Broomcakes

Holding Pattern

2012-01-05T14:24:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted here because the next post that I need to write is Bones' memorial. My last post announced that Bones was in the hospital awaiting a liver ultrasound. The results of that ultrasound were not good. Bones had a large, untreatable, inoperable cancerous tumor in his liver. We made the decision to euthanize after receiving this news. Needless to say, this was an emotionally devastating day, and I am still struggling to get through the days without him. I would like to write more about him when I can compose my thoughts without devolving into a hideous, sobbing mess. Until then, I'm maintaining blog silence.

Holiday Cake

2011-12-27T09:15:00.007-05:00

Right now, Bones is in the hospital, awaiting an ultrasound of his liver, to figure out why he was sick and acting strangely yesterday. I am anything but relaxed. However, I've been meaning to write this post for ages, so I'm going to do it anyway.

*****

Terri's Jewish Apple Cake Recipe

A long time ago, when I was in the later years of elementary school, my mom bought a home and school produced cook book from one of my younger cousins. You know the kind, with recipes contributed by kids' moms, spiral bound, and with some student art on the cover. At some point, my mom started making this recipe for Jewish Apple Cake. It was (and is) really good.

Sixteen years ago today, CPM and I had our first date (heh, did not realize that until just this minute). You know how in the first blush of a relationship, you go over all the reasons that you are "meant" to be with this person? I claim this cake as one of them. The recipe, you see, was CPM's mom's contribution to the elementary school cook book. (He and my cousin had attended the same elementary school.)

I can sort of recall the moment that I realized this...I was standing in my mom's kitchen, and somehow the topic of the cake came up. I pulled out the cookbook, looked at his mother's name next to the recipe, and it smacked me in the face, that my family had been eating and enjoying this cake of his mom's for years before I ever met CPM. If that isn't destiny talking, I'm not sure what it was.

I make the cake every year at Christmas. While CPM and I don't actually observe the holiday, preferring instead to eat Thai food and watch bad TV or a movie, some things are sacred, like the annual cookie baking. This cake is one of those things. It's easy to bake, and is quite amazing tasting. Make it. You won't be sorry.

I keep the recipe on the same piece of spiral notebook paper that I copied it onto. The paper is stained, and crinkled, from being used so many times.

Ingredients
3/4 cup sugar
1 TBSP cinammon
4 eggs
2 cups sugar
4 cups flour
4 TSP baking powder
1 TSP salt
1 cup orange juice
1 cup oil
4 large applies, peeled, cored and sliced thinly

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine 3/4 cup sugar with 1 TBSP cinnamon in a small bowl and set aside. Grease and flour a tube cake pan.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream eggs and sugar. Add the rest of the ingredients, except the apples, and mix well. The batter will be very thick.

Add 1/2 of the batter to the prepared cake pan. Add apples and 2/3 of the sugar mixture, gently smooshing apples into the cake batter. Add the remaining batter, covering the apples evenly. Sprinkle the batter with the remaining sugar. Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove cake from oven, cool on wire rack.

Getting this thing out of the pan can be a challenge. I normally loosen it with a cake spatula, put a plate on top of the cake (it will have risen over the top of the cake pan), flip the cake out of the pan, then put a plate on the bottom of the cake, and flip it back over. You will get cinnamon sugar all over yourself and the floor, but this is the only way to get it out.

Eat and enjoy. (Sorry for the crap photos, I've been using my iPhone for everything lately. My poor DSLR sits lonely in a basket in the foyer of the house. I think I need an EyeFi card for it.)

Good Stuff

2011-12-19T11:26:00.005-05:00

In no particular order...

The post "work holiday party", free-drink happy hour...I haven't attended a post holiday party happy hour in ten years. It was time. I walked ten blocks through the city back to my car carrying my heels. Thankfully, it was not as cold on this day as it has been in years past.

Live animal nativities. Even though I am not religious at all, put a baby animal in my path, and I'm happy.

This salmon recipe from Martha Stewart Whole Living. I've made it twice. It's dead easy and delicious.

Raspberry Lemon Thumbprint Cookies (made with Kerrygold salted butter, because I am a baking rebel).

My new, go to chocolate chip cookie recipe. I only waited five hours for the first batch, but the rest of the dough is currently "curing" in my refrigerator. Based on my sample tastes, these are incredible. Also, I got myself some Silpats! Finally!

Not so good stuff...getting peed on by your favorite girl puppy, while laying on the couch with your feet safely tucked beneath her bottom, because she recently received a steroid shot and sleepy time is now also temporarily known as "pee on mommy while sleeping time." I still bought her the squeaky holiday hedgehog, which she eviscerated in ten minutes.

Miscellany

2011-12-12T09:57:00.005-05:00

At the vet...Bones says, "Get me out of here."

The following list is in no particular order and the photo above has nothing to do with anything. Bones is just awesome.

-My holiday shopping is done. I cannot wait for the day when all of my various nieces and nephews are old enough to be okay receiving a gift card or cash. I'm half way there. I firmly believe that the ones who still believe in Santa deserve to open up some annoying toy from me. Hence, Amazon, Target and "the mall" have all received hefty infusions of cash from me. Bleh. Thankfully, the mall was eerily empty on both of my visits. As usual, there is not one decoration chez moi. I will however, probably be baking cookies this weekend. I still maintain some vestiges of holiday cheer, even if they are not present in the other half.

-Four weekends, four seasons of Breaking Bad down. Am I late to the party? A little. The spouse and I prefer to watch television this way, obsessively staying up too late to cram in just one more episode. It is everything that Dexter used to be...engaging, thought provoking, frustrating, maddening. Good television.

-My new favorite supermarket is the Whole Foods in Plymouth Meeting. I may just be purposely scheduling my shopping trips to lunchtime so that I can eat the pizza from their brick oven. It is awesome! They have beer! And a taco truck! They will make you a burger and fries!

-Ate at Distrito, discovered that there is a reason Jose Garces is an Iron Chef. Great food, fun atmosphere, and a crane game where CPM and I almost won a Mexican wrestling mask. Still, I think I prefer Cantina Feliz, for locational convenience and familiarity.

I was thankful for my stretchy waist yoga pants.

2011-11-28T12:12:00.003-05:00

For the seventh consecutive year, the spouse and I spent Thanksgiving with some of my favorite people. I think that it all started because we were all vegetarians who felt left out of our family's traditional celebrations, who just couldn't stomach another year of eating the gross frozen corn and fielding the "what does a vegetarian eat/don't you miss meat" questions. There is also the whole "avoiding the family drama" element that is a wonderful side effect of this tradition. Thus, Thanksgiving has become one of my most highly anticipated holidays.

Recently, the spouse and I have moved into the realm of eating fish. The spouse has gone a step further, and introduced sustainably sourced meat and poultry to his diet. Thus, Jaime decided to add an actual turkey breast to the menu. This does not upset me. I have never been a big fan of the "protein" part of Thanksgiving, so I didn't miss having the Quorn roast substitute (which recently has decided to disagree with me my digestive system, blah). I was always fond of the big plate o'sides, albeit freshly made sides.

Sometimes, in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I get discouraged...I don't want to make pie crust from scratch, I don't want to chop apples, blah blah blah. But then I do it, and it's easy, and I'm eating tasty food that was made with love.

My contributions to this year's menu:
Green Bean Casserole (I subbed Trader Joe's Fried Onions, and loved it.)

Smoky Brussel Sprout Gratin from the December 2011 issue of Martha Stewart Living

Bourbon Cranberry Sauce (Ridiculously easy, ridiculously delicious.)

Creamy Mashed Cauliflower (Roast the garlic, it's better this way. Also, I probably didn't need to make this, as we had too much food.)

Pumpkin pie (unknown internet recipe). I always use the pie crust recipe from my Cuisinart food processor.

Apple pie. Once again, my own crust recipe.

The spread.

My (first) plate (yes, I ate two whole plates of food).

I ate so much food this time that I had to change into yoga pants when I got home, and then take the dogs for a long walk in an attempt to burn some calories. I think it took me two whole days to fully digest everything. Thanksgiving Success!

No Chili Peppers?

2011-11-17T12:26:00.005-05:00

I made this chili for dinner last night. I will now publicly declare that I love this chili so much that I will marry it. Of course, I never follow a recipe exactly, so here's what I changed:

1. Instead of using fresh serrano peppers, I chopped a can of chili peppers in adobo sauce. This added a lot of spice, but we like our food spicy. Thanks, Whole Foods, for this. I'm not sure I understand how a store can sell every odd vegetable out there, but not have one type of chile pepper available for purchase in the produce section, not even the lowly jalapeno. (Yes, I asked. They had none.) However, I will continue to use the canned peppers, because I loved the flavor of the chili with them.

2. Instead of fresh tomatoes, I used one can of diced tomatoes with green chiles, and one can of diced tomatoes. Tomatoes are out of season here, and I refuse to purchase the crappy ones that can be used as tennis balls. (I will however buy Kumatos. I love those things. They are an oddly tasty engineered version of the tomato.)

3. I omitted the tomato sauce and the additional water/broth, as I did not want my chili to become soup.

I served it with nonfat Greek yogurt (instead of sour cream) and some grated cheddar. On my side of the table, I crunched up some tortilla chips on top and made myself a "frito pie." This one is a keeper.

Cooking Some Stuff

2011-11-07T11:42:00.005-05:00

I finally got around to making this Pumpkin Cranberry Bread. I have had it bookmarked for a while, and then added it to my Pinterest desserts board when I started cleaning out the million food bookmarks that I had emailed to myself over the years. (Side note: Pinterest = Awesome). My only modification was to skip the nuts. I hate nuts in baked goods. I simply added extra cranberries. Thus was born my favorite quick bread, ever. Ever. This shit is good.

The spouse has been doing this minimal carbs thing for several months now. I've been doing my best to accommodate his diet, and he's been really successful (lost +50 lbs thus far). At first, it was difficult, as I would frequently resort to pasta for dinner on a weeknight because it was so quick and easy. Now, I just resort to soups and salads. (When I want pasta, I make him spaghetti squash, and I measure out and prepare my portion of pasta. This is an easy compromise.) Occasionally, I go a little crazy, as I did yesterday, and make a full meal. I made crab cakes for the first time. I'm not linking to the recipe that I used, because I'm not satisfied that they were as awesome as they could have been. They were simply tasty, but I didn't want extra. I made mashed cauliflower (skipped the scallions because I hate them, and next time I will roast the garlic before adding it--raw was a little too much bite). I also caramelized some red onions and threw them on some baby arugula with goat cheese and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. That was really good. Onions plus lettuce plus cheese plus vinegar equals delicious.

Remembering

2011-10-21T08:05:00.002-04:00

Lately, I've spent lots of commuting time lost in memories of my childhood. I recently discovered a new route to work, which eliminates lots of waiting in traffic, and takes me past two houses that I lived in while growing up.

My childhood memories are mostly of the not good variety. My parents divorced early, and lots of my memories involve moving around to new houses/new schools, various dramatic and emotional parental/custody disputes, stress about money/clothes/food, etc. Look, I wasn't burned with cigarettes or starved in a basement as a punishment, so I had it pretty good when compared to some of the crap that you hear about today. But it wasn't the best way to grow up, and I'm certain that my childhood has majorly influenced my decision to not ever have kids.

There are absolutely good memories. Some just smacked me out of the blue this morning, for no apparent reason. Growing up, my mom would late me stay up late, long past my bedtime on a school night for two reasons: to watch either The Sound of Music or The Wizard of Oz when they came on network TV. This was before the time of VCRs, and before cable, so this was really special. To this day, I love those movies. I can also remember the Christmas that I was seven, living in the one house that I drive past, the last year that I believed in Santa, waking up in the middle of the night, sneaking down the steps, and seeing our tree lit up, with piles of presents beneath it, and just getting this awesome, magical feeling that Santa had REALLY come! The memory of that feeling can still give me goose pimples.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that my childhood was not all bad. Lots of times, I really wished that I could be sent to a boarding school, which I now understand was my way of wishing to not be involved in all of the drama, to escape, to pretend to be someone else. (This was long before my adolescent "rebellious" phase, when I think every kid just wants to get the hell out of their parents' home, and be able to live their own life. When I left for college, I never moved back.)

I am happy with the person that I have become. I know that the struggles of my childhood made me who I am. Sometimes, though, I wonder who I might have been, if I had the "perfect" life...

Confessions

2011-10-12T13:17:00.005-04:00

I got braces when I was 14, at the start of ninth grade. I was very excited about this, because I thought it meant that I was a "real" teenager. (I also got glasses the same year, and purposely picked out frames that were like Andrea's on 90210...true story. Obviously, I spent too much time reading Sweet Valley High and watching television as a pre-teen.)

So, braces. I wore these braces for almost the entire four years of high school. Thanks to my lovely overbite (which never got corrected, thank you very much Mr. Asshole Orthodontist), my front tooth, already missing a small chip on the backside due to an unfortunate altercation with a chair at the age of 12, bit down on the braces on my bottom teeth and an unsightly chip appeared in its bottom edge.

By my senior year, I had had enough of these braces. I was already at least a year past the "you'll only need them for two years" point. I begged my mom to get them off of me. She relented, and had to sign a waiver at the orthodontist in order for them to be removed. I'm sure she promised not to sue the asshole doctor (once again, thanks for nothing, jerk, my teeth looked the same when the braces came off). As he removed my braces, and tsked, he filed down the chipped tooth "to even it out", and ever since, that tooth has appeared snaggly. I hate it. It's my number one detested facial flaw (next to my forehead chicken pox scars that you probably barely notice, but that look like moon craters to me, since I had to live through the embarrassing agony of having them since I was 10).

So, if you take my picture from beneath me (as in the above shot, taken by the 5 year old nephew), or from certain angles, you can see the resulting snaggly tooth. And it horrifies me. I actually have lots of nightmares about my teeth, falling out, me pulling them out, etc. I need to get over this.

Yard Work and Stuff

2011-10-11T09:53:00.003-04:00

Today, there are 17 bags of leaves waiting to be picked up by my township from my curb. On Saturday, I had to borrow my oldest nephew to help me rake the leafy detritus into baggable piles, or else I would still be working on it. We worked for six hours, stopping only to cram lunch into our craws. The best part is that my maple tree is only half done its annual shed.

On Sunday, I spent a rare, lovely afternoon with CPM in Chestnut Hill at the Fall Arts Festival. Sometimes, the weather around here cooperates, and we experience something new that makes us remember that occasionally life isn't so bad on the east coast (notice I said "sometimes"). We saw lots of cute puppies (new obsession, Italian Mastiffs, gentle giants, who seem to hate cats) and performed our favorite activity...people watching. We ended the day at Farmicia, dining with a good friend (I tasted a piece of boneless lamb chop. I'm sorry, but it was the greatest thing I have ever eaten.), and talked about learning Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. (I could never hit someone, even just pretending/sparring, so it was just fantasy talk.)

Yesterday, I had my sister's youngest children for the day. We visited Linvilla Orchards with friends, intending to get some pumpkins and pick some apples. Note to self...do not visit Linvilla Orchards ever again on a school holiday. You know that scene in Toy Story 3, where the younger kids are set loose on the toys in the day care, and all hell breaks loose? It was like that, except with overflowing trash cans, smelly animal pens, and the dregs of Delaware County, PA, crowding every inch of free space. We wanted to pick apples, but the apples were all picked out by 3:00 (just checked the website, and the orchard is giving itself a week to recover from the crowds). The ride home was tense...the youngest kid passed out, and the older kid accused me of always giving in to the five year old (I refused to hike back down to the hayride area when our apple picking plans feel through, shuddering at the thought of dealing with the crowds, and I also nixed face painting because the line was too long). I had to remind her that she was once five years old too, and people usually cave in to the younger kids, whose coping mechanisms often involve lots of public shrieking. Also, the youngest is prone to migraines, and he said that he had a headache, so I was sympathetic. I had one too.

We did however, get pumpkins.

Seriously?

2011-10-04T08:51:00.004-04:00

My day yesterday, in list format:

-Drove past a guy without a nose on my morning commute. Instead of a nose, he had a band aid where his nose should have been. Creepy.

-As part of my job, I photograph all new hires in my building on their first day. One of them wasn't wearing underpants yesterday. How do I know? Because when I escorted her back to the lobby, her bare ass was hanging out of her pants. Classy.

All that got me through the remaining portion of my day was the thought of the lovely meal I was planning to prepare...spaghetti squash and pesto, broccoli rabe and roasted red peppers, veggie sausage. It's a pretty time consuming preparation process for a work night, so of course I needed every minute available to me upon my return from work...thus it is no surprise that the following occurred:

-I stepped in dog poop in my yard during afternoon playtime with the dogs. While I normally follow Bones around with a bag, due to his tendency to poop on the run, his father is not so fastidious. Thus, there are sometimes little surprises in portions of the yard. (I actually keep track...did Bones poop twice in my presence today? No? Then I need to do a yard recon and find the second poop. That's fun.)

-When I took my shoe into the house to clean it in the basement sink, I saw that Rocky, the cat, had once again decided to hang his ass OUTSIDE of his litter box and shit on the basement floor. His litter box is kept in pristine condition, cleaned daily, and had just been completely redone with fresh litter the day prior. I guess he didn't want to mess up the fresh litter.

Hence, I was drinking a pumpkin beer while I cooked. All was well.

Fall.

2011-10-03T08:44:00.003-04:00

Surprise. It's fall. But, it's not the good fall, where the weather is crisp, the sun is shining, and you momentarily delight in breaking out the hooded sweatshirts and cozy pants. No, it's the crap fall, where the temperature cuts you down to the bone and it's damp and raining, and everything smells like wet dog in your house. I did nothing this weekend. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Except for (pet and human) food shopping. Upon my return from the food stores, I immediately put my pajamas back on and went back to bed. Yup, it was that kind of weekend.

Honestly, I argued with myself yesterday over whether I should even bother to clean the bathroom. (The bathroom won, it got cleaned.) I did however do this thing I've been meaning to do for a while. I picked up the knitting again.

Why, yes, they are DPNs!

I'm teaching myself to knit socks. I'm using this book and various Youtube videos.

So far, it's working. Here is the cuff.

I can see some careless mistakes, but overall, I think I like to knit little things like socks. I don't have to park myself in one spot for ages before I see progress.

Ugh. Me. Impatient.

2011-09-26T15:37:00.002-04:00

I've been trying to knit again. I started a sweater pattern. Then I remembered why I stopped knitting. And I also learned a whole new reason.

First, I am incapable of sitting still for long periods of time at home (unless I am watching television or a movie or a movie on the television). I am also not allowed to sit still for long periods of time at home (because my dog is an insane herding beast who interprets my almost stillness as "time to go annoy mom and make her interact with me and my tennis ball" time). And finally, my new reason, today I learned that I fucking hate circular knitting needles.

