I have measured out my month in lamb cakes.
Here is a Letter from the Homestead for April. Inside: three lamb cakes, what's saving my life lately, books, etc.
Emily Dickinson called her Amherst home “The Homestead.” I lovingly call my apartment in St. Louis the same thing (though I definitely get out more than Dickinson). This monthly newsletter is my attempt to work through what it feels like to put down roots as a writer in my own Homestead.
The lamb cake is Camp.
This spring, I got it in my head that I wanted to make a lamb cake. I wanted to be Martha Stewart for a season, proud to display my cute little lamb at the Easter table. And with the help of the gods, I achieved it.
I must explain to you why I love the lamb cake. The lamb cake is an allegory that betrays itself: we eat it on Easter, supposedly to honor the Lamb of God, but she is infinitely cuter than the gristly, rusty fixation of Good Friday’s Roman torture methods. The lamb cake is excess. The lamb cake is paradox. The lamb cake is drag. The lamb cake is Camp. The lamb cake must draw attention to herself. The lamb cake wants to be seen and honored and kept neatly in the fridge for days before her final presentation (and death). The lamb cake is finicky, but of course she is finicky—she is meant to be a challenge.
I made three this month. Let me introduce them.
Lamb cake number one was a dress rehearsal. She was made of a Betty Crocker Pound Cake mix with buttercream icing (my preferred combo for a lamb cake). I decorated her with sliced marshmallows, tiered like tufts of separated wool. She looked like the luck dragon from The Never-Ending Story. She was the best tasting of all the cakes I made, which I attribute to the Betty Crocker mix. The marshmallows were a mess. I did not repeat this decorative method.
Lamb cake number two was made the week before Easter as a surprise for some people I love while I was out of town. I could not find the treasured Betty Crocker Pound Cake mix, so I had to use the old method of making the mix myself. I should’ve gone to a different grocery store to find Betty, though, because my own proportions just aren’t right. Instead of sliced marshmallows, she was decorated with white chocolate shavings and green-dyed coconut flakes.
Lamb cake number three was beheaded by my niece on the occasion of her fourth birthday, which, this year, coincided with Easter. She was named Lambie. She was unfortunately very dry because, once again, I could not secure the Betty Crocker Pound Cake mix. Of all the lamb cakes I made, she was the best decorated and was mounted in the most suitable serving plate.
Other cakes this month: an Anglerfish cake made for Pub Night. And a poor attempt at a yogurt cake that I still ate out of the pan.
A few things that are saving my life right now.
It’s spring in St. Louis and it’s wonderful. Lamb cake fixation not excluded, I’ve found so much delight in how the season change has made me less of a grump and more of a Pollyanna. These are a few things that are absolutely saving my life right now, little trinkets of joy I need to tell you about.
Buttered noodles. A while ago, I found this recipe from Melissa Clark on NYT Cooking and I’ve been hooked on buttered noodles since. I love being a grown up and eating whatever I want.
My writing nook. I float around my whole apartment to write, often chasing the best light or the coolest air. But this month, I’ve loved my nook, my closet office, my inner sanctum.
This essential oil diffuser which doesn’t even have essential oils in it. I can never get the combination right when I use actual essential oils, so I’ve just been spraying a little air freshener into this diffuser and it keeps the sun room smelling nice all day.
Nine hours of sleep. My FitBit tells me that this is what I need, so I have been obedient to the FitBit. And I do feel better.
A full writing schedule. My current writing load is large, and it’s forcing me to better manage my time and monitor my energy. I like working with this kind of challenge; I’m learning that I get a little restless if I only have one project to focus on.
The confidence that I now know how to write a play, start to finish. When I first became a freelancer several years ago, I had only a vague idea of how to execute a major creative writing project, like a book or a play. I’d only ever written an academic book, and that project alone took me years since it began as my PhD dissertation. But I’ve started to see that—maybe twenty plays later, all of varying lengths—I now understand (mostly) how they work. I see how to begin a project, how to know when I’m still looking for a magic trick, and how to ride the current to the end.
This family picture. I am once again an aunt. Here we all are.
What I’m reading this month…
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. I was way overdue on reading this book. You don’t read it for the twist; you read it for the sisters. Highly recommend listening to the audiobook version.
The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton. Another long overdue pick from my list.
The Name of God is Mercy by Pope Francis. We lost a real one, y’all.
Also, I finally made it out of Dante’s Inferno. Now onto Purgatorio…
How I made money this month $$$
I believe freelance artists should be more upfront about how they support themselves financially, rather than maintaining the illusion they are fully supported by their art (they usually aren’t). This is me attempting to live out that principle. So, here are all the ways I brought in money to the Homestead for the month of April.
Teaching artist work for Prison Performing Arts. Teaching a weekly writing workshop on Zoom and teaching Spoken Word regularly for two men’s prisons.
Paid Substack subscriptions. Thank you to all of my paid subscribers. It means the world to me you make a financial contribution to my work.
Thank you, as always for reading. Tonight starts a new month.
Love,
Courtney, Mistress of the Homestead, and Noble Midge the Cat 🐈⬛
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And I’m always very grateful to paid subscribers, who help support my work.