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Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Cjane: Patron Saint of the Bloggernacle

When an amazing baked good must be had, there's only one recourse: an appeal to the patron saint of the Bloggernacle: cjane.


It's not the first time an appeal was made; I had to deliver cookies to Our Lady of Southwest Provo, Amelie, Protector Of Us All, at least a dozen times.



There were even times when more drastic measures were required, like tarts. Heaven forgive us our earthly trespasses!

Sometimes I'd even leave caramel sauce at a neighbor's house where it would be stolen and eaten directly out of the jar with the spoon without my knowledge. But that's how saints are: a little sneaky if you ask me.

And then there were the mini doughnuts that were also required in her presence. Don't tell the other saints but we may have committed gluttony as we rocked the night away listening to Phread sing "Don't Fear the Reaper."


Is it any wonder that eventually that saint would bear fruit (I mean, you feed something for long enough it's bound to sprout)?

I have a hunch that her coconut baby is way more delicious than any purgatory-rescued mexican chocolate.


So it was that a long time ago I, Azucar-of-the-Pines, as named by cjane, confessed to the patron saint of the bloggernacle, my secret age. You know, the age you think of yourself as, no matter what age your bossy birth certificate says. Ever since I was small I knew I was really 32. I fingered my bead necklace and said with a thousand sighs, "32. Always have been, always will be." And now our cjane is 32 and we're the same age for just a little while longer.

Probably just long enough to make some more cookies.

Happy birthday sweet cjane, maybe those wings aren't such a joke after all.



(Yes, they are.)




More tributes to cjane at b., at Sue's, at Kalli's, at CW's, and at Phread's. And especially at LaYen's, who has the whole legend for your perusal.

13 comments:

dalene said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
dalene said...

Man am I glad you clarified that part about the wings. I thought they were
for real.

CW

sue-donym said...

So that is my baking problem, I have been appealing to the wrong Saint. Glad that is clarified.

Geo said...

She's an even quart this year! (And so are you, all of the time.)

b. said...

Your baking makes people pregnant?
Who is the saint here?

Kalli Ko said...

you have a young and very wise soul.

i now know the proper saint to pray too for my shamrock cookie need.

rookie cookie said...

The wings are a joke? I was going to stop reading her blog because of how self-centered she is. Thanks for clearing that up!

(What in St. CJane's name were all those idiots thinking that one day? You know the one I am talking about.)

Happy Day of Birth St. CJane. I will light a candle in your honor.

Rich said...

What! Carina! No joke, I was about to write about Patron Saints on my blog. What's the deal?

Fig said...

How many hail CJanes do I need to say to get me one of those tarts?

~j. said...

Secret Age? I want to go to there.

megcampbellback said...

cjane gets my vote for one of the most amazing blog banners ever....

mind you yours is pretty good too, for a 32 year old...

Sue said...

Dang, now my CJane shrine looks positively chintzy.

liz said...

did i tell you i still laugh out loud when i think of your comment on jcane's post about using holiday cupcake holders on a non-holiday and how you said you were a friggin kitchen mcguyver?

I am so glad lindsey gets to hang out with you.


ok so your comment about that pillow- hilarious. nothing says 'hey honey i'm in bed entirely wrapped in pillows all around me but feel free to climb over the pillow wall and kiss me goonight!' like that monster of a contraption- which I have thought about every single time I see them somewhere. But - on the flip side- looks heavenly. and hey since we already nailed (pun intended) the baby making part of our lives this year might as well get the chastedy belt, i mean pajama pillow outfit so I can sleep more restfully! ;-) it really does look like a dream but cracks me up every time I imagine mike coming to bed with me nestled into this huge pile of pillows. like I might as well order a bonnet and one-piece undies that go down to my ankles. i love it. you rock. thanks for commenting so I can think it all day today and smile.