I will still try to knit some god damn socks, and maybe a new scarf or some shit that I can do on straight needles. But I swear, I am not interested in patterns that require circular needles. Lesson learned. They make me want to stab myself in the face with the pointy end.

Social Networking

2011-09-23T11:03:00.003-04:00

I recently realized that I belong to or use a great number of social networks...

Facebook. Twitter. Flickr. Pinterest. Instagram. Ravelry (just joined, trying to take up knitting again).

I used to have my Twitter linked to my Facebook, so that all my FB buds could see my random musings on Twitter. (Actually, I only posted to FB from Twitter.) Recently, I unlinked them. I decided that FB is to be a reflection of my more friendly side, while Twitter is to be a reflection of my naughty side. As I said in my first post-severance tweet, I gave myself a split personality. The truth is, I felt constrained by the "friendship" of several younger relatives on FB...I tended to edit the cuss words and such from some of my more clever tweets, or to hold back altogether. No more. Twitter shall be unedited. I'll need to start a swear jar. I have an unfortunate habit of dropping f-bombs or making inappropriate remarks on the regular in real life. While it may be unladylike, it's just my authentic ribald self.

For the record, my new favorite social networking places are Instagram and Pinterest. Maybe it is because they are fresh and new...I'm not really sure. I do know that if you stick a clever photo with some witty text, I'm hooked.

Cranky

2011-09-16T07:54:00.005-04:00

Someone pushed the cranky button inside my brain yesterday. There was no particular reason to be cranky, I just found myself in a really foul mood, which seemed to worsen as the day progressed.

On my usual post dinner dog walk, I saw this.

I was instantly less cranky.

Today, I'm wearing a scarf out of necessity. This does make me cranky. I am not ready for cold weather.

Perfectionism. My Curse.

2011-09-13T10:14:00.002-04:00

I have officially survived hosting our first round of house guests in the new, tinier homestead. Not only that, but we crammed more people into the sleeping areas than we ever fit into the old, larger abode. I am now ready to open a bed and breakfast. I got this.

Since we moved into the new place, we had always intended to have some sort of celebratory barbecue, something to mark the fact that we survived our renovation with our sanity relatively intact. Of course, my perfectionism prevented me from planning this event. There were always little things that I wanted to have done before I exposed our home to guests. The yard looks like a desert in some places and like an overgrown weed jungle in others. It isn't the perfectly manicured landscape that I have dreamed it to be. The driveway concrete is a nightmare. The trim work around the clerestory windows is not done. The fireplace is still empty. Blah blah blah and on and on and on. It took me some time to realize that no one except me actually cares about these things. People will eat food and drink beer anywhere. The only shortfall of the house is that we don't have the fancy butt spray toilet seat on the guest toilet yet. We need to get another one of those, pronto.

Thus, when we opened the home for friends to spend the weekend (at one point 11 people were sleeping in my 850 square foot house), it seemed the perfect opportunity to throw a practice party. Of course, my perfectionism also extends to parties, and I went insane on the food prep and alcohol selections. Burgers and dogs on my grill? No way. I made seitan and veggie skewers (my own recipe), shrimp and pineapple skewers, flank steak, spicy baked beans, vegan blueberry cobbler, guacamole (also my own recipe), and german potato salad. I bought a lot of soda and tons of fancy beer (yeah, no Coors lite for us, just a selection of locally brewed craft beers). Someone brought cupcakes from Crumbs (butter cream perfection). While it was a lot of work, since I have that gene that makes me happy when I am feeding and entertaining people, it was well worth it.

Oh yeah, I know I mentioned it, but I'm saying this again...I cooked effing steak on my grill. An actual bloody piece of meat. It got rave reviews. After it was marinated and cooked, of course. My sister and I were both completely grossed out as I sliced it open to find it to be perfectly medium rare AKA still bleeding. We both wondered if I had undercooked it (I actually used the timer on my iPhone because I have no idea how to cook steak). Then we recalled that my mom's steak always looked like this. Actually, my sister reminded me that my mom would eat it while it was still walking around, so we figured I was safe. And I was. No one died!

There is nothing better than a circle of friends in lawn chairs. All we were missing was the fire ring. Next time!

Lessons Learned

2011-08-29T10:59:00.004-04:00

I retrieved CPM from JFK airport on Friday afternoon, just in time for us to jointly experience the wonder of Hurricane Irene's attack on the Midatlantic. I learned some valuable survival lessons. In no particular order, they follow below.

Bananas are now on the pre apocalyptic food shopping list, meaning you won't find any on your last minute supermarket trip, along with eggs, milk and bread. Apparently, survival french toast has been upgraded to banana french toast.

When you make that preparatory food shopping trip, avoid purchasing perishable items. Two weeks without a spouse in the house meant that my cupboard was totally bare upon his return, since I didn't actually do any food shopping in his absence. Since I was at the store shopping for the storm anyway, I grabbed the normal collection of food stuffs, yogurts, cheeses and such. In our previous home in the city, this would have been a non issue, as we NEVER lost power. In the new suburban home, we were without power for 12 hours, and I mentally cursed myself at every opportunity for having so much food that might spoil on hand. Next time, I'll stick to simply buying peanut butter and fruit until AFTER all threat of a power loss is past, and then go back to get the dairy and frozen foods.

Your nifty tank-less hot water heater, which saves you soooooo much money every month on your utility bills, needs power to heat the water. I took an ice cold shower with a flashlight shining on me. It felt a lot like what I imagine prison to be like. (Normally, I would have just skipped the shower, but I actually had to leave the house to socialize with people at a baby shower, so it was sort of necessary.) We need to get a back up battery for this. (Or, we need to just bite the bullet and put in a generator.)

This soup is really good, especially when it is rainy. I made it rather spicy (accidentally bought a can of hot hatch chiles), used whole milk instead of heavy cream, and tempeh bacon instead of regular bacon. We're eating it for dinner again tonight. If the power hadn't come back, and the leftovers had spoiled, I would have been severely put out.

Your garage door opener won't open without power. Duh. We should have gotten the one with the battery back up. We also should not have lost the key to the manual garage door. Double duh.

When you wake up to find the power is out, there isn't much you can do except go out for breakfast. I had this delectable stuffed french toast from Green Eggs Cafe.

Yes, I had the materials on hand to make my own, thanks to the shopping, but I didn't want to open the fridge and compromise the temperature. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

And just for fun, here is a lovely shot of the normally sedate Pennypack Creek, engorged to the size of a raging torrent.

Like lemmings, on the way home from breakfast, we followed all of the other cars on the road and parked to gawk at the spectacle.

When the power returns, your neighbors will actually cheer.

True Blood has been really mediocre this season (not really a hurricane lesson, just wanted to get this out there), except for the lovely amount of Eric and Alcide naked butt shots.

Earthquake Musings

2011-08-24T10:00:00.003-04:00

On my lunch hour yesterday, I decided to walk the length of the Ben Franklin Bridge. It's near enough to my building, but still makes for a semi-respectable lunch work out session. Ironically enough, I hate driving on bridges. My palms sweat, I have to be away from the edge in a center lane, and I always feel that when I reach the apex, my car is going to fly off into midair. As a passenger I'm fine. As a walker, I'm okay...I can admire the view, but if I get to close to the edge, the sweaty palms might kick in, depending on the distance to the ground/water.

As I walked, I listened to some music on my iPhone, admired the view, and at one moment, actually had a strange thought...what would happen if an earthquake struck while I was walking along the bridge. Would I be tossed off, to die a horrible death in the Delaware River? (I frequently have very morbid thoughts when I walk alone and am sunk in my own musings.) I wondered if the experience would be similar to the Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapse. (I originally saw this video in high school physics class...it's a classic, though completely unrelated to earthquakes.)

I returned to work from my walk safely, albeit slightly sweaty. About 45 minutes later, while I was sitting at my desk, the building began to shake. The floor beneath me actually felt as if it was going to toss me off of my chair. My first thought...oh shit, the mechanical equipment that lives in the basement below me is exploding. I am going to die at my workstation. Great. Then I realized it was probably an earthquake. This struck me as slightly weird, given my earlier train of thought.

30 seconds of shaking later, I was still alive. I was however, slightly freaked out, and feeling like some sort of clairvoyant.

What to do when your spouse is away.

2011-08-22T12:05:00.007-04:00

The husband, guitar player extraordinaire, has not toured very much in the last several years. In fact, I've gotten downright used to his regular presence at home lately. So much so, that I was really dreading this most recent two week absence, which is short in comparison to previous tours that I've survived. (The worst tour ever was one on which he spent five weeks away from home in December/January. There is nothing more depressing than being home alone in the dead of winter. I lost a lot of weight from not eating regularly, and walking the dogs constantly in cold weather to occupy myself. I can vouch for the weight loss effectiveness of "brown fat.")

So, what to do with myself?

I read. Thanks to George R.R. Martin, most of the reading was an 1100 page behemoth, his latest installment in the series A Song of Ice and Fire. I also squeezed in the follow up to The Magicians, The Magician King. Today I'm getting started on Y: The Last Man.

I watched some crap movies with the furry kids curled up with me. Burlesque. Country Strong. You know, movies that I wouldn't even dare to suggest to CPM because I know how ridiculous they are going to be. I enjoyed both.

I shopped. New glasses from Warby Parker were purchased. I was dead set on the green ones, but the brown ones kind of grew on me, so I got both. Their Home Try On program rules...I did two different sets of five frame options, and settled on these two. At $95 a piece, the combined cost is STILL less than what I paid for ONE pair of glasses on my last visit to the optician.

Finn

Nedwin

I bought some patio furniture at Lowe's. It's not expensive, but it does the job. I am particularly fond of the bright green umbrella. It makes me happy.

I also fixed some minor stuff that needed fixin' about the house, hung some pictures, that kind of crap. One thing is certain, it certainly is easier to keep the house clean when I'm only going around picking up after myself. (Having a spouse is a lot like having a toddler, sometimes.) Still, I cannot wait for him to get home. I would have made the worst military wife.

A little insight

2011-08-09T10:51:00.005-04:00

This will either be the most boring post ever, or you will learn a lot about how my brain works. You will see that I am possibly insane.

I hate kitchen clutter. Raising dogs from puppy hood taught me some important kitchen organization lessons. First, keep the counters free and clear of anything that you value. Dogs, especially puppies, will grab anything that appears interesting and/or edible from counters. (In a bag on the counter, gone, on a plate on the counter, gone, on the stove, gone. No matter how small your puppy, they will figure out a way to get up there.) Second, put locks on the cabinets. All of them. (My dogs easily figured out cabinets, including metal cabinets that had a magnetic latch--I said bye bye to my entire Tupperware collection, all of my wraps and baggies, miscellaneous and numerous food items, and a gallon of extra virgin olive oil.) Third, put the trash behind a door that requires opposable thumbs to open. Failing that, put it behind a door with a strong baby lock. Failing that, burn your trash outside until the neighbors complain.

The focus of this post will be the clear counter. My kitchen does not feature a handy bucket of kitchen utensils within easy reach of the stove. (I lost one early in puppyhood to the chewing, and decided to never replace it.) Nope, the utensils are (neatly) stashed in a drawer. There are no containers of tea bags (edible), no flour jars (edible), no sugar (edible). On the counter you will see my giant cutting board, my toaster oven, my Kitchen Aid stand mixer, my blender, dish soap, and the dish drainer. (If the dogs were not elderly, the dish soap and drainer would be hiding under the sink.) Basically, I keep out the big heavy items that if attacked by a curious pet, would knock them unconscious and teach them a lesson in counter avoidance. On the stove (back burner, far from curious paws), until yesterday, you would have also seen my glass tea kettle. We drink a lot of tea.

This one.

I've been through four of these kettles since CPM and I began cohabitating (that would have been 15 years ago). The whistling top has a tendency to melt. They are sometimes hard to find. (I always bought two at a time.) Still, I far prefer them to the "regular" teapot. I like being able to see my water and to know that the inside is actually clean of crud.

Lately, I've developed an interest in the electric tea kettle. I read about them on some blogs. I had deep internal debates. Did I really want another thing that would hang out on the counter? I decided this past weekend to make an exploratory trip to Bed Bath & Beyond. I found one that I liked, at a price that I didn't like.

This one.

I left the store without it, realizing that I had a (free) perfectly (free) serviceable (free) tea kettle at home. (I did however, get some new toothbrushes, a wall holder for my hair dryer, and some flushable bathroom wipes...who can leave that store empty handed?)

Yesterday, I arrived home from work and performed my ritual toss-bag-on-bench-take-dogs-outside routine. I noticed a funny smell in the house, but didn't investigate. I spent my usual five minutes tossing the frisbee to Squirt until she decided she was ready to pee. In my "mommy" voice, I asked the dogs if they wanted to go in and eat. They rushed in, I followed, and again, I noticed the smell.

As I approached the kitchen, I noticed the dog bowls were on the floor, as if the dogs had eaten already. Hmm, I thought. That's strange, their dad isn't home from work at the moment. He does work from home though, so, I decided to give the spouse a call to verify that the dogs had eaten earlier. As I was waiting for him to answer, I noticed that the stove was on. Let me write that again. THE STOVE WAS ON. NO ONE WAS HOME. On the lit burner was the remains of a glass tea kettle. Next to the stove, on the counter, was a mug with a tea bag inside, patiently awaiting the infusion of just barely boiling water. Unfortunately, the wait would be long, since the water had long boiled off and had left a lovely chemical laden burn mark inside the kettle. The house, miraculously, was not burnt down.

Needless to say, later that night, CPM gave me money and I went and bought the electric tea pot, which now holds a place of honor on my counter.

The end.

Carrots

2011-08-08T09:51:00.006-04:00

There is a horse farm located one block away from my house.

After having dinner at Cantina Feliz, we drove past the farm as the sun was setting, and I remembered that I had a bag of organic carrots lingering in the produce bin of the refrigerator. The horses, as you can see above, were tantalizingly close to the fence nearest our street. And thus, CPM and I made some equine friends. We feared that someone from the barn would yell at us for corrupting the horses, but we escaped detection!

The white horse featured above is a girl. She has one blue eye. She is also very pushy, as she shoved all of the others out of the way and in an attempt to get all of the carrots for herself.

This guy was my bud. I was out of carrots by the time he approached us, but he let me rub his head for a good long while. Possibly, he thought my fingers were carrots. He was very lippy.

I have a feeling I'll be buying lots of carrots in the days to come.

Being Honest

2011-08-01T12:50:00.003-04:00

I don't sew anymore.

I haven't sewn anything since my Halloween costume of 2010, and that was a last minute hack job, since we were deep into home renovations and moving plans.

All of my fabric has been in boxes in my basement since we moved into the house. The likelihood of it leaving those boxes for a viable project in my house is pretty slim. The likelihood of it leaving my house to be donated to someone who might actually use it is better.

There is just NO SPACE in the house for proper planning/cutting/sewing. (At a little over 800 square feet, there's actually no space for much of anything.) Eventually, we will finish the basement, and there could be space for sewing, but honestly, I've lost the urge to sew. I find that I far prefer buying a lovely, quality, item of clothing to sweating hours making something that I will definitely find a flaw in. The perfectionist in me demands finished seams and clothes that don't pucker. EVERYTHING that I've made for myself (with the exception of my Sencha Blouse and my bow tie bag) is gone, ravaged in closet downsizing missions, or tossed in a fit of distaste at the lack of garment perfection. Yes, I could work on achieving perfection, but patience is not a virtue that I possess in great quantities.

I don't actually miss the sewing. I sometimes wonder where I used to find the time to do it at all. After performing the normal post work rush of pet care/dinner prep/clean up/dog walking/miscellaneous house chores, it's usually time to collapse onto the couch and catch an hour of television before I fall asleep at 9 (or collapse into my chair and read for a bit--this depends on what night of the week we're talking about). The workday starts all over again for me at 5:30 a.m.

Weekends are a haze of house cleaning, laundry, food shopping, and other miscellaneous chores. If I'm lucky, feeling motivated, and the weather is cooperative I take a long bike ride or a long walk on one of the weekend days. Mostly, though, Sunday night arrives in a flash, I'm vacuuming madly, and I wonder again, when did I used to have time to sew? Do I even want to have time to sew? And if I'm honest with myself, the answer is no.

I like having the ability to sew, the knowledge that I can hem trousers, make curtains, or whip up a skirt. I enjoy reading crafty blogs and books. I just don't enjoy the act anymore. This doesn't make me sad. I have realized that I've mentally moved on. The item has been checked off of my "to do" list. I'm ready to learn some new things, or perhaps revisit old ones. (Maybe learn another language or craft. Maybe revisit the knitting, since it can be done in small spaces.)

I may sew again. I'll never get rid of the hardware, the machine, the scissors, the pins, the thread. I'll always be available to help those who can't hem their own pants.

Summer

2011-07-22T08:04:00.002-04:00

I recently spent a few days "downashore" at my parents' house. A niece and nephew were up visiting from Florida, and my other niece and nephews were also there. Thus we spent the weekend doing summery things...jumping and floating in the pool, laying on the beach, jumping waves in the ocean (yes, I went in), playing mini golf, eating ice cream, going on water slides. Phew. I'm exhausted just typing that. It's weird being the "grown up" at the shore, now. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was the kid harassing the adults (or more likely, the kid curled up in a chair on my grandparents' patio with a book and ignoring the adults). For instance, I get to sit in a chair at the beach? Digging in the sand is optional? Or, I'm the one handing out money to nieces and nephews or paying for the batting cages? How about, I'm the responsible one on the big water slides? Even weirder, one of the boys, at age 12, is taller than me, and the girls are big enough to wear my clothes. I am thoroughly freaked out.

***

Thanks to an early dismissal (how juvenile) from work, CPM and I took the opportunity to catch a 5 p.m. weekday showing of the last Harry Potter film. We rarely do the movies. CPM is so easily distracted by other people that going to the movies is something undertaken only when we KNOW there is a good chance I won't have to start a fist fight with the five irritating people behind us who keep talking to one another/answering their cellphones/listening to their ipod/letting their baby cry. We were lucky...5 p.m. on a Thursday is apparently a good time to see a film...it was just us and about 10 other people. The chatty chicks in front of us only needed one hiss/shush noise from me early in the credits, and they kept a lid on it for the remaining 2 hours. Late in the film, a lady behind us started texting, and the light from her phone became annoying, but it didn't rise to the level of me needing to threaten her life (trust me, I've done this). So, we enjoyed the film. What I did not enjoy was what happened overnight...I apparently dreamed that Nagini, the big snake, was in my bedroom, and was entering the blankets to kill me. I leapt out of bed and darted into my bathroom, flipping on the lights to scare the snake away. And then I realized there was no snake. It was still difficult to go back to sleep after that.

