We're Antigone without the laughs

Dead serious, but so very unserious about it. A 100 year old Pound Cake and huzzah, Book Club is Back!

Oh God. I’m so tired. Are you tired? We’re all overstimulated, and today we can throw in giant cards and carnations. Usually on this day, I schedule something fun—like a cavity filling or a 12-hour flight—but it looks like I’ll have to stare Cupid in the face. I just want to punch him in the nose.

Sorry, sorry—violence is poor form! Bad llama.

I’m wheeling. I’m dealing. I’m talking to anyone who will listen, tap dancing my way into rooms with enthusiasm not seen since the last revival of A Chorus Line.

And sometimes, ushered right back out of rooms.

“You don’t belong here. What casting director let you in?”

Blind self-confidence, apparently… believing we’re the main character in our own life?

January crawled and February is flying. The world seems full of No’s, but we’ve at least learned how to use texturizing root spray, so there’s some character build up. We’re giggling. We’re trying out bits. We’re picking up other messpot friends off the floor, then slipping ourselves on the way back up.

Oh, and we’re hair modeling, because life’s gotta have some joy too. I’m even considering taking up smoking again because, damn the asthma, one does look so good doing it!

Oh God, can someone please turn on a light? Just a little reading light, to break up this endless unknown.

But as they say, in the dark is where you learn to trust the other senses. If you’re only walking in the light, then honey… you haven’t had enough character development.

But have some of us had too much… Is that a thing?

The lessons. The stories. The “Oh, this actually happened to me once” when someone shares a tale. You could go out to dinner with a certain person, but you’ve been there, done that… know exactly how the conversation will go and how this will end.

Skip that class, babe. Spark joy- read trash.

Speaking of characters, classrooms, and trying to remain calm, let’s revisit an old friend…

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The Transatlantic Literary and Snacks Society

Back in the summer of 2023, we began our little book club. We have no rules, no meetings, and no authority. Just a gaggle of self-proclaimed Book Worms sharing recent page-turners back and forth on the digital library Goodreads.

It’s my favorite app, but not for the reason you might think. Yes, you can register all the books in your library, track your reading progress, rate and review, catalog books you’d like to get to one day, etc., etc.

But my love for it is a bit more nefarious. I use this digital bookshelf to spy on people.

Girl… another beach read? It’s mid-February. And isn’t everyone sorta done with the Colleen Hoover thing?

Wow, Steve… ACOTAR? Didn’t see that coming from a guy who name-drops high school football stats.

Or a WhatsApp I received recently: Stu… that’s too much Greek mythology. Blink twice if you need help.

It’s winter and miraculously, there’s time to dedicate to reading, and that’s a better use of time than doom scrolling. We’re attempting five books a month, but I’ve realized that’s not entirely fair.

Does a quick beach read count as one full book, or perhaps a half, considering it requires minimal brainpower? What about histories and biographies, where you spend 7% of the time pausing to reach for Wikipedia? Those should count for at least 1.5, maybe even two!

So, like all Rules of Order, let’s throw them out.

We’re going to read as much as we want. We won’t hold so fast to a goal that we forget why we read in the first place. We’re chasing knowledge, entertainment, joy, emotional depth, connection, thanksgiving, soul quaking magnificent minds and Velveteen Rabbit vibes only.

I encourage you to do the same. Audibles, bedside table reads, living room novels, thrillers stashed in the car for traffic jams—it’s all fair game.

Also, consider reading in categories. As I mentioned, we’re on a bit of a Greek mythology kick (started organically and like the Minotaur, I’m a bit trapped). Like taking a Great Course—or that one semester in college where you became way too into Russian Existentialism—it’s nice to catalog your obsessions in one section.

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Showing someone your bookshelf is a bit like baring your soul. The height of intimacy.

2025 Reading Challenge, thus far

Last month, I left my ancient Apollo 13-esque AirPods in the Hills and had to ask for them back through the post. Actually, that was the most soul-baring moment I’ve had in ages. Nothing quite like admitting you’re still using first-gen AirPods that look like they barely survived a lunar mission.

We’ve got Witches, we’ve got Gorgons, we’ve got Texas cattle empires and we’ve got Sicilian aristocrats behaving badly (my favorite). We’ve also got a WILD ride of a memoir.

Whether your book club is online or in person, it’s best to dig into a good read with a good slice of cake. This is a 100-year-old pound cake recipe my family makes for every occasion. It’s truly pound cake perfection—dense and buttery, an anchor for any flavorings you’d like to add.

For this Eros Day, may I suggest… peppermint dust? And maybe some light vandalism.

-ASF xxx

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Waco Pound Cake

MAKES: 1 CAKE | PREPARATION: 5 MINUTES | COOK TIME: 55 Minutes

This has been a family favorite for generations, hailing from the central Texan town of Waco (yep, that one). It’s the perfect cake to have on a stand for any occasion—breakfast, tea time, or as a present (Mother and I made about 27 of them this past holiday season). Also, it’s ridiculously easy to bake.

According to Google, back in the 1700s, when pound cake first emerged, most people couldn’t read or write. Recipes were spread by word of mouth, so simple, easy-to-remember proportions—like a pound of butter, a pound of sugar, a pound of flour—became popular. Cute, right?

No frosting or peppermint dust is necessary, but honestly, why wouldn’t you add some?

Note: Do not bake this in a silicone pan. Nonstick carbon steel or bust.