So there comes a point in every household that you just have to do some gutting. Others would say “house purging” or simply “spring cleaning”. This occurrence has been happening around my house a lot lately. After a while, you run out of space. I could just make a massive pile of things and stack, squeeze, cram, and jam things into every nook and cranny like we are accustom to seeing on the newest reality TV shows about “hoarding”, but I personally believe in the less is more concept. If I were designing a house or cake studio of my own, minimalist would be worked into the style.
So why is this a sad time?
Because it was time for some of Bertie’s Bakery’s first cakes to go:
But the Award Winning Triathlon Cake had to go too. You know this cake STILL ranks in the top of all of my page views week after week! Over two years later you guys are still showing the love! Don’t worry, someday I’ll make a new and improved triathlon cake!
To this day, the tuxedo cake is still one of MY favorites! I am surprised there are not more “grooms cake” requests for it. I think it looks really classy on a side table next to a big elegant wedding cake. But that’s just me.
And yes. The triathlon cake went in the garbage sideways. The cake base was too big to fit otherwise. You could definitely say that the swimmers in the bottom left had corner are lucking out with a “down river” swim! Ha! (I know I am not funny).Realistically this isn’t “that” sad. The triathlon cake was ridiculously well documented by The Boss who photographed the bejesus out of it. It will not be forgotten among the the triathlon community nor by me at the bakery. The other cakes as well have all seen their time in the spotlight and are now fading, cracking, or simply collecting dust. It was time.
So again, you might ask, why is this “sad times at the Bakery” if I am so okay with the cleaning up and moving on process? Well, for me, putting the cake in the garbage was one thing. I said my good bye’s (no really, I talked to the cakes for a while… the Boss was both laughing at me and worried), the cakes understood, they new it was time.
But what I couldn’t handle, what really really wrenched my heart was when I came home in the evening after the garbage man had done his rounds and saw this:
It was a massacre. I was horrified. I had hand molded each and everyone of those swimmers. Their little hands, swim caps, and goggles. That was it. That was what made these “sad times”. Seeing my little guys smooshed into the driveway. That’s just no way to go.
I’m just hoping that the long weekend (here in Paris!) will be enough to take my mind off of them!
Au revoir!