***

CPM recently did something so generous, big-hearted and kind for my sister, that I am still reeling. He is a big believer in "surprises," the kind that make your heart stop dead in your chest. So, this was a pretty big one, and while I don't want to discuss the details here, suffice it to say that it reaffirms what a great person he is, and how lucky I am to have him. Even if he is kind of a grouch from time to time.

Miscellany and Stuff...

2011-07-05T08:48:00.005-04:00

Three day weekends really throw me out of wack. So much happens that I am unable to come up with a pithy blog title that adequately summarizes the days...ergo, miscellany. And stuff.

CPM and I attended a family wedding on Saturday. Of course, in typical CPM fashion, something has to cause us to be late or almost late (we skipped the mass altogether due to his work schedule). About 2 hours before the reception start time, CPM called me and ordered to me to fill a bowl with ice and water, fill a bowl of dog food, and put it all into our yard. He had picked up a stray pooch on his travels through the rougher neighborhoods of Philadelphia.

This guy.

He was scrawny, skeletally thin, almost unable to walk from thirst, infested with fleas, and suffering from a terrible case of what I think is flea dermatitis (rash, patches of hair missing, open sores). And he was one of the sweetest, most affectionate puppies that I have ever met. After he slurped down two bowls of water, we gave him a bath with the hose, rubbed off as many fleas as we could, and applied a dose of Frontline. (I've never seen fleas actually jump off of a creature like that before. There was an actual cloud around him after the Frontline application.) He wouldn't touch any food, which really worried me. Unfortunately, he obviously needed much more help than we could give him, and we couldn't risk exposing our puppies to whatever he had going on, so CPM took him to the animal shelter. He's going to keep track of him, to make sure that he doesn't end up on the "kill" list.

So, after our doggy good deed, we spent the late afternoon at one of the best wedding receptions that I have ever attended. The food was relatively awful (with the exception of dessert...two words...chocolate fountain), but the 12 piece band was incredible, and all 300 guests danced for almost the entire time. We saw lots of family that we haven't seen in a bit, and even went out AFTER the reception for more socialization. And that's when we had Tony's tomato pie. (Really, an upside down pizza.) Thin, crispy crust. Ample sauce (cheese underneath). Delicious. We went back on July 4th AFTER a BBQ just to partake in a second pie. I'm almost mad that I know where this place is now, because I am a pizza addict, and will have to ride my bike lots to earn the right to get more.

On Sunday, I did a whole lot of nothing. Literally. Slept late. Made banana bread. Slept some more. And then on a walk through the neighborhood with one of the dogs, a guy approached me and asked if I would be willing to be interviewed about my neighborhood. In my head, I wondered if this was the moment that would be highlighted in a film version of my life...the moment that the serial killer conned me into believing he was a nice guy on an anthropological mission. I also wondered, as I usually do when a stranger seems really "nice," if this was just another weirdo religious proselytizer, who would trap me into a long conversation about how I needed to be "saved." Always willing to live on the edge, I invited Adam to join me on my walk around the block, and further invited him into my home to interview me. (Spoiler alert...he was not a serial killer or right wing Christian after all. Bullet = dodged.) Since Adam is blogging his project over on his site, I encourage you to take a peak. It really is an interesting idea, and I plan to follow along on his adventure. (I hope I don't sound like too much of an idiot in my interview.)

Finally, on the 4th, we attended a BBQ at a friend's house. This friend is a cop, his wife is a cop, his dad is an ex cop, all of the other attendees were cops. Basically, I was at the safest house in the area yesterday. I drank some tasty beer. CPM ate a piece of chicken (on the bone, yuck). And then we went to Tony's for pizza. Again.

Weekend, fin.

Happiness

2011-06-27T09:42:00.003-04:00

Jaime and spent a lovely afternoon together on Saturday. We had a great lunch at Sprig and Vine, did some wine tasting and shopping at Peddlar's Village, and capped the day at Bowman's Hill Wildflower Preserve. Basically, we spent a day doing things that I would have not been caught dead doing "for fun" in my youth. Somehow these things have become fun. Go figure.

I've been trying lately to do things that make me happy, even little things, like reading a book outside on my patio in the evening, taking a solo bike ride through the park, or buying myself a pair of shoes (retail therapy totally counts). I've been trying to avoid negativity, misery, and meanness, although it hangs like a miasma over some that I know. You know, "always look on the bright side of life" and "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything."

I don't really have a point today. Gah. Be nice to one another and to yourself, maybe? Don't sweat the small stuff?

Nesting and rearranging

2011-06-13T11:29:00.005-04:00

For a while now, I've had this unsettled feeling at home. You know, the sort of feeling where you wander from room to room, with an itch to do "something," but you don't know what that something is? Well, my something turned out to be a slight rearrangement of furniture in the living areas of the house, allowing for not one, but TWO trips to Ikea in a single day. I'm quite proud that on the first trip, I managed to wrangle an entire Expedit shelving unit into my car all by myself, got it home and into the house all by myself (not without falling up my back steps and tearing a brand new pair of shorts open from hip to thigh), and then assembled, placed and loaded the fucker, again, all by myself. (Spouse had banned further Ikea furniture from the house, but I overruled him, because all other options cost roughly four times what this cost.) So, I feel a little more settled. (Am I the only person who walks by new pieces of furniture a million times and admires my own handiwork?)

Squirt Approves of New Furniture

On the second trip, we got a chair for the living room. I had always felt a little barbaric in our living room...we had only a couch and a recliner. The layout was not "conversational." If you visited me, it was like coming to the movie theater...you could sit and look at my TV, which is an arguably awesome 52 inch HDTV, but that's not why you came over, right? You came to chat with me about how cool my pets are, or what an old codger my husband has become (ask me how many times he called the police to report noise violations recently)! Now we can do this face to face, you seated across the room from me. It is, sadly, very exciting. There were other accessories purchased, a drawer knife rack (no more knife block taking up space on my counters!), some pillow covers (matchy matchy!), some throw blankets (more matchy matchy!).

So, here are two Ikea related observations. I got there so early on Saturday, the store wasn't actually opened yet, and I had to kill time in their restaurant. They give out free coffee in the morning. And (here is the observation), it is tasty! In fact, it is so tasty that I will actually make a point to get a cup on future visits. Secondly, you know who I would like to meet? The guy who has the job of "undesigning" the furniture, so that it fits into flat boxes. Because this chair here...

...it was in a flat box. And that just blows my fucking mind.

The Situation

2011-06-06T08:14:00.007-04:00

Somehow or another, I found myself in a club in North Wildwood on Saturday night. Trust me, this is not my scene. However, this is a moment that will live forever in my memory, so why not share it with the internet?

Picture this. I am standing against a high top table along the fringes of the room, arms crossed, going on my third hour of waiting for a good song to be played by the DJ (preferably one without the same stupid techno beat that he's been playing over and over and over again), being the responsible designated driver, and having had nothing alcoholic to drink because it's possible that I will be called upon to drive us to another club soon. I'm entertaining myself by watching the drunk people around me perform elaborate courtship rituals which involve lots of fist pumping and dancing while holding their drinks. (I surmise that this is why white people are rumored to have no rhythm, that if they would just put the drinks down, they could let their inner rhythm demons loose.) I am amazed at the number of men who have definitely spent a lot more time fixing their hair tonight than I did. I see evidence of Jersey Shore style blowouts and ample usage of hair product. As the hours have passed, the crowd has gotten younger and drunker. I am convinced that there are at least some boys in possession of fake IDs, because they don't look old enough to shave.

So, me, leaning against table, arms crossed. A gentleman is passing by the table, in possession of the aforementioned blown out hairstyle, a popped collar polo shirt, and a fabulous tan (Gym Tan Laundry, perhaps?). He stops in front of me. He steps closer, reaches down, and uncrosses my arms from my chest. He leans in and says, "This is very negative body language that you have goin' on here. Open these arms up. See, better." Shocked that a stranger would dare put his hands on me, I can only stare. He leans in closer, plants a kiss on my cheek, whispers in my ear, "You're beautiful," and shimmies his way onto the dance floor. I am struck dumb, and turn in shock to my companions, who ask, "Did he just lay one on you?" "Yes. Yes, he did." And then I laugh, because it is just that ridiculous.

I even managed to dance to a few horrible techno songs after that. Apparently, a kiss from a stranger is as good as a few shots.

Major Weekend Accomplishment

2011-05-31T11:08:00.005-04:00

In a crazy fit of parsimony, before the relocation to the burbs, I canceled all the good cable channels. While this saved us a little bit of money, we lost HBO and Showtime. When the cable came back in the burbs, I stuck to my cheapskate guns and got the bare minimum HD package (the 52 inch flat screen just looks terrible in regular definition), which included Starz for free.

Starz unfortunately does not offer the same caliber of original programming that is available to those of us with a discerning TV watching palate. (Camelot straight up sucks.) I became tired of watching the same 10 episodes of whatever show was on HGTV. I switched over to watching repeat episodes of Iron Chef America. Still, the upcoming seasons of Dexter, True Blood and Entourage have been calling my name, as has the new series, Game of Thrones. Thus, I succumbed to the siren song of the cable upgrade. Fortunately, the evil empire that is Comcast Xfinity was offering some decent 1 year promotional pricing that included a free DVR. Sign me up!

Thus, CPM and I spent quality time this weekend by watching the entire last season of Dexter. This is not an activity that should be undertaken by anyone with a heart condition. At several points during our two marathon viewing sessions, I found myself pacing around the living room, or sitting on the couch, heart racing, hands shaking in fear. Good lord, how has he not been caught yet?

Some Pictures and Class

2011-05-19T09:43:00.003-04:00

We spent 10 days or so on Oahu. This was our sixth trip to Hawaii. We love it there. Yes, yes, expensive, blah blah blah (it's actually not that expensive when you have no kids). Yes, yes, really far. But it's worth it. All pictures are here.

Beach Gazing

Beach Dogs

Rich People's Stuff

A Coconut

My Dream House

***

I woke up to the sound of clinking silverware...

I was in first class, flying to Chicago from Honolulu. My mind took a moment to register this fact. My mouth was really dry, but I was laying flat on my "bed." I was covered by a real blanket. I had eaten a delicious dinner (fresh salad, cheese ravioli in a mushroom cream sauce), dessert (a freshly made ice cream sundae), and then passed out after drinking (possibly) an entire bottle of white wine. Surreal.

How did this happen?

Ah, well this entire vacation to Hawaii was based on some really cheap round trip tickets snagged thanks to Air Fare Watchdog. Of course, when you add in the lodging expenses for 10 nights, car rental, dining, shopping, etc., you've actually spent a whole bunch of money at the end of the day. Still, the tickets were incredibly cheap. Thus, when you are checking in for your return flight at the self service kiosk, and the screen offers you the chance to upgrade to first class for what is really not a lot of money in the scheme of things, your spouse tells you to do it, and you do it. Because you have a 9 hour flight home ahead of you, a flight that is taking you away from paradise and back to your job and your real life, and it will be nice to spend that 9 hours not crammed into a tiny seat like a veal calf, but luxuriating in actual space, edible food, and flight attendants who will simply refill your wine glass as soon as you've sipped it below half way full, without being asked for more.

That's how that happens.

And I'm not sure that I can ever fly coach again.

Monkey Bread and Mr. Peanut

2011-04-25T12:34:00.005-04:00

I've never made monkey bread. Ever. I have never even tasted it, although CPM claims to have devoured some at Jaime's house at a party. I must have been parked near the chips and dip or the M&M bowl that she always puts out (another of her ideas that I have stolen for all time, because M&Ms in a big bowl are just awesome).

For some reason, monkey bread popped into my head as the perfect treat to have on hand for a visit from some dear friends on Easter Sunday. I used Smitten Kitchen's recipe. I did not make the cream cheese glaze. I also veganized the recipe by using almond milk and vegan butter. That means that this was healthy monkey bread, because, as all the world knows, being vegan means that everything you eat is good for you :)

Thus, on Sunday, I woke myself up at 7:30: the dough requires two separate rises, and our visitors were arriving at 11. CPM was a little annoyed that the stand mixer was chugging away at 7:45 a.m., but that's what happens when your bedroom is right next to your kitchen. It's one of those things you get used to in a rancher. The mixer kneaded, the dough rose, I rolled balls of dough in butter and sugar, the dough rose again, then I baked. And dear gods, why didn't I ever do this before? I made Brian and Joselle take the few leftovers with them, to save me from myself...I could easily have spent the day popping little balls of sugary dough into my mouth.

***

CPM has been referring to me as Mrs. Peanut for the past two weeks. It's his new nickname for me, he says because my head is shaped like a peanut, and I should be wearing a monocle. Let's hope this nickname doesn't stick, because I am not starting a new blogging career as Mrs. Peanut. But Mrs. Peanut has gotten the perfect thing for her upcoming vacation, a peanut sized folding bike from Citizen Bikes. Our dream has always been to take our bikes with us on vacation. While I've read a lot about other people doing this, this will be a first for us. (CPM is taking his Xootr Swift.) Let's hope it all works out, because I'd love to be cruising around Waikiki on my teeny tiny bike.

Why am I afraid of something so small?

2011-04-22T08:02:00.004-04:00

When I sat in my chair at my desk this morning, it squeaked. Hmmm, I thought, this chair needs a little WD40. I proceeded to spin around in my chair, to bounce up and down, roll it back and forth, to see how bad the squeaking problem was. Oddly, the squeaking was not corresponding to any of my movements. That's when I realized I was actually hearing the sound of a mouse on a glue trap.

I know that sound well, from my time living in the basement unit of an apartment building downtown. CPM and I had a private entrance that was in a narrow alley, across from a few dumpsters (said dumpsters were also a convenient public toilet for various homeless fellows...ah, college living). There were holes in the baseboard everywhere. We stuffed them with steel wool. Once, I swear something was trying to chew through that steel to get me, as I huddled in fear on the living room futon. Another time, CPM left for work in the morning, and I woke up thinking that the battery in the smoke detector must have died, due to the frequency of the squeaking. Once it registered that I was listening to a mouse, I got the hell out of dodge and left the guy stuck on the trap for CPM to deal with upon his return to the apartment. (Said apartment also featured cockroaches that were roughly the size of 747s. Yeah, I do not miss that place.)

I have a deadly irrational fear of mice. I don't know why. They freak me out. Rats are even worse. I can safely look at the pet mice and rats in Petsmart, but the real thing, in the wild, skeeves me completely.

So, this morning, I began to thoroughly investigate my workstation. Where had maintenance staff put the trap? I moved my waste bin aside, and almost fainted when I saw a stray paper towel behind it. I was lightheaded at this point. Finally, standing up, surveying the open office area, I saw the trap, fifteen feet from me. The little guy had drug his trap away from the wall, out into the open area. He was a real fighter. He was also gigantic. Unfortunately for him, the building maintenance has a clear mouse disposal policy. And I'm wishing we had a department cat.

Is this for real? and other shit.

2011-04-12T10:09:00.003-04:00

Seriously. If you need to catch up with me: husband frequents a local pizza joint, chick at local pizza joint crafts a Missed Connection for him, friends notify husband, husband cutely confronts pizza slinger, we all laugh, all is well. And now, here she is, terminated from the pizza joint (probably for stalking old guys), and asking to KIT with my husband. Oh no she din't. Now the psycho in me is seriously contemplating a response. I won't though. My (male) co-workers have advised me to let the husband have the joy of an admirer, because there is so little happiness in life as it is. Okay, okay. Fine. But if she does it again, she's toast.

***

20 days and counting.

What? I got a frantic text message one day notifying me of "insanely low" airfares to Oahu from Newark. Indeed, I got tickets for a little over 400 per person, round trip. That is unheard of--it's about fifty percent less than the current average cost to fly round trip to Oahu from the east coast. It was a sign. A sign that it was time once again to return to vacationing. Yes, we have thousands of dollars of work left to do on the new house (landscaping, roofing, driveway repaving, etc). And yes, my husband is self employed, thus not really earning much in the way of actual money. But you know what? Who gives a shit! I could die next month. I haven't had a break from work (except the move week) in over a year. This winter has been beyond awful. I need warmth. I need a beach. I need Mai Tai's.

So, the disappointing thing about the trip is that I've grown too fat for all of my shorts from last summer. There. I put it in writing. While my brain fantasizes about losing a few pounds in the next few weeks, I know this is not going to happen (okay, it might, if I stick to my current self imposed pre vacation diet exercise torment schedule). I will embrace my new almost pre-muffin top. Old lady bathing suits, here I come.

Impatiently Tapping My Foot

2011-03-28T08:13:00.008-04:00

...in anticipation of the "real" spring weather. I know, I know, in two weeks, we (meaning you crazy people who dislike the heat) will all be bitching that we skipped spring and jumped right into the sticky humidity. Such is life on the east coast. Still, I'm eagerly awaiting 70 degree days and 50 degree nights, even if they only last for a day or two.

This weekend, it felt like CPM and I were on vacation. We did a lot of work around the house, but still managed to eat out more than we would normally on your "average" weekend. First, CPM took me to breakfast on Saturday morning. He owed me one. The weekend prior, he had passed a late night comment about "going to breakfast in the morning." Then we woke up and when I asked what we were doing, he told me to cook. Man, that really ticked me off! You know how you fall asleep anticipating your next meal? (What? Is that only me?) Well, to wake up and find out that I wasn't getting fancy coffee and treats was super irritating. Especially since Mr. Spouse happily snoozed away while I prepped the pancakes and tempeh bacon. Arg! So, to correct his mistake, on Saturday, he took me to Green Eggs Cafe in Northern Liberties. This was our second visit. (It has easily become one of our top five breakfast spots.) We always strategize our breakfast order...we both get a savory dish, and then we split a sweet as "dessert." This order: Veggie Benedict, Egg White Omelet with Mushrooms and Tomatoes, and Sticky Bun French Toast.

We did a whole bunch of stuff on Saturday (me: cleaning and food shopping, him, electrical work), then he took me to dinner. Trust me, this is only normal when we have house guests or are on vacation, I never expect two "out" meals in one day. Nevertheless, we found ourselves at Gunner's Run early on Saturday evening. Me: Vegan Sloppy Joes. Him: Panko Fried Cod. Verdict: Delicious. Secondary Verdict: Will be stealing pickle recipe. They are AMAZING.

On Sunday, I cooked breakfast. Just threw together some eggs benedict. You, know, eggs benedict is so quick and easy, I don't know why I don't make it every day. Actually, I really wanted to try out my new poachpods. I've tried the normal egg poaching methods, the whirlpool, the vinegar in the water, etc. My poached eggs still ended up looking like snot. These poachpod things are great! Just lube them up a touch, crack the eggs into the pods, float them in boiling water, cover, and five minutes later you have perfectly poached eggs.

