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Back in my university days, there was a lot of oil money in Texas, so several of my friends got jobs teaching at Texas A & M. Life is pretty dull in College Station, so one couple, on a visit back to Berkeley, showed photos from their cake decorating class. A favorite was an armadillo cake, depicting them as they are usually seen there, split open with cherry filling pouring out.

We are a bit more urban here in Oakland, but before I moved here, I would see deer in the back yard in El Cerrito. Now we are getting more and more reports of mountain lions in the cities.

Turkeys have been moving in more and more, too. A couple of times they have flown into the Mother of the Year ceremony in the Morcom Rose Garden near our home, right into the crowd. I guess they are just reinforcing their claim to the territory.

[Monica starts to get a bit concerned about TimR's hobbies ]

Oh, Tim, that is way too weird but also extremely funny. It's true, the Mardar is elusive. You never see the Mardar, you just see the damage he causes. The only Mardar photo we have is the one of the thing frozen in the rain barrel (the human head shot). And I still refuse to look at that photo. Had I known of your hobby, I would have sent my husband to come fetch you. The frozen Mardar would have made a nice addition to your photo collection. You might consider publishing a nice coffee table book: Musician with Road Kill.

Have you read any of David Sedaris's books? He is one of my literary heroes. In many ways he gave me the courage and confidence to write Piano Girl. Anyway, he wrote a recent essay on visiting a French taxidermist that is a riot. I can see from the responses here (and also in my personal email account and comment section on my blog) that Varmint on the Roof provoked a bit of excitement. Everyone, it seems, has pests.

BDB, I can't even say anything about that armadillo wedding cake. I can only hope someone comes up with something like that at one of the weddings I play, that way I can write about it. Maybe I should suggest something like this to the pastry chef at the castle.

Here is inspiration for the pastry chef!

Nah, I'm a normal boring engineer.

However, we recently had a chili cookoff at work, and nobody ate mine.

I seem to work with unappreciative folk.

And on Tim's topic:

http://www.walmart.com/ip/220748?wm...6607510&wl4=&wl5=pla&veh=sem

... which combines nicely with:

http://www.roadroast.com/how.php

Tim, that should get you back on track at the potlucks.

What have I started? We've gone from weddings to taxidermy. Anyone have a photo of a stuffed bride?

Er...yes. But I think posting it would get me permanently banned!

Stuffed with cake?

(That is not the only one!)

Warning: If the bride asks, "Does this dress make me look fat," do NOT reply, "No, I don't think it's the dress."

No, the cake is what makes you look fat!

Enough of this talk about stout brides! As many of you know, I have a lot to say about the horrors of stuffing yourself into a gown of any kind. I do it on a regular basis.

For instance, the VD dinner at the castle this year. I wore my Very Red Gown, which I pull out of ye olde closet once every twelve months, so we can all celebrate love on February 14th. Well, everyone else might celebrating love, but I am alone and at the piano, playing American love songs that no one recognizes and cringing every time the boning in the dress's corset pokes into my waist. Maybe someday I will record a VD cd and call it Corsets and Candlelight.

This is my own stupid fault, I know. I could very well wear one of my silky black pajama outfits, throw on a red scarf and be done with it, but no, I feel this need to go all out for this occasion. One of these days I am going to have the Great Piano Girl Evening Gown Give-Away and donate all my dresses to the 25 year old pianists who should be wearing them!

Speaking of the VD dinner, we had an interesting, uh, conflict in the restaurant that night. There were about 20 couples, all gussied up and gazing at each other over candlelight and tables strewn with red rose petals. And then, in the corner, was a family of Dutch tourists, with six (!) kids, between the ages of one and nine. All of them were wearing paid flannel shirts. It was like having the Dutch Waltons next to the piano. They were very cute, actually, but at one point they became impatient with the three hour dinner. Then they started acting like kids and doing that "chase" thing that kids do.

Part of me admired the mother for insisting on her VD dinner NO MATTER WHAT, but I think those kids might have been happier with a room service hamburger, a Mary Poppins DVD, and a babysitter. I think the other guests certainly would have been happier. I know I would have been happier without little Hans Walton running past the piano and banging on the bass notes. I often play with closed eyes and he scared the wits out of me.

Plus, you know, the dress was killing me.

My concert and reading at Steinway Haus in Düsseldorf is this week. If you live around here, I'd love to see you there. It's free. And I will wear something comfortable, I promise.

Piano Girl in Germany

Never heard of him, but on your recommendation I bought one of his books this morning. I haven't had time to get far into it but he seems to write really well, I think I'll enjoy it.

Sedaris is very funny. He lives in Paris, so he also gets the whole expat thing. Happy reading!

He and his sister Amy (of Strangers with Candy) have very strange senses of humor.

Yes, well, I've been accused of that myself, BDB.

Oh. My. I am a mother who has taken her kids to restaurants on many occasions, and on some occasions my kids (especially the rambunctious boy) have been, well, rambunctious. (Though I must say the not-so-rambunctious girl had her moments, too, the most memorable being the time I unwisely gave the thirsty baby a drink of my sparkling water and bubbles got up her nose... I didn't realize little tykes could reach such heights on a decibel meter. )

However, I took my kids to family restaurants that featured kiddie meals, paper napkins, and many other families with squirming, rambunctious kids and where the noise of my kids made no appreciable difference. I would never have dreamed of taking them to a highly expensive, super fancy restaurant in a CASTLE, on VALENTINE'S DAY, no less!

I'm guessing your manager was in a tough spot. On the one hand, you don't want to offend a paying guest, even if they are paying guests in plaid shirts. On the other hand, he had 20 other paying parties who had presumably planned for this romantic night out for some time and deserved to have their special night unblemished by rampaging children.

The biggest share of the blame falls with the parents, one of whom should've escorted the little tykes upstairs the second they became obnoxious. But I guess I feel the manager should've stepped into the breach and asked the parents to intervene once it became obvious they weren't going to do the Right Thing on their own.

I hear you, Monica! And you are right—the manager was in a tough spot. We only have two restaurants at the hotel—one is the Michelin star restaurant where a meal costs about as much as a house, and the other is the Brasserie, where I was playing. The Dutch Waltons were staying at the hotel, so unless they wanted to eat in their rooms or in the bar, where else could they go?

That said, I think I was way more bothered than the guests. There seems to be more tolerance here for small children than there is in the USA, and, generally, I approve of that. But it was an odd situation on VD, that's for sure.

Let's hope they don't show up tomorrow night at my Steinway concert. Although if they do, I can probably work them into the show. All those plaid shirts would make for a nifty chorus line.

It's a tough dilemma. And I am now inclined to give the parents a little more credit, as they were proactive in patronizing the least fancy option available to them.

And if none of the other guests were complaining, I suppose it's a case of no harm, no foul.

Bratwurst--- is it made with real brats?

Just wondering.