Pancho's 30th

For a large slideshow, click here or on the green triangle below. At Pancho's request, we had a orange and almond cake, but since 28 people were coming I made a sherry cake and a carrot cake, the latter of which acted as the official birthday cake since candles look best on frosting. We had a rousing chorus of happy birthday and, just generally, an absolute blast with our friends!

What we've been up to this summer, or some reasons (besides PhD) I haven't blogged much lately

Hiking in Wales and a day at a Cardiff beach with John, Yu-Chiao, and Beatrice




Church picnic, Balsham Manor, home of Sir Fred and Lady Elizabeth Catherwood



And click through to some Cambridge decadence back in June...

Drumstick undergoes identity crisis, meet . . . Pancho

Well, the good news is that internet identity crises don't need to involve any form of surgery. And that the pointed and rather angular pseudonym of Pancho's past can finally be set aside. I was never a fan of his previous alter ego -- it made me feel like all my protestations of affection could be read as battered wife syndrome. The new, cool, 'that's so ethnic' identity connotes all the feel-good cuddliness that Pancho excels in. Although he doesn't guarantee that this new name will stick for good, Pancho thinks that I shouldn't go back and erase the record of Drumstick's (largely putative) existence, so Drumstick will remain as a spectre of the past haunting these pages. Hopefully, he will not become a revenant or start wildly murmuring about poison in his ear...

Mom blew up my car

Did I mention that Mom blew up my car? Well, technically a faulty gas hose connected to the carburator plus a flooded engine and an attempt to start the car set the bug ablaze, but Mom was at the wheel! And ultimately unsinged, thanks be to God. Behold the modest carnage after twenty minutes of burning along quite happily:

Turns out the firewall in the engine, although over 40 years old, really does work. The inside of the car never caught on fire and even the engine doesn't look too shabby either. Gotta love German engineers:

But is it the end of an era? Will the parents finally sell off great-grandad's intrepid automobile, which my mother now avers is a death-trap? (This in spite of the fact that, daughter dear's jocular asides notwithstanding, the car never really even blew up and the inside never caught on fire at all.) Two of the fireman already left their contact details saying they wouldn't mind buying it. Will Dad finally cave in, or will the allure of restoring this fantastic machine for the second time prove to be a siren call he cannot resist?

Either way, our final trek in the bug down PCH over the New Year, windows open, sun shining, was certainly well-timed - but will it be the swan song of this valiant vehicle? Only time will tell.