We also have a new Sunday tradition. It's called "Pizza Sunday." Yes, we go out for pizza on Sunday night (or we have for the last five Sundays in a row, at least). We've been frequenting Pizzeria Stella. The pizza there is fantastic, if a little bit pricey. I'm not sure how long pizza Sunday will last...it's the one day of the week where I don't feel rushed to prep a meal, so I normally enjoy cooking. Pizza Sunday might just become Pizza Tuesday. Which would be a nice predecessor to Thai Wednesday. (What, you don't do Thai Wednesday?)

Connection Found

2011-03-25T08:23:00.004-04:00

I know all six readers of this blog are hungering to know the outcome of CPM's missed connection. Did he run away with the pizza girl? Did I go all psycho on her ass and send her copies of our wedding photos? Was it in fact just a juvenile prank by CPM's buddies? Relax people. You will get your answers.

CPM actually went to the same pizza place for lunch three times this week. (Yes, he did.) On the first visit, our mystery girl was not working. On the second, she was working, but he didn't say anything. Finally, yesterday, on a solo visit, he worked up the courage to do this:

CPM: What's your name?
Girl: Becky (not her name, name has been changed to protect the innocent)
CPM (smiling trademark CPM grin, blue eyes probably charmingly sparkly): If I told you that I was not an electrician would that mean anything to you? (I gave him kudos for being so cute and not creepy at this moment.)
Becky: OMG, you saw that?

CPM proceeded to laugh and tell her that he was extraordinarily flattered, that he was an old married man, and really thought that his buddies were pranking him. I'm sure the girl was embarrassed. (Side note: can't wait to go get pizza with CPM in tow!)

Once CPM shared the tale with me, we laughed a lot about how I need to go in and tell that girl that she needs to give me free pizza. In fact, we decided that I am actually doing the world a favor by keeping CPM off the market...he's extremely high maintenance and is a total pervert. (His favorite twitter feeds include Girls in Yoga Pants and Iced T's wife Coco for her trademark Thong Thursday posts.) Dear women of the world, send your gifts to my attention in thanks.

The end.

Missed Connections

2011-03-21T13:46:00.001-04:00

Yeah. We're pretty sure this missed connection is directed at my husband. I wonder if the young lady will be disappointed to find that he is not an electrician? Perhaps she needed some electrical work done? Too bad, he does the HVAC.

Needless to say, there is currently no living with CPM. He claims this is the best thing to have ever happened to him (when I asked, he answered: yes, even better than marrying me). I don't blame him. I'd be pretty stoked too, if not a little creeped out. Currently, all of the friends claim that it isn't them playing a cruel joke on his ego. I'm not so sure.

The question is, will I ever dine at this pizza place again? I'm not sure I could handle ordering without bursting into laughter.

Suburbs v. City

2011-03-17T12:49:00.002-04:00

While walking one of the dogs the other night after dinner, I came upon two police officers and another man calmly wheeling a corpse laden stretcher out of a house, and trying to stuff it into a minivan. (Is this where we all end up, in the back of a late model Ford Windstar?)

In our former city home, this would have been akin to a block party...every neighbor would have been out to watch the proceedings, kids would have been running around, shrieking, it would have been a festive chaos. Bad shit happens, neighbors watch and comment. It's the city way.

In the calm of the suburbs, the dog and I were the only ones to bear witness to this person's final "roll" down the sidewalk. I even felt guilty, as if I shouldn't have stumbled upon the scene. No one was out. No one was even peeking out of their curtains. It was spooky.

Before and After

2011-02-28T08:35:00.008-05:00

Let's start with the basics. We changed the layout. A lot. The easiest way to illustrate is to show you. Thus, here are the basic plans from before and after.

Layout before:

Layout after:

Living room before

Dining room before

Living and dining room after

Kitchen before

Kitchen after

One Bathroom before

Two Bathrooms after

Master bedroom before

Master bedroom after

Formerly the porch

Now the foyer

View from the living room into the kitchen and dining space

34

2011-02-22T09:23:00.003-05:00

If I review the year leading up to my 34th birthday, it was pretty stressful.
The spouse spent the first four months of 2010 working in Baltimore (boo!). Then he came home (yay!). He worked for a few weeks, then lost his job because the company went under (boo!). He decided to start his own company (yay!) and be his own boss. He partnered with his brother, who quit almost immediately (boo!). The spouse also accidentally started a feud with our evil former neighbors (boo!). Thus, we decided to move and bought a new house in the suburbs to renovate (yay!). We toiled for months. Then one of our dogs died (worst day of my life). We continued to toil. Until finally, we moved into our new house (yay!). We also sold the old house in the city (yay!). And then I turned 34.

Usually, birthdays are a BIG DEAL chez McGinniss. CPM and I try to outdo one another on gifts (I'm still trying to compete with 2008, the year he gifted me the Vespa, although, maybe we're even, since I took him to Hawaii for his 30th), we try to eat a meal out at a favorite restaurant, and there is at least one cake prepared. In short, all the holidays that we do not celebrate through the year (Xmas, Valentine's, Flag Day, etc.) get balled up into the Birthday (capital B intentional).

This year was different, and I'm fine with that. The day was an after-thought, we were busy on house stuff, however we did start with a lovely brunch at Farmicia (best brunch, hands down). I didn't make myself a cake until the day after. We decided to go out to eat dinner at the last minute on the actual day (Pizzeria Stella, because pizza is really my favorite food). There were no lavish gifts (except I bought myself a purse...hey, I had a coupon for the Coach store.) I've been saying that I'm living in my gift.

CPM and I did get to enjoy a lovely pre-birthday evening with my favorite friends. The Friday prior to my birthday, an unseasonably warm night for February in Philly, we met up at the Khyber Pass Pub for some delicious vegetarian dining. Unfortunately, the music was too loud to actually have a decent conversation, so we were forced to shout at one another. (I can tell that I'm getting old...we actually asked if the music could be turned down. Seriously. If I have to shout my order at the server, shit is too loud, turn it down.) We followed dinner up with ice cream from Franklin Fountain. My scoop of coffee ice cream with hot fudge sauce made me wish it were actually summer, and not just some flukey 60 degree February evening. (Funny observation about white people...as soon as the temperature hits 60, many break out the flip flops and shorts. Please, people. You look ridiculous. Your legs are white and scaly. Your toes are ungroomed. I advise you to keep it under lock and key until you exfoliate, apply some self tanner, and get the spring pedicure.)

Here's hoping that the coming year goes better than the previous. We still have a ton of work to do on the house. I promise, in the next few days, after I perform a cleaning, I will photograph the place for posterity.

Crash My House!!

2011-02-14T12:45:00.006-05:00

I promise I will eventually post photos of the "final" product, the house with furniture, but first, we pause for a brief description of how I spent my Saturday.

For the past six months, as we have renovated the house, CPM and I have spent our free "tv time" watching either HGTV or DIYNetwork. I don't know why I pay for Starz. It was thanks to numerous episodes of House Hunters that I successfully staged the old house--we had two offers in two days, were under contract in three, and closed in thirty. In this market. Bam. (Oh, did I forget to blog about that...I'll get to it, eventually, I promise.) Lately, we've been more DIY focused, as we've looked for inspiration, or just wanted random background noise while we played a game of Scrabble on Facebook. We've been saying for months that we need our own show.

So, Saturday, one week post final move in, I woke with a mission...to find some sort of shelving solution for the office closet. The new house is short of storage space. CPM lost his personal closet in our bedroom, thus his belongings have moved to the office closet. As he is a man with a t-shirt problem, I sought something upon which to stack the multitudes. Originally intending to head to Home Depot to return some merchandise, plans changed when the return became unnecessary. I went to Lowe's, since it's a touch closer, and has more to offer in the "home decor" area.

Upon entering the store, I notice there is a release posted on the doors...you know, "if you enter here, we can film you, record your voice, blah blah blah." I immediately got suspicious. I've watched a lot of House Crashers. I know that they prowl the home improvement store in search of willing participants. Just as I'm having that thought, Josh Temple and his camera crew pass before my very eyes.

I immediately began panicking. This was it! This was our chance! And CPM was at home! I called him to inform him that House Crashers was IN THE BUILDING and that he was missing our chance at getting a fabulous finished basement. He pep talked me. He told me that I had to go right over to the crew and tell them to crash our house. After hanging up, taking various deep breaths, I actually decided to skip the whole thing, shop for my shelves and leave. Un/fortunately, fate put the crew right in front of my cart as I turned around. And that's how I found myself trying to convince Josh Temple to crash my unfinished dungeon of a basement.

I don't know how much of the selection portion of the show is legit and how much of it is staged. Josh actually listened to my plea (possibly because I looked like a nutcase, and he just wanted to humor the crazy lady until she wandered away), asked me to describe what I wanted and finally asked why my project would be fun. Really? Have you not met my husband? Luckily I have this video of CPM from day one of demolition on our house.

He and the crew watched the video, laughed, then he agreed to look at the project!

I abandoned my empty cart right there (in Fashion Bath--Josh had been interviewing me while perched upon a toilet), and we proceeded to walk out of the store to my car, being filmed the entire way. I was shaking and nervous. I don't even remember what I was talking about...the weather? would they follow me in my car? Then we reached my car, and the next thing I know, Josh is walking back into Lowe's, and I'm meeting a PA, signing a release, giving her my contact information, and being told that they would be filming at the Lowe's store all day, and if I didn't hear from them by 4:00 pm, they had picked someone else. So, they give themselves options, obviously. I get it now.

Needless to say, we didn't get picked. It would have been nice to have been a fly on the wall of the production meeting when they went over their options. Was I the loony lady with the crazy husband? Did I come off as a "plant" since I just walked up to them and demanded that they crash my basement, then abandoned my cart without buying what I came in for when they agreed to check it out? Did I say the wrong thing? Were we eliminated because we live in the suburbs, not the city proper? What? Why? Arg.

All in all, it was a great experience and I love having the story to tell! I'll never watch the show the same way again!

2 for Wednesday

2011-02-02T13:03:00.001-05:00

It's the second day of the second month, so I'm posting a second post! Ha. Actually, I just want to document some of my planned schemes/projects/needs/wants for post move in...

First, I need curtains in my bedroom. All of our windows are 60 inches tall. Plus, we have about a foot of trim and moulding above them. Add the 39 inch floor clearance, and I need some pretty long panels, or a shitload of fabric. Both options point to several hundred dollars spent on window treatments in just this one room. Yikes. So, I'm planning to use canvas paint drop cloth panels as a temporary to possible permanent solution. They'll definitely work temporarily, and if I can motivate myself to do some creative dyeing or fabric painting, or even some sewn fabric embellishments, they may become permanent. See here for one version, but different options are all over the interwebz.

Second, I'm enamored with magnetic spice tin systems. But I refuse to pay bunches for something that is so ridiculously easy. Hence, I will probably buy some watchmaker's tins, some magnets, and begin glueing myself up a bunch. The side of the new fridge is magnetic, so that would be my probably storage area. Bam, instant pantry space savings.

I also need a blender. CPM burns through a blender every year. I'm considering either a Vitamix or a Blendtec. The shallow person inside my head likes the look of the Blendtec better, despite its lesser warranty. Yes, they are both ridiculously expensive for blenders. But CPM loves his smoothies. And you can do juices with whole fruits in both of them, so I can get rid of the gigantic Jack LaLanne power juicer behemoth that is crowding my pantry!

Phew, looks like we'll still be bleeding money for a while. Oh well, you can't take it with you.

Impulse Buyers

2011-02-02T10:13:00.003-05:00

For the majority of the renovation project, most product purchases were were made in this fashion:

Spouse and I proceed to nearest home improvement store after laboring all day at house. We are hungry and dirty. Purchase must be completed "now" because it's time to install whatever item we are shopping for.

Spouse: What light fixtures/medicine cabinets/door handles do you want to buy for the house?
Me: Who cares? Just buy whatever is on sale and let's go get dinner. I'm starving.

Similarly, many projects were completed simply because we grabbed something that we liked on impulse and tossed it into the cart. Case in point, the glass tile that now adorns the fireplace.

First, CPM spent a day constructing the mantel, and the frame for our 52 inch flat screen television out of leftover trim boards:

We went to Home Depot for something that evening, I don't recall what. On the way out, Home Depot had set up their "buy this crap" section, which included an assortment of glass tile sheets that were on sale.

Him: Hey, that's neat. Let's get some. We can put it on the fireplace.
Me: Sounds good! I'm hungry!

Thus, the following day, CPM completed his first solo tile job, with me providing helpful clean up assistance. We borrowed the tile saw from the guy who did our bathroom tile work. We used leftover slate tiles (found in our guest bathroom) to line the interior of the fireplace, and the new glass tile to do the exterior. Did you know that tile work is really easy? I write that as if I were the one making the measurements and cuts, but really, I think I could handle the saw if it came down to it.

Voila. Looks great.

We plan to put a vent free gas log set into the fireplace (that is, if our tile work hasn't turned the whole fireplace into a fire trap, in which case, it becomes a decorative item only, where I will stick some fancy candles for show.)

***

Really, the only advanced "research" that I did during this entire renovation process was for the appliances, and that was really only for pricing. Yes, I spent a lot of time on design blogs, but if you asked me six months ago if I had any idea that the house would look the way it does today, I would tell you "no." I had no idea what the finished product would look like. I knew the layout. Finishes got selected as we reached their install dates. We really just flew by the seat of our pants through the whole process. There are still things that I regret (like what I did to the kitchen layout will annoy me for life), but, in the end, I'm satisfied and looking forward to actually living in the house.

Moving day is this Sunday. (Thanks, impending snow/rain storm, for making me change from Saturday. I hate winter.)

Update Shmupdate

2011-01-26T10:37:00.002-05:00

To me, the new house looks the way it did one month ago. Basically, it's completely painted, the kitchen cabinets are installed, and there is one fully functioning and completed bathroom (in which I even hung a shower curtain this week). Hence, there are no pictures in this update. Also, my camera is all packed away in preparation for The Big Move of 2011, so there's that. Supposedly, my kitchen appliances will be delivered tomorrow. They've been rescheduled twice already, so I have little confidence in them actually making an appearance. This also means that I've had to reschedule the countertop measure twice. If I say much more about these delays, I might explode. I want my freaking refrigerator already.

When I'm at the New House ("working"), I keep randomly relocating piles of tools from the living room to a box in our new back hallway. Thus, if you are missing a screw driver, paint brush, drill bit or a tape measure, it is probably in that box. The tools keep getting piled back in the living room, though, because we have fifty million little odds and ends to complete and they all require some of those tools. My OCDish tendencies then require that they get put away. My visits to New House are usually an odd dance...I focus on the task at hand for a little while, and then get distracted by the need to move all the tools into the box. It's therapeutic, the useless cleaning up. Also, the spouse bought me a Dyson, so it's become fun to randomly vacuum things. (Unsolicited Dyson opinion...it's pretty awesome, however the cord is much shorter than I'm used to.)

The doggies have visited the place several times and have had the expected anxiety attacks...panting, whining, frantic sniffing, drooling. They are fine in the gigantic yard. Bones, my most senior dog, has actually participated in running and playing. Typically, he's a moper and a non player. I'm encouraged by the playing and hold onto hope that the move will be good for him. He hates the bamboo floors though, thanks to his reconstructed knee. This necessitated a visit to Ikea (aka ninth circle of hell) on a Sunday afternoon (seriously, don't do this, ever) to acquire various throw rugs. Bones will now be able to Frogger his way through the house. Squirt is happy so long as she has a fresh tennis ball to carry around.

Things I have learned in this renovatory process are many and varied. For instance, our spray foam guy made a mess of epic proportions on our vinyl window frames (even though he covered them in plastic). After much testing of various chemicals (and worrying that the staff of Home Depot would think I was making a bomb at home), it was Goof Off Professional Strength and my elbow grease that got the remnants of the spray foam insulation off. CPM learned that Clorox Wipes should NEVER be flushed down the toilet. (This is why I do all of the house cleaning.) Oh, and if you are our stucco guy (who hails from Ireland), "third" is pronounced "turd," which makes for all sorts of fun when Colin and I discuss how we are paying him his second "turd" for the work he has completed to date.

Thus, the move is scheduled, the Uhaul reserved. I've shifted some stuff up there, and I have more ready to go in small trips. The TV/Internet/phone got installed last weekend (possibly the most painless Comcast install ever) and it works. That's all for now.

Too Early to Make Some Noise?

2011-01-01T07:54:00.002-05:00

Typically, CPM and I would make an effort to stay awake and greet the new year's arrival. Unfortunately, due to extreme exhaustion, we both ended up asleep by 10pm last night. While I don't begrudge anyone their festive celebration of the year's end, I do begrudge them the opportunity to torment my dogs. For a good 45 minutes, Bones shook, and howled, and ran around the house whining thanks to the neighborhood fireworks, which began about 20 minutes before midnight. So, yes, we were awake for the New Year, though unintentionally. And right now, at 8am, I really want to go outside and bang on some pots and possibly set a car alarm off so that the idiots that tortured my poor puppies (yes Squirt was also terrified, but she shakes quietly in the corner) can have an early wake up with their post revelry head aches.

Doing Our Part to Stimulate the Economy

2010-12-30T08:54:00.007-05:00

Ah, the fun part of the home project. The buying of stuff. This week, I bought a lot of stuff.

First, on Tuesday, I ordered cabinets for the kitchen. I went to a place in South Philly recommended by a friend. I'm glad I did, because, otherwise, I would have ended up at Ikea, paying more money, and still having to assemble my chip board kitchen. At this place, the cabinets they sell are all solid wood, will arrive assembled, and were far less expensive (possibly because they were made by 7 year old children in China). There was a lot of yelling into telephones in Chinese involved during the order process(not by me, by the sales guy). Bottom line...the cabinets will be arriving on New Year's Eve. They look like this, except no glass doors:

On the same day that I broke my bank account on cabinets, CPM and I also proceeded to our local Home Depot, which I seem to visit at least once per day these days anyway, to take advantage of the "use your high rate store credit card and get your appliances interest free if you pay them off in 12 months" deal. Luckily, I was approved for enough to cover the cost of all of the kitchen appliances, plus a set of LG front loading, stackable washer and dryer. (Dear whomever buys my current home: you're welcome...the washer and dryer that I'm leaving behind are awesome, which is why I just bought the same set for my new house).

Fridge

Range

Dishwasher

You're jealous right? They're all stainless steel! I got a double oven! And a french door refrigerator! God, I'm drooling just thinking about these appliances.

