, side, and roof. But then I decided to try to move the thing before it was dry ... and I dropped it:
Only one side was ruined, but my resolve was broken, too. (My resolve is the brown pieces on the floor).
First I was devastated ...
Jeff was shocked (shocked!) that my elaborate baking experiment had failed!
Then, a true Aries, I got a little ... angry.
Here, I am deciding what to beat the icing out of next.
Then, suddenly, my spirit broke...
Until I realized that my broken dreams were edible (sure, there was some Gorilla Glue on there, but easy enough to avoid).
What, eating your broken dreams off the floor is pathetic, you say?
Well, I don't care. Yummy!
Nom nom nom nom nom.
Oh, beautiful LifeSaver windows!
If I can't have you, NO ONE CAN!
The roof was the next to go ...
But, hey, the market is so bad, might as well try to offload it.
My tantrum over, my gingerbread brownstone in pieces, I was a broken woman ... with a sinkful of dishes to do.
I hope this (slightly violent) parable can teach you all a lesson: egg whites and confidence do not a brownstone build. Buy the pre-made kits.