Posts Tagged ‘party

31
Oct
08

Return to Boggy Creek

Fouke Monster Foot Cake

Well, the holidays are here. That means it’s time for our annual Legend of Boggy Creek party. Those of you who know me well, know that I’m obsessed with Bigfoot and by extension his Arkansas cousin, the Fouke Monster (or “munster” as Mr. Willy calls him in the movie). Boggy Creek isn’t much of a party. It’s typically on a Tuesday night. There aren’t many refreshments, just bottled Coke and this year a big foot cake that I made myself. I tried to swirl the icing to give it a hairy look.

As with all good parties though, the guests make the night special. But it is not an exclusive list. Anyone is welcome as long as they have a healthy respect for Bigfoot and the horribly bad movies made about him. Be forewarned though, the movie does suck and attendance is frowned upon if all you’ve come to do is make fun of Dave and me for being dressed like this:

Mama Searcy 1 and Mama Searcy 2

Guests don’t have to be in costume. It is encouraged, but if you haven’t seen the movie and don’t know what to wear, comfortable pajamas are appropriate (see Eric and Max below). Most of the women in the movie are dressed in nightgowns and big rollers, so Dave did a little shopping. We’re dressed as Mother Searcy. We didn’t make an attempt to look particularly matronly, since the woman in the movie who plays her sort of looks like a dude anyway. I don’t know if there’s much of a market for it, but Dave totally rocks granny chic. The cigarette is fake, kids. Remember, don’t smoke, and stay in school.

Eric and Max

Eric jumped at the chance to wear his pjs to a party. And Max is wearing the new Fouke Monster shoes I found when I was in Arkansas last. No, that’s not how they were marketed, but it’s the way they should have been.

When Max put on the rest of his costume it was clear that he was a little confused. Instead of “Fouke Monster”, he thought I said “Fez Monkey”. I cut him some slack since he’s only nine months.

Fez Monkey

But you got to hand it to the boy. He’s a tech whiz already. Look at him go at that DVD player. He couldn’t wait to get the movie started!

Fez Monkey

And, Max, that’s how you get invited back.

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02
Nov
07

Lobster Lovin’ Lara Party

Lobster Ladies

My friend Lara (on the right above) recently left her job at the Indianapolis Museum of Art, so we had a little “growing away” party at our house with part of our old museum crew.  Lara is a creative writer, education technology designer and a great mom, so she deserved a special party. 

I made pizza, but didn’t have tons of time to do anything creative. Thankfully my friend Wendy swooped in toting a humongous basket of Lobster Party: two live lobsters, patterened aprons (that in the right room would make for some wicked fun wallpaper), matching chef hats, and her own giant pot for boiling the red ones.  Lora brought two bottles of wine that she and Scott made(!) and an awesome salad that her high school son threw together (isn’t there a lucky spouse in his future?). Jane brought the perfect almond shortbread cookies, just the right mixture of chewy and crispy. 

Celebrating the Kill

The Buddh-ish ones among us went to the other room when the live lobsters were plopped into the pot of boiling water (The squeamish did not included John, obviously, since he enjoyed playing with the deceased).  Not only did Wendy bring the lobsters, but she brought the know-how that goes into mining every bit of meat out of them. She’s no novice. Wendy actually does lobster prep demonstrations in schools all over Indianapolis. Kids in town see her at the grocery store and scream, “Lobster Lady!” (in a good way, not as an insult)
Lobster Queen
  Being a true Mainer, Wendy was so focused on prying out every piece of meat possible that she could not be bothered to look up for a photo.  I was a little worried that she would be so busy she’d forget to eat, but I do think she finally sqeezed some chow time in, too. 

Lara is much beloved. Not too many people can say they had fresh lobster prepared tableside at their goodbye party.