In the days leading up to our spendy escapades, CPM was working diligently to install tons of trim. He's no carpenter, but you would never know it from the way things turned out. I played assistant carpenter and got to use the nail guns and wood putty. (Note: it is best to keep your blood sugar up when working as a team to install trim. I may or may not have had a minor foot stampy tantrummy moment during baseboard installation brought upon by attempting to get through the day solely on chocolate chip cookies, Cheez Its, and the contents of a box of Hershey's Pot O Gold chocolates.)

Front Door

Bedroom

The Big Picture

Floors and Finishes

2010-12-16T13:41:00.003-05:00

I haven't been doing a good job keeping track of the changes to the new place. When last I typed here, we were installing a fence. Since that time, the fence was completed, a fresh dumpster was delivered (seriously, this is the last dumpster, I swear), the garage got cleaned out, we painted every room and installed the hardwood floors. I only have pictures of the floor installation and living room paint. I neglected to take any photos of any of the other paint colors. Every time I would go to take a picture, there would be a big pile of trash in the way and I would get disgusted and put my camera or phone away, not wanting to share our messy home improvement ways with the world.

The walls in these photos are painted a Martha Stewart Living color, Magnetite, that I had matched by my MAB paint store. (I refuse to purchase paint from Home Depot or Lowe's, and we've always used MAB products in all of our paint projects.) CPM hates the color, but I love it. I keep telling him to wait and see, that the gray will be a great background for whatever colors we want to bring into the mix.

The floors are strand woven bamboo (in tiger) purchased from Ambient Bamboo. We chose the pattern by visiting a local Lumber Liquidators, then I did an internet search to see if I could get a better price on a similar product. Not only was the Ambient product better, but the plank size was much wider. Ambient shipped the product to me via UPS Freight, and I had to help the UPS guy unload the truck. That sucked, since it was cold and windy on the delivery day, and there were 50 boxes that each weighed 50 pounds divided between 2 skids. It got even better when one of the two skids just broke, so the boxes on that skid had to be unloaded from the UPS truck and taken to my front steps individually. Eventually I just gave up, piled the boxes on my lawn, and called CPM so that he could send help (i.e. two of his employees) to me to get the boxes into the house.

We had to rent a special nail gun to install the floors, as the material is an engineered bamboo product, and it is so hard that traditional hardwood nail guns won't work properly. The rental gun jammed approximately 800 times during the process, and CPM said a lot of bad words while unjamming the gun, but in the end, we got it done. I love the floor. CPM plans to form a break dance fight club. (First rule of break dance fight club: no talking about break dance fight club.) I wish I had gotten video of his back spins.

Currently, our mechanic is installing tile in the bathrooms. Yes, people, it is possible that I will have a flushing toilet early next week! I may not have doors, but, by god, I can pee inside! You don't realize what an advantage a guy has until you've had to pee in a port a potty when it's 19 degrees outside.

Outside Work

2010-11-30T13:28:00.003-05:00

After I don't know how many beautiful weekends spent working inside the new place, we decided that we should work on installing the fence on the coldest, windiest Saturday of the year so far. At least, that is how it seemed. Add to that the failure of the rental auger, and you have what might be termed an inauspicious start to a home improvement project. But, CPM and his crew are determined. The auger was exchanged for one that worked. The cold breeze was ignored. And a fence was mostly installed this past weekend. (Okay, there are still several panels and the gates to go in. It's 80 percent complete. Close enough.)

Lumberjacks!

Wow, the garage is really messy.

But the fence "look niiiice. I like."

The stucco guy has also been hard at work. Soon the outside will look as nice as the inside.

What's left to do inside the house is mostly finish work: installing wood trim, door jambs, window sills. We also must begin the nitty gritty of selecting tile, installing tile, putting in a REAL FLUSHING TOILET and FUNCTIONING SINK. Dear god, I can almost taste the anti-bacterial hand soap! I cannot wait to banish the porta potty from the drive way. CAN. NOT. WAIT. After that we need to pick a kitchen and some appliances. (Ikea? Maybe?). No biggie, right? This is never ending.

Warm House

2010-11-22T12:59:00.002-05:00

Because we did the whole "super high" ceiling thing in the house, we were basically limited to using spray foam insulation in the walls and ceiling. We used closed cell insulation. Hands down, this was the most expensive part of the renovation project. "Everyone" keeps telling us that we will reap benefits in the long run through cheaper utility bills. They better be right.

If you have any interest, the full set of spray foam insulation photos is here.

I will say little here about how the contractor hit us up for additional money on the last day of the job. Perhaps he knew how exhausted we were, and how much we just wanted to be done. My typical go eff yourself atty-tood was nonexistent, and he got what he wanted. He was a nice guy, just not the best business person. Basically, I feel screwed, because he was the low bidder, but ended up costing us the same amount as the highest bidder. What a racket.

A Handy Guide for Contractors

2010-11-19T14:55:00.002-05:00

What is it about contractors that makes them operate on their own wave length? Here are the things I want from contractors working for me:

1. A decent response time. Don't make me wait ages for a proposal. If I need to wait ages because you are swamped with work, just tell me you are busy. I will either understand and wait longer or I will seek someone else out. Avoiding any forms of communication with me just pisses me off.

2. An accurate number. Give me your best quote the first time. When I tell you that you lost the job to a competing contractor because your number was too high, it's too late for you to massage your quote to my liking. It just makes me think that you'll cheat me out of something or cut corners on the job to make your profit margin. You aren't getting the job. Be honest and up front in your original proposal.

4. Show up when you say you will, on time, every time. If you tell me you will be at my house between 7 and 7:30, do not show up at 7:40. Leave your house/shop early if you have to, but get to my house on time. I have a job, my husband has a job, and we are putting our lives on hold for you. Show us some consideration and respect. We are paying you after all.

5. Be prepared. Walk through the job after you quote it, and close to your start date. Figure out where your damn equipment will go. Do not call me on the morning that you start and tell me that your truck will not fit near my house and cause a panicked scramble to rearrange things. If you had walked through the job a few days ago, we could have calmly arranged things to suit your needs.

In short, if you are a contractor, treat people the way you would expect to be treated. Do not be an asshole.

Deep Breath

2010-11-15T08:47:00.003-05:00

I know that CPM and I are not the first people in the history of the world to lose a pet. But really, nothing prepares you for it. I have two other dogs and a cat to love, and I still can't stop thinking about the one that we said goodbye to this weekend. The house feels empty, when in reality, it is still full of puppies and dog fur tumbleweeds.

Things that really suck: doing my normal routine, and realizing how much time Ollie spent shadowing me, and just MISSING that shadow so desperately that I burst into tears at random and odd moments. When I would be chopping food up and cooking dinner, he would position himself so close to the counter, that stray vegetable scraps would typically land right in his mouth. Smart dog. He lay under my chair at dinner. Right under it. Chair adjustments were a challenge. He slept in my armpit, or right up against my back, or with his head on top of my chest, always. He lay by my feet when I sat on the couch. He loved apples and tomatoes, cheese and bread. Well, he loved all food actually. He loved to give kisses. He loved to "shake paw." He loved to chill. He was an incredible pet.

That I have written those last two paragraphs without sobbing is a major improvement. I realize now that I could never be a no dog household...I'm not even sure how we survived all those years that we didn't have pets. I took the other two dogs to get baths yesterday, and the emptiness of the house was painful.

The other dogs know that Ollie is gone. They both obsessively smelled the jeans I wore to take him to the emergency room on Saturday morning. Squirt whined all day, looking for him, frantically making me take her outside to the yard, then back in the house, to find him. Bones is just sad. It's funny. Ollie was the glue that held the pack together. Bones and Ollie were buds, Squirt and Ollie were buds. Bones and Squirt just kind of pass each other in the hallway, occasionally interacting. I'm sure that dynamic will change. They are both mad at Rocky, the cat, which is new. Maybe they blame him.

Today at the new house, we have our framing re-inspection. We failed the first go round, had to do a few things to satisfy the building inspector. If we fail this time, after the weekend that I've had, I may just lose my mind. Fingers crossed, knocking on wood, etc. I need this week to go better than the weekend.

Ollie

2010-11-13T15:57:00.005-05:00

Dear Ollie,

Almost eleven years ago, your dad and I went to the SPCA hoping to adopt a friend for your big brother, Bones, because we thought he was lonely. (We later learned that Bones is just morose and depressed all of the time, and would have preferred to be a lone dog.) You jumped up in excitement when we approached your enclosure, and peed right through the gate onto my Saucony. At that moment, I knew you were meant to be ours. You were about 12 weeks old when we brought you home.

For a little while, you were smaller than Bones.

You quickly tried to become Bones' best buddy.

You also tried to become his boss. You definitely won. The blanket lost though. I would later enter this room to find the two of you sheepishly covered in stuffing, one corner in each of your mouths.

You remained Bones' boss for a while. You were the terror of the house in your puppy hood. While Bones would peacefully hang out in the kitchen behind a baby gate while we were at work, you chewed through the gate, escaped to find where we hid the treats, ate them all, then pooped all over the living room. While Bones was content to gnaw on his water bowl or the phone cord, you figured out how to open all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. You ate all of my tupperware, all of my plastic utensils, all of the tin foil, baggies and wraps. You also somehow managed to one day ingest an entire gallon of olive oil. That was a stain that never came out of the rug. I once made a panicked call to the vet to find out if an entire package of fudge striped cookies would kill you. I don't know how many pairs of slip on Vans you ate. (Eventually, you resorted to simply cuddling my shoes, with your nose stuffed inside. Weirdo.) As I said, you were a terror. I laugh now, but then, I thought I wouldn't survive your puppy hood. I did, though, and you became the best dog, absolutely devoted to me.

Okay, so I apologize for Squirt. She usurped your alpha role in the house, within minutes of her arrival, actually. But she loved you immediately.

You both became my constant shadows. You slept by my side, she at my feet. I was never cold at night with the two of you around me. Right now, I wonder what it will be like to sleep with just one dog. (Bones prefers to hunker on the couch, pretending that I don't know it.) Possibly, I will no longer smush over into your dad at night. But mostly, I know I will really miss your weight on my side. It was a constant reassurance that you had my back. I also knew I would never fall off of the bed. Thanks bud.

Your favorite place was on a pillow, or cuddled with me on a blanket. You were, how do I say this, not the most energetic of dogs. For a while, one might even refer to you as "chubby." I'm sorry about putting you on the diet food, but it was for your own good.

This morning you left me. The doctor said that cancer ruptured something inside of you, and it was making you bleed inside your belly.

You weren't supposed to go so soon. Your dad and I bought a new house, with no steps, but it's not ready yet. Since your knee surgery a few years ago, you haven't liked the steps. You always waited until you were sure I wasn't coming back downstairs to make your way up to bed. You never met me in the basement when I got home from work, unless I called you down to go outside. When you did do steps, you took your time, allowing your insane sister to careen down the stairs past you, while you waited for her to pass, and then gingerly descended. You were so regal. If you could have spoken, I'm sure you would have had an upper crust British accent.

My Ollie, I will miss you.

A moment.

2010-11-02T08:56:00.003-04:00

I know the moment that I lost my sense of despondency over being trapped in a never ending home improvement project. It was the moment yesterday when I received the picture above via text message. It's a front door! A real door! For some reason, it makes me feel like this all will end for real some day soon. It's so dramatic! I feel like there should be a door installation ceremony, similar to the steel topping off ceremony that is held when a high rise is being constructed. There wasn't, but I did get to visit the door last night. The door is just fine.

For reference, here's one of the before views:

So the house looks like a house from the street now, and not some abandoned shack.

Progress, people! Progress.

Progress!

2010-11-01T13:01:00.004-04:00

I'll be honest. I thought we'd be living in the new place by now. Really, I should know better. In my professional life, I deal constantly with construction projects. I know all about delays. I guess I just thought that in my "real" life, I'd be immune. Unfortunately, I'm not. I've said this a few times in previous blogs, but it's now official: I hope we live in the house by the winter holidays. (I'm superstitious. I bet I just doomed myself to a President's Day 2011 moving weekend by putting that hope in writing so frequently.)

It's really frustrating that I don't have some sort of super power to make the construction be done NOW. Progress has been made, though. This weekend, we worked on electric and lights.

Obsessing over Half an Inch.

New windows are going in. It's hard to tell from the photos below, but those windows are all five feet tall. Five feet, people! I could stand upright in them!

This is the view of the dining room and living room, I'm standing in my kitchen.

This is the fireplace. I'm still a little freaked out that I will have a fireplace. It makes me wish I celebrated Christmas.

This is a view into my bedroom.

Finally, Phase 2 of "put the old exterior windows way up in the high wall inside the house" was successfully completed.

The Artist At Work

Dude with Ginormous Head Not Included

I also managed to complete a Halloween costume (poorly), attend a Halloween party (good times), and hand out candy to numerous trick or treaters (some lame ass kids had no costumes. What is wrong with America?). Phew. I'm really ready to have a "normal" week.

Gushing.

2010-10-26T09:00:00.003-04:00

Allow me to brag and name drop for just a moment. My husband, the great and powerful CPM, plays a mean guitar solo in None More Black. Today, NMB's newest record, Icons is out. I've been rocking it in the gym and in the car for the past few months. That's one of the benefits of being married to a band member...early access to their recordings. (Other benefits include an unending supply of t-shirts and hooded sweatshirts.) This record is awesome. Get it.

So, this past Saturday night, NMB played the Fat Wreck Chords CMJ showcase in Brooklyn, NY. This meant that the band members descended on my house for practice a few days prior to the show. I am lucky enough that CPM doesn't ban me from "guy time," so I get to hang out with the guys (this weekend's activity was a viewing of Jackass 3D) when practice is done. Truly, these guys are family now. I love each and every one of them. Also, they all eat my food and say I am a good cook, so that scores them points in my book. I live to feed people. It's the nurturer in me.

Someone recorded some of Saturday's show. Take a peak.

Not seen in the video is CPM's backstage orchestration of a triumphant use of Twitter to get someone's horrible/mean/awful girlfriend to finally break up with them. I normally disapprove of public displays of relationship troubles, but this girl was stalker level psycho, and wouldn't take a hint (Hint: If your boyfriend ships you back to your home state, that means he wants to break up.) I guess after about twenty random Twitter users sent pics of her guy with other girls (including a few professional dominatrixes), she finally caught on. Evil girlfriend eliminated.

I can honestly admit that I laughed more this weekend than I have in a while. CPM and I took a break from working on the new house and just hung out. We'll get back to house renovating this weekend.

Yesterday, I stayed home from work to sew a Halloween costume for myself. It's been months since I used the sewing machine. Nothing has changed...I spent a lot of time ripping out seams due to silly mistakes. I also found myself approximately 1 yard short of the main fabric that I was using, so I'm totally hacking the costume with two different fabrics. My goal is to use only fabric from my stash. I'm sewing Simplicity 4940. (It really is easy, I just made a stupid mistake and twisted something while sewing, necessitating the seam tearing. It was totally frustrating.) Hopefully, I can correct the error and get this thing done before the weekend.

Duct. Done. Dude.

2010-10-18T13:32:00.003-04:00

Spouse (aka Mr. Super HVAC guy) and I spent the weekend completing the installation of the duct work in the new place. When we bought the place, it had radiators. Yes, I know, radiator heat is awesome and super efficient, and doesn't cause bloody noses and headaches the way forced hot air can. Radiators, however, take up a ton of space in a tiny little house (one radiator beneath every stinking window), so they were demoed early on. We had intended to install radiant floor heat throughout the place. Then, the reality of the budget set in. We value engineered (go, me, with the construction terms) the radiant floor, and will instead have forced hot air. Mr. Spouse will install a humidifier so that I don't get dry air bloody noses and headaches. (They work fabulously, we have one in our current house heater, and I haven't had a problem since Mr. Spouse installed it.)

The plumbing is in progress. I forgot to take a picture of the big ass trench in the basement floor where the drain line was installed. If I disappear before that trench is filled in, you know where to look for the body now. If all goes well, the plumbing should be done this week. I still won't have a real toilet in the place though. Me and Mr. Porta Potty are getting used to one another. The key is to keep the number of people using the thing to a minimum. Unfortunately, this contradicts our need to have actual people doing work at the house. Maybe I should force all of our helpers to maintain a liquid only diet....hmmmmm.

For some reason, we've delayed starting the electrical work. Fingers crossed we get to that this weekend.

Once all of the mechanicals are completed, we will move to what is proving to be perhaps the most expensive part of the project: the spray foam insulation. We have decided to go with closed cell spray foam insulation in all of the exterior walls and in the ceiling. Because we vaulted the ceiling, and the joist bays are so shallow, we actually do not have the space to use traditional fiberglass insulation. Which is good, since fiberglass insulation is actually crap. So, what have I learned about spray foam insulation? One: it is not cheap. You can save some money by using open cell foam, but you need more of it, and it is not as good as closed cell foam. Two: It outperforms traditional fiberglass insulation so well that traditional R value ratings are irrelevant, and theoretically, you should only need a minimal layer. However, your local inspector will probably force you to install the code required R value anyway. Hence, you will be getting prices for 5.5 inches of closed cell foam in the ceiling, and you will drop dead from shock at the cost. Then you will start cutting the budget in other places to make up the money. C'est la vie.

This week will be a bit chaotic, since Mr. Spouse will be playing Mr. Rock and Roll Guy. Having house guests means I have to clean the bathroom instead of just wiping it down with a Clorox wipe and calling it a day. It also means we will get nothing done at the new place. Sigh. At this rate, I only hope we get to live there for the winter holidays.

Wait, what day is it?

2010-10-12T13:01:00.003-04:00

I begin this blog with a photo of a couple of Vegan Treats dessert items enjoyed at the wedding of some friends. No, I am not vegan. Yes, it's because "I can't live without cheese." Yes, I know what they do to cows to get the cheese made. I get over it. I also don't believe that vegan desserts are better than regular desserts. These ones are very, very good (Peanut Butter Bombe cupcake and Pumpkin Cheesecake) but I'm sorry, the best butter cream has real butter in it. The end. (Actually, not the end, because I have done a lot of vegan baking in my day, and I'm sorry, I simply prefer to bake non vegan. I could go on and on and on about why, but I won't. It's boring, and lots of people disagree with me, but I don't care. But I will bake vegan for you if you are vegan and I love you.)

So, where are we in house progress? Well, it looks the same way that it looked two weeks ago. Hence, no new photos (but see below for reference). There is a big ditch in the basement (for the plumbing), and some duct work has been installed. We're square in the midst of the mechanical portion of the construction. It's not as glamorous as the demo and the framing. But, it means we are closer to actually living in the place, and not just visiting it daily as if it were a sick parent in the hospital. At this point, I just hope we live there by the winter holidays.

I've been meeting with spray foam insulation contractors. That's about as exciting as it sounds. We talk R values and closed cell versus open cell foam. The windows have been delivered, and are awaiting installation, the front and back door will soon follow (none too soon since the latest work site drama involves a broken key in a really old lock, and the installation of a hasp and padlock to secure the place).

I've been doing a lot of number crunching. The budget is finite, you see, and I obsess over every dollar that we spend. I sometimes try to think about finishes, but I just can't. It's too soon. Maybe when the drywall is finally up. I do my best work at the last minute.

Allergies. Blech.

2010-09-27T09:59:00.005-04:00

Every year, my allergies find new and interesting ways to torment me. This year, they clogged my left ear with fluid for a week straight. The very descriptive diagnosis would be something like this: everything sounds like it is under water-itis. There really is no way to clear it up, short of slicing open your inner ear and sticking a tube in it. No thanks. Instead, I devised my own cocktail of over the counter drugs and finally have found some form of relief. Also, generic Zyrtec is bullshit. Real Zyrtec knows this and laughs whenever someone grabs the fake Target brand off of the shelf, knowing that they'll be back begging for the relief that only the real shit can provide. Fuckers.

***

This week in new house construction, I give you the tearing down of the wall to expand the foyer. While less dramatic than the breaching of the wall between east and west Berlin, it was still a pretty cool moment, walking into the house and seeing the expanded space.

Also, this week, CPM's great design idea came to fruition. "We" (meaning I watched and photographed while others worked) installed the former front window high up in the wall in the dining room. I believe an architect might refer to this as a "clerestory."

We are now ready to move onto the mechanical phase of construction. Bring on the plumbing, HVAC and electrical work!

First World Problems, People

2010-09-16T13:30:00.010-04:00

For the record, we are nowhere near being ready to do any decorating at the new place. Still, that doesn't stop me from trolling various design sites for inspiration (read, steal ideas that I can do in my house for cheap/free).

Alas, lights are not free. And we have a dramatically high entry way. The foyer ceiling will be about 10 feet high, which leads directly into the dining room, where the ceiling height is 12 feet or more (I forgot to confirm the height with the spouse). I know, I know. I'm gonna need a really big light up there. Like I said, first world problems.

The current house has ceiling fans in the kitchen and dining area. As a regular watcher of the now defunct Trading Spaces , I know they are not "design elements." They serve a purpose, to keep me cool. Now, however, I feel that I do not want a "big ass fan" in my grand entry way. I want a lovely light fixture. These are just inspiration/ideas. I'm notorious for buying stuff, looking at it, and changing my mind and kicking myself that I wasted money (if it's not returnable). The main problem is that I have no idea what my "taste" actually is.

I was surprised to find myself interested in anything this glassy, but there will be a pretty big leaded glass window behind it, so maybe that's what I'm feeling:

Then there is this "natural" chandelier. As Jaime pointed out via email, this will be a pain in the ass to clean. Also, it feels pretty "faery" to me. I'm not sure I'm a "faery" decor person. I've never actually been to a Renaissance Faire.

The next two are more along the lines of classic chandelier in my mind. Not gaudy, pretty simple, although the one is pushing the limit with the extra crystal hangers. Still, not too bad at all, right?

Finally, I include this one not because I am actually interested in it, but because I think it's crazy that Pottery Barn would charge $300 for something I think I could make on my own. I add the fact that I get to drink all of the wine in order to do it, so it's a pretty amazing project.

Apparently I Lack Vision

2010-09-13T20:50:00.005-04:00

We are now approximately one month into Operation Let's Build Us a Damn House in the Burbs and Move Away from the City. Let's recap, shall we?

For the last five weekends or so I have found myself covered in various forms of dirt and debris. It started with plaster dust and mouse poop as we demoed walls, which became squirrel nesting debris and cotton insulation as we demoed ceilings, which transformed into tar and pitch remnants as we peeled off the flat roof, which finally was capped by the piece de resistance of the human fecal matter from the basement poop pipe when we finally demoed the plumbing and mechanicals. This home renovation is brought to you by ample amounts of Tide and Downy.

I have sweated way more than I like to. I have eaten way too much pizza (home renovation also sponsored by Jules Thin Crust and Peace a Pizza). I have gained four pounds (seriously, WTF is up with that, I guess it's the pizza). I have used the porta potty and decided that running water and flushing toilets are gifts from God above. I locked myself in the garage for an hour and cried. I filled buckets too full with trash, couldn't lift them, and cried. (I have actually cried a whole lot less than I expected too on this project.)

I used a sawzall for the first time. (I want to use the nail gun next.) I'm good with the crow bar. I can eyeball a dumpster and estimate approximately how much more crap we can fit into it. But I am ready for the demo to be done and construction to begin.

And just like that, poof, we have a new wall. A new, really high wall.

Human Featured is Actual Size

When I walked through the house before we made the offer, I never even considered creating cathedral ceilings. That was all CPM's idea. I'm five foot two inches tall, and I rarely dust the corners on my normally sized house. I'm scared to death of the ceilings in the new place. I'm going to need a really long pole. (Pause for whatever dirty joke you wish to insert here.)

I also couldn't "see" how the new interior wall would look with the original leaded glass installed high up--that was also all CPM's idea. Now that the frames are built, I can see how amazing the place is going to be.

I've started obsessively trolling design websites for inspiration. HGTV is on constantly. Now the fun really begins, right?

Highlights of My Weekend

2010-09-07T09:52:00.005-04:00

Highlight 1

I locked myself in my new garage for about an hour on Saturday. I pause here for a renewed sense of panic as I relive the moment. Imagine lifting a spring-less garage door open from the outside, entering the garage, then, hearing the door slam down behind you. Now imagine trying to lift said spring-less door from the inside. The door does not budge. If you were me, you would be thankful that you could call your husband, who is busy at work, and panic over the phone, because you remembered to put your cell phone in your pocket. As he later told me, tears are his kryptonite. He was home to rescue me within an hour. I was shaken up and unable to work much for a few hours. As a thank you to CPM for the rescue, I gladly killed a bunch of ants later in the day (he hates bugs). Marriage, it's all about give and take.

Highlight 2

CPM made me pick up a pipe full of poop. The scene went something like this:

Me: (Returning to the basement after my millionth trip to the dumpster. Silently prepares to pick up some more trash to carry to dumpster.)
Him: "Take these pipes out, they are ready to go."
Me: (Struggling to lift heavy and unwieldy pipe, clutching said pipe close to my torso, "dirt" falling out of pipe onto me.)
Him: "You know, that pipe is full of poop."
Me: (Cue FREAKING OUT, HAND FLAPPING, YELLING).
Him: (Laughs hysterically)
Me: "I will never forgive you for this, ever."

Highlight 3

Hey, the new bathroom is up and running:

Man, that just doesn't get old.

Highlight 4

We also put in the new indoor pool:

Okay, it's not a pool. It's a hole in the basement floor. I'm killing myself with my construction humor.

Highlight 5

My husband, he has a big tool...collection.

Ha!

My Dogs Outsmart Me Every Time

2010-08-30T08:59:00.006-04:00

So, there's been this nest of baby bunnies in my backyard. In an attempt to prevent my dogs from killing them, I've done a couple of things. First, I constructed my patented baby bunny protective enclosure:

I've also minimized the time my dogs spend in the yard. Basically, I've just been letting them out in the yard to pee as soon as I get in from work, before I feed them. During this time, I hover over the bunny enclosure, shooing curious pooches to the opposite end of the yard, encouraging them to hurry up and pee already, so we can go in and leave the bunnies in peace.

This weekend, Bones the Bunny Killer tried to strike again. He's been on steroids, due to an insane allergy attack. This means he pees a lot. He's even peed in the house a few times because he just can't hold it more than an hour or two. So, I've been making increased use of the yard to get us through the steroid phase, letting him out in the yard to pee, because I know he'll just pick a spot immediately and go. He's a smart dog, though, and will run right to the bunny enclosure and pee right there while he madly sniffs away. This weekend, he finally figured out that his paw would fit into the holes of the crate.

Cue panicked baby bunny darting out of the crate, across the yard, out from my fence, and behind my neighbor's trash can. Cue insanely excited pooches, one of whom decides to try and squeeze herself under the fence to get the baby bunny. Cue one panicked human running around, screaming, trying to get the dogs back into the house. It was a madhouse. The dogs were finally herded back into the house, and I attempted to return the baby bunny to the nest. What I didn't know then, and what my research has told me this morning, is that this bunny is now ready to live on its own...

Twice, I tried to stick him back in the nest with his brothers and sisters and twice he scooted away and tried to hide elsewhere. I finally gave up, re-covered the nest with the crate, and left the yard, hoping he would head back on his own if he felt like it. This morning, when I checked the nest, all of the bunnies were gone. They really were ready! That, or a cat got them. I'm choosing to believe that they are out in the wide world of yards, making trouble for someone else's dogs.

UPDATE:
Squirt has now achieved the label of murderer. Apparently, the bunnies still sort of hang around the yard they were born in. One of the babies just didn't bounce out of the fence quickly enough last night, and he met his demise in the jaws of slobbering fiend. May he rest in eternal bunny peace. I made the spouse perform the clean up work. And now I know to check the yard for lingering bunny babies BEFORE I let the monsters loose.

You don't want this to happen when you are in the midst of a renovation.

2010-08-20T10:10:00.004-04:00

Phone rings.

I answer.

An automated recording from my credit card company's security department tells me that they have noticed suspicious activity on my account and need me to verify the last several transactions. When they get to the "money transfer at a Western Union," I scratch my head. Yeah, that one was not me, nor was it the spouse. Thus, pressing the appropriate button, I am transferred to a customer service representative, informed by this person that my cards are being canceled effective NOW, and new cards will be sent to me in 7-10 business days.

Yeah, that's just what you want to hear when you are renovating a house. Your primary purchasing source has just been shut down, and you must scramble to set up the back up purchasing source.

For the record, both credit cards are in my and the spouse's possession, so this is a case of someone, somehow, getting a hold of my information electronically or by snapping a photo of the card, copying down the number, whatever. Sigh. The price of life in the present, I suppose. This is the second time that my card has been replaced for security reasons.

A big thank you to the security department at Citi. You are on top of your game.

Dumb Rabbits

2010-08-19T08:04:00.002-04:00

I am a firm believer in evolution, and the whole "survival of the fittest" shebang that goes with it. However, when a bunny mommy is dumb enough to make her nest in my fenced back yard, the yard where my three psychotic Labradors run, dig, and eat rabbit poop, well, I just can't stand by and let "nature" (i.e. Bones the Bunny Killer) take its course.

I took a vacation day yesterday, in the hopes of catching up on minor and miscellaneous errands and chores that have piled up in my life. CPM and I spend all of our free weekend time working at the new house, and the rest of the weekend time we spend recovering from working at the new house (in other words, eating out and sleeping). Unfortunately, my day off began a bit earlier than I would have liked, as the early morning "get in the yard and pee so I can go back to sleep for another hour" trip was interrupted when Squirt discovered a baby bunny nest. Luckily, she's just curious, and not into killing things, so she was simply digging the protective grass away to take a peak when I heard the baby bunny screaming. (Have you ever heard a baby bunny scream? It's blood curdling.) I ran from the other end of the yard to intervene.

I know the sound, you see, because a few years back, Bones found a similar nest in a similar location in the yard. I thought he had found a squeaky toy lodged behind the air conditioner. Nope. It was a baby bunny, that he promptly shook by the neck until it stopped screaming. He got another one out of the nest before I was able to convince him to move and end the play. Once the babies were dead, he lost interest. Yes, my dog just wants to play with baby bunnies. Too bad play time is fatal.

So, I herded my now super excited dogs back into the house, returned to the yard to assess the damage (none, phew), then had a minor panic attack. WTF. A quick google search told me what I needed to know about baby bunny nests: do not disturb/remove them unless they are hurt or you know mom is dead. Mom comes back at dusk and dawn to feed them, so you can cover them up at all other times if you have to, but get the cover off at night so mom can return to feed them. Hence, I spent a portion of my morning at Lowe's purchasing a milk crate and some bricks to weight it down. Yes, I can keep my dogs out of the yard for the few weeks the babies need to mature, but I'm more concerned now that my lawn guy will run them over.

I tried to take a photo, but unfortunately, baby bunnies must have some kind of protective force field around them against cameras, because my iPhone's camera just froze up each time I attempted the shot. Instead, take a look at this heinous wallpaper that we uncovered in the kitchen/hallway at the new place. It's horrifying.

One bite at a time.

2010-08-16T10:26:00.004-04:00

Many times this weekend, I was forced to use CPM's motivational question on myself. I don't know where he got it, but it certainly helps to get me through the moments where I feel overwhelmed:

"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."

We spent the entire weekend at our new place continuing to demolish things. I never realized just how much stuff there is to demolish when you are renovating an entire house (all 900 square feet, just imagine if it were bigger). Just when you think that you are "almost done," you realize that you are not even close to almost done. In fact, you are so far from done that you better just go sit in the back yard and hyperventilate for a few moments, then run to Lowe's, then get lunch, then come back and face the mess some more. Thus far, we have produced 50 cubic yards of trash. Another 30 yard dumpster is arriving today. I feel confident that this too will be filled before we are done.

But really, I do feel like we are "almost done" the demo. Har. Har. Har.

The new house is a single level (with a basement). It has a peaked roof...it's basically shaped exactly like those houses you drew as a kid, a square with a triangle on top. One of CPM's first renovatory ideas was to vault the ceiling throughout the first floor. Since I'm only five feet two inches tall, fourteen foot ceilings were not a priority for me, but CPM insisted, so I'm along for the ride. It will look fabulous when it is done, I have no doubt. I just hope we get to live in it before December.

Oh, vaulting will be so easy CPM says. We just need to tear down this existing ceiling, and voila, VAULT! But wait, what's that, above the ceiling? A flat roof? This house had a flat roof first? And then they put the peaked roof on top of the flat roof? Okay, so we just also have to cut the flat roof out of the way, to expose the peak. And how many times did they coat the flat roof with tar BEFORE finally deciding to put the peak on? Okay, we'll just peel the four layers of tar off and then cut out the roof boards.

Luckily, I wasn't the one who spent two days in the tightly confined spaces between roofs, cutting and shaving tar off of roofing boards. No, I just got to assist in lugging the tar pieces to the dumpster and sweeping up and disposing of the assorted crap that rained from the ceiling. (It's no wonder that I decided to spend a portion of my Sunday, crow bar in hand, attacking the basement, demoing walls and ceilings by myself. In my mind, it was a far cleaner task.) We're about two-thirds of the way through opening up the ceiling. My goal is to be ready for framing during the first week of September.

I took no pictures this weekend, because to my eye, it all looks like "mess." I may try to go over tonight and get some shots. I'm supposed to be documenting this process after all.

Ah, where do I begin?

2010-08-05T09:42:00.003-04:00

For weeks, I have been hinting both here and on Facebook that "something" was happening in my life on July 30. Since that date has now passed, and the "something" is done, I feel comfortable sharing the news: CPM and I bought a new house! We are moving out of the city and into the burbs! Settlement was July 30.

First, I must share my insanity, my reason for being so reticent online about such wonderful news. I am superstitious. Insanely so. During the purchase process, I kept worrying that I would wake up one morning and the seller would have changed their mind, or the mortgage company would have laughed at us, and the deal would have fallen through. I convinced myself that if I said one word about the deal online, that it would crumble into dust. Hence, I stuck to hinting. And the deal was completed.

There were some typical stressful mortgage company antics in the days leading up to settlement, but since this was our second time going through the mortgage process, we were prepared for most of them. The most uncool antic was the call that I had to make to the IRS 20 minutes before our pre-settlement walk through. Immediately upon completing that call, I made CPM drive me right to the wine store.

You may be wondering what motivates us to move out of the city of Philadelphia, the city I have grown up in, a city that I often pretend to hate but actually love. It is just time. That's the best way I can put it. After 10 years living in and improving our current home, we are ready to move on to a new project. We are ready to sit in a yard instead of on a stoop, surrounded by trees and listening to crickets.

So, within hours of being handed the keys to our suburban abode, we began the renovation process. I'm documenting it here. The highlight of our first weekend at the house had to be the moment we found the first of two gigantic squirrel nests that were in our ceilings.

It made me glad that I was geared up like this for the demo process:

I keep expecting some squirrel commando unit to be waiting for us when we return to the house. So far, we've been safe. I also imagine that the squirrels may have hired some skunks to hit us or our dogs when we least expect it. Perhaps a raccoon assassin will make an appearance. (Note to readers: I'm currently copyrighting squirrel commando unit, skunk attack squads, raccoon assassins and any and all childrens books that result from these ideas.) Ah, country life. When I start complaining about cars exceeding the 25 mph speed limit, you'll know I've really gone over to the other side.

I have to take a moment now to officially thank all of the friends who made an appearance over our first demo weekend. Without them, we would not have made such incredible progress. I am so appreciative of their support and work. Demo is a thankless job, especially in the heat of summer. Luckily, we had perfect, non-humid summer weather all weekend. Even still, it was hot, hard work, and I commend anyone who performs such physical labor on a daily basis. As for me, I like my air-conditioned desk job. So, thank you friends, for sweating along with CPM and me.

CPM and I are now busy designing the new interior. I want to start getting excited for picking paint colors, tile, appliances, etc., but when your house looks like this

it's hard to think past the mess.

This is my husband.

2010-07-21T07:58:00.004-04:00

This person right here. This is my husband CPM. He has decided to join the blogosphere. God save us all.

For the past fourteen years I have been on the receiving end of many of his witticisms. He loves to make people laugh, often at my expense. It's part of his charm. I have often been told by people close to me that I am far too serious, that I don't smile or laugh enough. This is the absolute truth. You know something is funny if you HEAR me laughing. My typical laugh looks a lot like my typical scowl. I fear that I will end up looking like my Gram as I age: her lips were always pursed into the meanest face, and yet, she was (mostly) the sweetest lady (with a taste for candy that I sadly did not inherit...I could always count on her to try and offer me a lollipop that she had stashed in her purse, gotten from the bank teller.)

CPM and I met in College. While we had both attended the same high school, he graduated a year ahead of me, and with six thousand students in the school, our paths just never crossed. Thus, I had no idea who he was when I got to College...I was actually dating someone else when we met. On the day of our first meeting, in the dormitory dining hall, he sat at a table with a tray loaded with six different bowls of cereal.

Understand this: he was a commuter student, free loading with a mutual dorm friend. The unlimited cereal section of the dining hall was CPM's favorite spot. He was, and still is, a fan of the cereal. I approached the table where CPM sat, since I knew some other folks sitting with him, current boyfriend in tow, we sat, and I proceeded to have the best time. CPM cracked joke after joke, poking fun at my then boyfriend, making me laugh so hard that my cheeks were hurting. I should have known then that we would end up married, but it took a little time, a drama filled break up with the other guy, some miscellaneous group hang outs, and finally, a date to a gay dance club to cement the deal. If I ever run into the gay guy who cajoled CPM into kissing me (to prove his hetero-ness) while we waited in line to get our jackets from the coat check, I should hug him. Or punch him. Depending on my mood.

On his most recent blog entry, CPM writes of an incident that took place a few weeks back on our homestead. I am holding off on addressing said incident and its fallout for a bit longer. Due to my superstitious nature, I feel compelled to reserve discussion until certain scheduled events resulting from said incident have actually occurred. But once those events have come to fruition, I will let loose with all that I have been holding in reserve.

Until then...

Nostalgia

2010-07-10T13:40:00.004-04:00

For reasons that shall remain unspoken at the moment, I've been feeling rather nostalgic about my house. I decided to scan some photos in from my collection. (God, I love that everything is digital now. Scanning photos is a pain in the ass.)

The spouse and I, before we were spouses, bought this house in 1999. I was 22, just out of college, and had my first "real" job (which sucked, but it paid the bills). It was a huge move for us. We had lived in a series of apartments for three years together.

This is settlement/moving day, October 29, 1999 (we drove to the settlement with a loaded truck). We look so young and innocent. This photo was taken right after Colin tried to break my foot off with my gigantic desk as we moved it upstairs.

We got the place for a song from the children of the deceased original owners. The original owners purchased it from the builder in 1951. Then they decorated it. 48 years later, when we took possession, it appeared that they hadn't changed a thing. Take a look. I can attest to the fact that there were two layers of identical wallpaper on the walls. Within two days of moving in, I had it all torn off.

This is the world's worst kitchen. I lived with this until we remodeled it in 2003. By that time, I was feeling like quite the culinary martyr. You haven't baked cookies until you've done it in a kitchen with ZERO counter space and a crappy, leaky oven.

Soon after we moved in, we got this guy, Bones. He's subsequently been through all of our renovation projects. He's such a trooper. Notice that he was allowed on the furniture initially. That eventually changed. No pets on the furniture now (except during loud thunderstorms, when I become sympathetic to my big furry wussies.)

We did a bunch of cosmetic improvements on the first floor, and then decided that Bones was lonely (he actually wasn't lonely, he was just aloof). In early 2000, we adopted Ollie. Here, you can see some of the changes we made to the house. I was going through some sort of weird "country" phase, as you'll notice from the color scheme/decor. You can also see my oldest nephew (who is now 11) attempting to eat his own foot, just like the dog beside him.

After another year, our third baby joined us. Squirt. She has now become the leader of the pack, the bitch of all bitches. When she first arrived, though, she was this adorable. I made her wear the leash at all times so that I could get her outside to pee in seconds. She didn't come by her name innocently.

Then, in 2003, we redid the kitchen. We tore out the dining room, and made it into a nice, large space. It's a different color now, because we are insane, and have repainted a bunch of times since then, but the layout is the same. It is awesome. Colin did all of the work himself in the span of 5 weeks. I hid in the basement with the dogs, leaving only to retrieve dinner from various take out locales in the area.

I have to search around for some of the photos of other improvements we've made. We've upgraded the main bathroom, added a second bathroom in our basement, finished said basement, redid all of the bedrooms, and once more, repainted the living room. The house is truly livable now.

I should know better.

2010-06-28T10:16:00.003-04:00

Did you ever have the thought that when you are having a really good day, you will pay for it later with an equivalently bad day? I have that thought all the time. I have really good days and I just know that I'm gonna pay for my happiness. It's just how I think. And I'm always right about this.

Here is some stuff from my really good day. I went to Linvilla orchards with Jaime and her daughter. We picked raspberries, peaches and blueberries, in that order. Trust me when I say that is also the correct order...pick raspberries when you are fresh and full of energy, and won't be dissuaded by all of the prickly thorn scratches, peaches next because they are easy, and blueberries last because they are the friendliest, most relaxing fruit I have ever encountered in its natural form.

Raspberries...the black ones are meaner than the red ones, but surprisingly more abundant.

Peaches. Easy.

Blueberries. The color combination of ripe blue berry with unripe green berry on the bush seriously hypnotized me. If I could bottle this sensation and take it with me everywhere, I would. It borders on being synesthetic for me, I think.

I used my raspberries to make raspberry jam using this recipe. It is the greatest thing I have ever tasted. I purposely made pancakes to enjoy the jam, since I was too lazy to drive downtown to get some good bread. This jam is too good for store bought sliced bread. The peaches and blueberries still languish in the refrigerator, awaiting their culinary demise. It will probably be in cobbler form.

After the fruit picking and jam making, the weekend definitely went downhill. I sliced the top of my thumb open pretty badly while slicing bread at dinner on Saturday night, and that's the BEST thing that happened between then and Sunday night. I will refrain from airing the remaining portion of my weekend in the world of the interwebz, but hoo boy, I've seriously had it. Enough. Put a fork in me, I'm done.

I've Decided...

2010-06-21T09:17:00.002-04:00

I'm having a nervous breakdown. Seriously. Life just continues with its wacky loops. Eh. There is not enough wine in the world to help me cope. I've been living with random moments of panic, and then fleeting bits of contentment. Life is weird.

***

It's been a while since I've done anything even remotely crafty. Lack of mojo, I suppose, is the culprit. Since I've tossed most of my self made clothing into the "cut into scraps for a quilt" pile (that's what inevitably happens when you make stuff from quilting cotton), I've avoided my sewing room, only entering to iron various pieces of clothing and put food in my cat's bowl. So, it was time to "do something." Enter chutney.

Ever since I took that preserving class taught by Marisa McClellan, I've wanted to try to do some preserving on my own. Armed with the recipe from the class, I assembled all of the tools that I needed. Lest you think it is easy to come upon canning supplies in 2010, let me assure you that the opposite is the case.

First, I tried a trip to a local Walmart. I hate Walmart, but really, you would expect them to carry this sort of thing. They had nothing. I then tried a small, local hardware store. Apparently, small, local hardware stores aren't open on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. (This is why Home Depot and Lowes win...the convenience factor). Hence, I was forced to use Amazon to gather my tools: jar lifter, canning rack, lid magnet, wide mouth funnel. Despite having a Prime membership, FedEx decided to never deliver the order to me, and I was delayed an additional week while Amazon shipped replacement tools.

I then discover that the canning rack that I ordered is four inches bigger than my largest pot, so I was forced to buy a 20 quart stock pot. On Friday night, I made my husband schlep me around to three different stores to be sure I was getting "a deal." I refused to pay that much for a pot that I would use only a few times. In the end, I did spend more than I wanted to, and now I have a pot that is so large, I could cook myself in it.

Finally. I made a trip to the farmer's market on Saturday morning and grabbed some rhubarb and a few apples. I chopped, mixed, boiled, and voila. Chutney.

Lessons learned:

-20 quarts of water takes a LONG time to come to a rolling boil.
-Making chutney requires a lot of vinegar. The house will smell like vinegar for days after the chutney is done. It's actually kind of gross, and worries me for when I eventually make pickles.
-The canning rack that I bought on Amazon is a piece of crap, as it rusted immediately. WTF.

Next up in my preserving journey: a trip to Linvilla Orchards this Friday, picking some berries, and making some jam!

I am the punchline.

2010-06-04T13:59:00.005-04:00

Last night, I took my nieces and nephews shopping to get a gift for their mom's upcoming birthday. When we were done shopping, I brought them back to their house and I hung out with them for a bit to play outside. The littlest nephew, age four, at one point dropped his tennis racket, raced up the steps the front door and called out to me without preamble that he would let me know when he was done pooping. Right. Because, I deduced, in the absence of any other responsible adult, I had to wipe his butt. About five minutes later, he yelled that he was done, and I proceeded up into the toilet chamber of doom. He immediately asked for new underpants, before I could even evaluate the poop situation. Apparently, he didn't quite make it up the steps in time. Great. Then, after the new garments were produced, and the old were sanitized, it was time for the final clean up. What I discovered was that the little man had been having a bit of a rough week in the number two department. His little heiney was sore. The screams of horror that emerged from his mouth as I did the wiping broke my heart. He finally cried to me, "I want my mommy to wipe my butt." With a level stare, I replied, "I want your mommy to wipe your butt too."

***

Today, I took a walk at lunch. I grabbed a few books at the library, then headed over into Chinatown to get a Lemongrass Tofu Banh Mi sandwich for lunch. It was a lovely, leisurely walk, albeit a bit on the hot side. Banh Mi and books in hand, I headed back through Chinatown to my workplace. (Aside: Why do all Chinatowns smell so badly?) Then it happened. I was casually strolling on the sidewalk, thoughts elsewhere, when I heard a voice shout, "Look out," and I immediately felt a pain on my shoulder. Yes, I had been hit by a random piece of construction debris from an overloaded wheelbarrow being pushed by an overweight toothless laborer at an adjacent building's construction site. If any time ever called for the use of these letters, now is that time: WTF. I'm used to getting pooped on by birds while walking, it's kind of my "thing." Apparently, I now need to look out for stray pieces of building. The gentleman rolling the overloaded wheelbarrow was concerned that I might return and sue. I assured him I felt fine (although I could tell that I was going to have a nasty bruise at the very least) and continued on my way.

I realize that I have an easy case: careless construction worker harms innocent pedestrian on public sidewalk...it's kind of open and shut from an insurance perspective. But karma has been laying some heavy shit on me of late, so I'm using this as my "pay it forward" moment. I will not sue the neighboring building and its contractor, unless of course I wake up tomorrow and find I have a broken clavicle or something. All bets are off in that case. Karma can kiss my ass.

As the sausage turns.

2010-05-29T17:09:00.003-04:00

I went to the Piazza farmer's market today with Jaime and her daughter, Abby. While I only bought strawberries and radishes (huge radishes!), I was glad to get out of the house and away from the four footed mongrels that torment my existence if I so much as sit still for even a moment. Yes, Squirt, you are cute, but you torture me with your constant need to be chasing the ball.

Who me?

Thanks to the purveyor's of the Renaissance Sausage truck for keeping it real for the vegetarians of the world. I give you the veggie sausage sandwich. Delicious.

As it is a holiday weekend, I have a feeling that the Piazza farmer's market was sparsely populated by vendors. Thus, we headed to the Headhouse farmer's market to see who else was about. The answer: no one. Except for the Buttercream cupcake truck. Yes, I made a meal off of food trucks today. I haven't done that since college. The Turtle cupcake that I ate was awesome: vanilla cupcake with caramel frosting topped with pecans and chocolate ganache. You would see a picture below, except I ate the cupcake too quickly. Hence, you can gaze in wonder at the cupcake offerings.

For the record, my husband says I am obsessed with the idea of food trucks. And why not? What other venue gives you such flexibility of location and low overhead? It forces you to keep your menu limited to what you know you do well! I think Gordon Ramsay would approve of the many gourmet/specialty food trucks that have been cropping up of late. I know these two have my wholehearted support.

The Good Stuff

2010-05-26T07:48:00.004-04:00

The bad stuff in my life right now is getting a little better. There is a plan of attack to make it go away. It is complicated and frustrating and scary and exciting all at once. It won't be easy, of course. Why should it be?

But there is also some good stuff. I got home yesterday and found a surprise waiting for me. My awesome friend Richard, aka Horsebites, had gifted me with a print of my favorite of his paintings.

Growing up, I spent a lot of family vacations in Orlando, Florida, and at Disney World in particular. There are both good and bad memories. Some dark stuff happened...like the time my dad jammed cigarette butts from the car ashtray into my mouth while we were stuck in Orlando traffic because I was being a smart-ass. (Yeah, we don't talk anymore.) The same dad would ride every roller coaster with me and act like a giant goofball. For some reason, I feel like this picture adequately captures those memories, the good ones and the bad ones. I've coveted it since I saw the original hanging in a gallery in Lancaster.

Thanks, Richard.

Now, after reading this, go buy some of his stuff, pronto. He's staying at my house right now, and he eats like a horse, so he needs to be making some cash! (I might also make a comment about his penchant for passing very loud gas on my couch, but I am a respectable lady, and will refrain from such talk.)

Beautiful Days

2010-05-17T14:12:00.003-04:00

You know how a day can be so heart-achingly beautiful that eventually you just know it is going to turn to shit? Yeah, that happened to me Saturday. Except, I'm only going to write about the good stuff that happened. Because the bad stuff...pthbbbt...that is me giving the bad stuff a great big raspberry. The bad stuff going on in my life right now can just go straight to hell.

For a long while I have been online stalking the author of the blog Food in Jars. Marisa McClellan is a local food writer who happens to be obsessed with preserving, and who teaches classes that are walking distance from my place of employment. While I missed out on last summer's classes, this year, I vowed I would not make the same mistake. Hence, when she announced her class schedule on her blog earlier this spring, I quickly registered for the Rhubarb Chutney class. Why chutney, you ask? Well, the spouse is completely obsessed with chutney and cheese. Whenever we eat at Farmicia, we order the cheese plate which comes with chutney. We have to get extra chutney for the spouse. He inhales it. Thus, chutney class.

I was initially apprehensive about attending a class full of strangers (it all goes back to being really awkward in school and dreading any new social situations), but I was accompanied by my best bud Jaime, so I felt protected and safe! And my worry was for naught. The class was small and intimate, only 8 people plus Marisa, and we were all there for the same reason. We gathered in an Ikea furnished kitchen in a group work space for an hour and half, and learned to make chutney. I got to chop rhubarb! And an onion! I stirred! I filled a jar! Trust me, this is actually exciting. Marisa has a very engaging teaching style, and manages to provide a lot of helpful general preserving tips throughout the lesson. I now envision myself making pickles and preserves regularly! Woohoo, another hobby!

Jaime lamented her lack of camera, because she saw a great shot, so I used my iPhone to try and capture the moment for her. (For the record, the Shake It Photo app can make any photo look super "arty.")

After class was completed, Jaime and I took our souvenir jars of chutney and proceeded to walk through Old City. Conveniently, there was a "sidewalk sale" event going on. I got a new wallet and a sweet little bottle cap necklace. Then we had a great lunch and went home. Honestly, while walking back to my car, I kept thinking how perfect the day had been up to that point.

It is at this point that the shitty parts of my life start to intrude, thus I will end this here. The shitty things going on will greatly influence much of what occurs in my life for the foreseeable future. My goal is to not let them take over.

Wildwood Days

2010-05-09T20:24:00.005-04:00

My parents live at the Jersey shore. I went there this weekend to do some sewing with my mom and to celebrate Mother's Day. Neat fact about the Wildwood Boardwalk: Moms ride all amusements free on Mother's Day, and all adult women are Moms. Score for childless me! I love roller coasters.

I'm pretty sure I went on a "date" as a teen and saw Boyz N The Hood here:

Best Ride:

In a month, this beach will be packed:

This ride made me nauseous. What's up with that? Getting old sucks.

111 Posts

2010-05-05T10:20:00.002-04:00

I've been avoiding this space because I have nothing good to say. For the last 11 weeks, the spouse has been working in Baltimore. He comes home on weekends exhausted. For the next couple of weekends, our schedules will be such that we will barely see one another, first with me traveling then with him traveling.

Because I spend the week home alone eating unsatisfying food, I often want to eat out on weekends. The spouse eats out for all of his meals all week, and probably wants delicious home cooked meals when he is home. It's quite frustrating, because I feel guilty for not cooking good food for him while he is home. While I usually enjoy preparing elaborate meals, I hate that I will spend a lot of time on a given weekend day in the kitchen preparing meals or cleaning up after one. There are also the normal weekend chores to attend to...laundry, housecleaning, etc. Yes, I do it all, from food shopping to clean up. I'm going to stop this train of thought now, before I start getting pissed that I've essentially become a professional housekeeper.

I am kind of hating life right now.

I am also hovering in indecision on many things, some big, some small. One small thing: should I even continue to post here? I enjoy Twittering a bit more. I like Flickr as well. But the blog, eh. No one reads it, and I don't blame them. I've even considered deleting my Facebook account. I won't, though, because I am seriously addicted to the Scrabble.

Food Boner

2010-04-24T16:39:00.004-04:00

CPM and I used to travel to King of Prussia mall just to eat at Bertolini's, an italian restaurant that closed about a year ago. CPM loved the dish they called Fazzoletto. They even took it off the menu for a time, but he was so desperate, that he spoke to the manager, and was told to call ahead before we got there, and they would make it up for him as a special. That was some pretty good service for a semi-chain restaurant in a mall.

For some reason, I decided to attempt to recreate the dish today. I wanted to blog about it so I have a record of my recipe. CPM devoured his entire serving and half of mine, which is exactly what he would do at the restaurant, so I think I got it right! Fazzoletto as served at Bertolini's was sheets of pasta, topped with a spinach and ricotta mixture, with a mushroom gravy over top. I actually found an article from a Las Vegas paper online that sort of had the recipe, but mostly I had to wing it. Here is what I did...

Ingredients
11 oz fresh baby spinach
EVOO for saute of spinach
8 oz sliced baby portabellas
4 oz sliced mixed wild mushrooms
2 regular portabellas, chopped
8 oz mushroom broth
1 small container whole milk ricotta
2 cups whole milk, brought just to a boil
4 (2 for mushroom sauce, 2 for bechamel) tbsp butter
2 tbsp flour
salt, pepper, nutmeg, thyme
pasta sheets, about 2 per person, 5 inches wide by 12 inches long (I got mine at Whole Foods in the fresh pasta section, it came in a 9 oz. container)

1. Saute the baby spinach in the EVOO until wilted.
2. Mix the spinach with the ricotta in a large bowl, adding some salt and pepper for flavor. Set aside.
3. Make a bechamel. I used this recipe, except I halved it: I melted 2 tbsp. of butter, then added 2 tbsp of flour, and whisked it until smooth. Once it turned the "toasty" color, I added the 2 cups of almost boiling milk, and whisked it constantly for 10 minutes. Once done, I put in 1 tsp. of salt and a dash of nutmeg.
4. Mix the ricotta/spinach into the bechamel. Set aside.
5. Turn on the pasta water at this point. The spinach/bechamel/ricotta mix can sit while you do the rest.
6. Melt 2 tbsp butter in a small saucepan. Add all of the mushrooms. Stir around. Add some salt and pepper. I also threw in some thyme. Let this saute for a few minutes.
7. After a few minutes, add the mushroom broth to the mushrooms. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and let simmer for 10 minutes.
8. After 10 minutes, scoop about half the mushrooms out, and puree the remaining mixture using a stick blender (or use your regular blender). Add the mushrooms back. This is your mushroom sauce.
9. Put your pasta in the now boiling water and cook according the package directions.

To serve, I put one sheet of pasta in a dish, and folded it around several scoops of the cheese/bechamel sauce. Over top of this, I put a ladel of the mushroom gravy. Top with parmiggiano reggiano cheese.

Voila.

Balls!

2010-04-19T08:01:00.003-04:00

On Friday night, I broke part of my car, my beautiful one year old car, by slamming the back gate down on a shopping cart in the Target parking lot. I cried when I saw what I did. I have to take it to the dealer to see if they can fix it without costing me a fortune. I have low expectations on this point. If I get out of there for less than 500 dollars, I'll count myself lucky. (I'm blaming all of the allergy medications that I've been taking for dulling my usual crack reflexes...Ha!)

On Saturday, I took my nephew to the zoo. We had a really good time! I'm surprised about this. I was nervous that there would be toddler drama of some sort. There was none. He walked the entire time, and except for a last minute change of heart when it came to riding a pony, was super excited to see all of the animals. Note to Philadelphia parents: the Zoo gives you your pony ride money back when the kid backs out. This is a great policy!

Love this:

He had no problem with the carousel:

Of course, I bought him some crap at the Zoo shop. One item in particular kept him occupied for the rest of the night at home, and the following morning...a giraffe "grabber" thing. Whatever. It was awesome and I broke it, as I was putting him into his car seat for the return trip to his house on Sunday morning. Yeah, I'm two for two on the breaking crap front this weekend. Except, I'm slightly obsessed with this cheap toy...I feel like I have to fix it or replace it, because the kid freaked out when he was home and realized that he didn't have his giraffe. It cost about two dollars and I can't get it out of my head. Yeah, I have issues.

At a certain point yesterday, I decided that I just can't do anything right. The sensation of being a total klutz was actually suffocating. After breaking two things in three days, I decided to make chocolate cupcakes to console myself. Then, I filled the cupcake tins too far, and the cupcakes exploded out of their holders, and stuck to the pans. This cupcake failure just continued my feelings of inadequacy. I had reached my breaking point. My loving spouse came into the kitchen and found me stabbing cupcakes in their tins. He quickly offered to take me out to dinner. This was a good idea. It gave me time to reflect on what to do with those failed cupcakes.

Thus, I made chocolate cake balls! And lo, they are deadly delicious. I used the chocolate cake and frosting recipes on the back of the Hershey's cocoa and followed instructions provided by the queen of cake pops, Bakerella for forming and coating the balls. (Yes, I am going out of my way to use "balls" as much as possible. Take that, Google.) One day, when I am less frantic, I will take my time, and try to make them attractive. For now, I just have to settle for them being adictively delicious.

Cake Balls! Chocolate Cake Balls!

It's been a while.

2010-04-16T09:20:00.002-04:00

The last time I spent extended alone time with a toddler was many, many years ago. I was an ace aunt, I rocked the cool toys, I knew all the cool toddler shows (Blues Clues, with Steve, and Bear in the Big Blue House). Then those toddler nieces and nephews grew big. But lo, their mom, my sister, decided to produce a new kid and I'm spending the day with him tomorrow. It's an overnight visit. Just me and him. His uncle will be lurking about the homestead, of course, but Uncle CPM is pretty hands off when it comes to the kiddies.

The forecast calls for a little bit of rain, but I'm going to be brave and take him to the zoo anyway (yes, by myself). I just renewed my zoo membership and the kid loves him some monkeys. My goal is to wear him out. I have a feeling it will be me that is worn out before the day is done.

Blarg

2010-04-12T08:47:00.004-04:00

-Items sewn in recent weeks: none.
-Mood in recent weeks: extra cranky with a side of bitchy.
-Thing I have most want to say to people in recent weeks: Your kids are not as cute as you think they are. They make far too many shrieky noises and drop trash and toys on my lawn. Please, use birth control.
-Spouse's location in recent weeks: Baltimore, Maryland, i.e. not home. I'm not sure when he is going to come home for more than two days at a time.
-Diet in recent weeks: mostly unhealthy due to lack of responsible food shopping and meal planning. I may try to rectify that today. At the very least, I want to get myself some avocados and tomatoes for sandwiches that do not involve PB n J.
-My Philadelphian experience in recent weeks: hearing gunshots at home and driving through bad neighborhoods.

Bag Fail, Shirt Success!

2010-03-28T12:15:00.003-04:00

Firstly, my husband is currently still sleeping. It is 12:15. I've been making all sorts of racket in the sewing room upstairs, and still he peacefully slumbers away. Amazing.

Yesterday, I spent a few hours attempting to make a canvas bag similar to one I saw at the Gap. Honestly, I don't even know why I try these things. Despite my best efforts, including the use of CAD to plot the pattern, the first result still looked a lot like a shapeless tote bag. I think I was meant to be a bag consumer and not a bag designer. I'm okay with that. I even decided against buying the bag, because I think the Gap bag would probably have looked the same loaded up with all of my crap.

This morning, I decided to tackle the men's shirt refashion as described here on Clevergirl's blog.

The first challenge for me is that I don't own a dress form, so I was winging the whole "pin to fit" part. On the first shirt that I attempted (purchased for 2 bux at the thrift store), I actually forgot that I am a pear, whereas Clevergirl is lucky enough to be normal shaped. So, I mistakenly cut too much off around the hips and wouldn't have been able to button the shirt after I sewed up the side seams. Back to the drawing board.

Luckily, my husband has recently outgrown a bunch of his dress shirts, so I have tons of raw material. I've been fixated on blue lately, so I chose a blue one to mess with. This time, I did better. A dress form would have definitely improved the end result. I tried to use an existing shirt to approximate where the shoulder/sleeve insertion point was located, and I still think I overshot the mark a bit. Also, it's a bit boring. It looks fine covered in a cardigan and with a scarf, but it feels a little blah all on it's own. See below.

To remake the sleeve, I used the sleeve pattern from Simplicity 4077. I'm getting better at the whole gathering and sleeve insertion process. It's like I actually enjoy it or something!

The end result

All dressed up

Kind of blah

To do tomorrow morning...

2010-03-26T10:29:00.003-04:00

Attempt to knock off a summer purse that I saw at Gap...

The best part of this project...all of the supplies cost me about $5 at Jomar. I'll work on it tomorrow, and if it is a total failure, I'll simply use the 20% off coupon that I have for Gap and just buy the real thing. I feel like I have to make an effort on my own, though.

Colette Sencha: Fin

2010-03-24T20:25:00.002-04:00

My first attempt at the Colette Sencha blouse was a success, I think. It definitely looks fine under a jacket or cardigan, and I can absolutely see it tucked into a super high waist pencil skirt (must get right on locating the perfect pattern for that).

I cut and sewed the size four with no alterations. I like that the pattern size is so close to ready to wear sizing! I used a cheapy fake silk from Joann Fabric. I spread my work out over the course of a few evenings after work...there is a lot of hand sewing (sleeve hems, bottom hem), and I didn't want to lose patience.

I will absolutely sew this again and hopefully improve the wonky parts. Oh, I used colored snaps instead of sew in snaps in the back closure. To accomplish this on such a thin fabric, I did interface the back facings per the advice of some others who had sewn the Sencha. I'm glad I did.

Instant Gratification

2010-03-23T19:46:00.002-04:00

I'm working on my Sencha blouse. I'm taking my time, doing a little each night. Still, I needed a little instant gratification. While killing time on the web today, I came across this scarf by Land's End. I remembered that I had some cheap knit in almost the same print left in my stash. Hence, this:

It took five minutes with the scissors, and it was a scrap piece of fabric. Nice.

I'm not sure how to interpret this.

2010-03-17T11:47:00.003-04:00

While donating my $5 to "dress casual for charity" at work today, the coworker collecting the money cheerfully chirped,"Thanks so much for donating, because I know you can dress down anytime you want, right?"

The answer to that is no, I cannot. Others in my department can, because of the work that they do, but I am expected to be "business casual" like every other desk worker in this place. So, am I just that much of a mess when I get dressed for work? I know I wear the same khaki/black work pant/sweater combo every day, but it's not sloppy, just boring. I've even started wearing earrings and necklaces almost every day! Sometimes there's even lipstick on my lips when I get to work, although I would never, ever reapply during the day as that would cut into my Burt's Bees addiction!

Things I won't do again.

2010-03-15T10:15:00.003-04:00

1. Sew this McCall's pattern. I'm trashing it. Maybe it was the $1 a yard knit that I used, or maybe it's just heinous. I tried to do the version that is shown in red. Ugh. It came out super horrible, like it was a reject from a Wham video costume designer.

2. Drink the beverage known as the three R's at Farmicia. It supposedly contained Root Liquor, Rye, Ginger Ale, and was served over rocks in a glass with fruit. I was expecting a little rocks glass drink. Nope, it came in a giant coke glass. I finished it. I do not remember the ride home from the restaurant. Apparently I told my husband that he was not a nice person. I also could barely taste the Root part, which was the appealing part of the beverage when I read the description. I'll have to get a bottle to try in other ways.

3. Eat too much spinach. I am a mostly vegetarian gal. Thus, I live on mostly vegetables. You know what sucks? When vegetables make you feel like you are going to puke. Some fruits do this to me too. Currently on my list: zucchini, yellow squash, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon. I had to add spinach last night. I put it on a sandwich (with some veggie chicken, garlic, tomatoes and provolone) and was rudely awakened around midnight with a need to lay on the bathroom floor and feel like I was going to die. This has happened before with spinach, I was just in denial.

I'm on a roll.

2010-03-15T07:58:00.002-04:00

Got myself some new Gingher scissors this weekend. They were a total impulse buy. I went to Joann for some sewing needles and interfacing and they magically appeared in my hand at the register. They are, in a word, amazing.

Started working on the Colette Sencha top. I'm using a cheap synthetic silk that I got at Joann to see how it comes out.

Performed up to my quality control representative's lofty standards. Why is it that as soon as I lay out fabric and a pattern, Rocky decides he needs to be right on top of me?

Yes, this is acceptable.

My list of good stuff from the weekend.

2010-03-08T08:40:00.004-05:00

1. Seeing Jaime for the first time since January. We communicate almost every day via email/facebook/twitter, but there is nothing like a face to face chat.
2. Kidnapping Jaime and visiting the NE Philly fabric mecca Jomar, having my fabric cut ($1 per yard knits), waiting in line behind rejects from Maury Povich, only to find out that the registers were down and we couldn't buy anything. I'm calling this a good thing, because the experience was worth it. I am detoxing and sanitizing my skin before my next visit. I want my army green knit dammit! I will be back.
3. Birthday presents from Jaime! Built by Wendy Dresses and One Yard Wonders. I am a little intimidated by the dress book, but in a good way.
4. A really awesome Nightmare Before Christmas mug, also from Jaime and family. I must photograph it, because it does not exist online. I'm debating whether to use it or to display it near my other coveted skull items.
5. Fabulous weekend meals and time spent with my husband, who has been spending the work week in Baltimore. I miss him when he's away.
6. Had an idea for a skirt, whipped it up in about an hour, without using a pattern. Will upload pics once I fix my computer mouse tonight! Edited: See, here it is!

7. Fabulous spring like weather for the first time in months! I'm looking forward to riding my bike and riding my Vespa!

Houseguests = Weight Loss Challenge Fail

2010-03-02T10:13:00.002-05:00

I'm pretty sure that I ate out for almost every dinner last week. That's what happens when CPM and I have house guests. I get all excited, and intend to cook lavish meals, and then the spouse decides that we have to visit various local eateries to showcase the cuisine of the greater Philadelphia area.

Restaurants visited during the course of the week:

Farmicia
White Elephant
Ooka
Cantina los Caballitos
Cantina dos Segundos
Philly Soft Pretzel Factory

Yep, just doing our part to keep the local economy afloat.

CPM is away for work this week. I have several dates with Lean Cuisine, Smart Ones, and Billy Banks' Full Body Blast!

See? Pictures, as promised.

2010-02-23T19:36:00.003-05:00

Firstly, eat brunch at Farmicia. You will be glad that you did.

Tofu Scramble with Vegan Chorizo

Eggs Benedict with Veggie Sausage

Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon

Then, come back to my place and eat some cake. The gladness will continue.

This dog certainly wishes he could have some cake. Alas, Ollie, you may not have chocolate lest you die. You may only look and drool.

Amen...

2010-02-22T08:47:00.003-05:00

First, amen to this post on Passive Aggressive Notes. Do not park in the spot that your neighbor shovels out. This should be the first commandment.

Second, my birthday was this past weekend. CPM and I had house guests all weekend (actually, we pretty much have house guests all of this week, as None More Black prepares for an upcoming weekend assault on various locales). I made myself a delicious cake (modeled after this one). CPM and company took me to dinner--Blue Sage, naturally, our celebration restaurant of choice. He got me a flash for my DSLR (side note: great, something else I have to learn to use properly). Horsebites drew me a picture. We had brunch at Farmicia on Sunday. Then, I made my famous Seitan Pot Roast for dinner. Yeah, that's exactly how you want to begin the week you are participating in a weight loss challenge.

I couldn't get near my computer to upload any of my pictures because band practice took over the basement for the entire weekend.

Third, a note to the neighborhood kid who was circling my block on a quad ATV on Saturday morning at approximately 5am: I will find you. And when I do, I will knock on your door to tell your parents about your escapade. Hopefully, they will care enough to knock some sense into your idiotic brain. Unfortunately, I have this feeling that they will not give one shit.

You've already seen a million shots of snow.

2010-02-13T08:49:00.003-05:00

So what? Here are some of mine. In them, you can see the challenge of parking in a snow covered neighborhood in NE Philadelphia. You see, there are rules. Once you dig out a spot on the street, it is YOURS. You claim the spot by leaving a trash can or a chair in it when you leave. And woe betide those who forget to make this important mark (as we forgot to do one evening this week). The spot that you dug after the first Snowpocalypse (20 plus inches), will most certainly be claimed by an asshole of a neighbor, forcing you to park in a spot still covered in the first storm's snow. This means you spent the day after Snowpocalypse 2.0 digging over 30 inches of snow from around your vehicle. Then, to add insult to injury, your asshole of a neighbor will drag their own trash can to the spot in front of your house. I've been fantasizing about dumping all of the excess sidewalk snow onto their car for days. But I won't do that. I'll just quietly stew and send dirty looks their way whenever I see them.

Snowpocalypse 1.0

Snowpocalypse 2.0

My poor puppies have to swim through snow in order to pee.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, I got a new tattoo. It is awesome. It is a gift from my wonderful husband for my upcoming birthday. I basically said to the artist (Mr. Jason Goldberg, Olde City Tattoo), "I want a stake through a heart, with some blood." Yeah, I'd want to punch me too for that extra clear direction. I think he did a wonderful job.

Yes, it hurt. If you want to have a twenty minute conversation about the pain, drop me a line. There were moments that I thought I was going to lose it. And then, ten minutes after I was done, I was planning my next tattoo. Go figure.

Blarg

2010-02-08T07:55:00.003-05:00

This weekend...

Twenty-eight inches of snow fell into my life. It was clearly uninvited. Did I use the enforced house bound time to my advantage, by say, preparing my taxes or beginning a quilt? Nope. I slept late, did laundry, shoveled out, took care of a friend's cats, and basically vegetated. On the day following the snow, I food shopped, pet food shopped (whoops, ran out of dog food during the storm, so they ate eggs), and took my niece out birthday shopping. I also almost got into a fist fight over a parking space. I really miss Hawaii.

This weekend...

CPM and I used the excuse of the Superbowl (which we care nothing about) to go to the movies. We haven't been to a movie in a theater in almost two years. We decided to see Avatar. I'm writing a complaint letter to James Cameron today in hopes of getting my nineteen dollars back. The special effects were incredible. The plot was lazy (oooh big bad company invades paradise to plunder it of its natural resources, the natives rise up and beat the bad guy) and there weren't any characters of note...no one to get really emotionally invested in, unless you count the moments where you root for the bad guy just to break up the monotony of boredom. I feel vindicated now for never seeing Titanic.

Vacation Redux

2010-02-02T13:24:00.004-05:00

I've been home from Hawaii for several days now, and I know I owe the two people who read this blog some sort of vacation recap.

I'll admit that the first two days that we were home, I was quite miserable. It was sunny and 80 degrees every day on Oahu, give or take a shower on the Windward side here and there. When we arrived in Philly, the thermometer was barely registering 20. Once home, we faced chores, minor plumbing repairs, food shopping, bills to pay, and jobs to return to. On vacation, we had leisurely breakfasts, relaxing walks, delicious warmth and sunshine, fabulous dinners, beach time, pool time, house hunting forays, whale watching, hiking, sleeping, dreaming, etc. I know, vacation is supposed to be awesome, but somehow this trip was extra awesome.

I was trying to compose a top ten moments list, but I got overwhelmed. I took a lot of pictures, deleted many that I hated, and saved a few. The full set of what I took with the "big" camera are here. I have yet to take the few gems off of my iPhone. Of particular note in that collection will be the shot of the lady in the thong that I grabbed for CPM's enjoyment. Yes, I look at ladies butts. How can I not when they are on display like that? As I tweeted one morning, going to the beach is like hanging out with strangers in your underpants.

Here are few favorite moments and stuff...

The rooster at Waimea Valley

The peacocks at Waimea Valley

Okay, Waimea Valley was just awesome all around

By chance, seeing a friend marching in the MLK parade--something told me to head out onto our lanai at just the right moment...

Hare Krishna

Coffee and Dessert at Honolulu Coffee Company

Dinner at Arancino (every other night)

Sunsets

Beachtime

Boat Rides

Breakfast at The Cream Pot

Huli Huli Chicken

2010-01-20T03:08:00.004-05:00

I'm popping in from my latest Hawaiian vacation to share my favorite photo so far. People probably think I'm strange chasing the wild chickens around with my camera. I think to the locals, they're as common as squirrels are to those of us from Philly.

For the next week or so, CPM and I will be absorbing as much sunshine as we can. Too soon, we will be returning to the dreary northeastern winter.

Aloha.

Artsy Fartsy

2010-01-12T12:49:00.002-05:00

CPM and I have lived in our house for ten years. Only recently have we begun to actually put things on the walls. Mostly, we are displaying vacation photos that I've blown up and framed.

We have a few prints of original art. One is by the talented Horsebites. Two others I purchased for CPM from an artist named Nik Scarlett.

We've now added another two pieces, purchased at an art show held at the Toothless Cat gallery in Philly. The artist is Leila Marvel. We got prints of two pieces from this collection. There were other creepy prints that we liked by other artists at the show, but the two that we bought were the only ones that we could agree didn't creep us out so much that we'd be afraid to pass them as they hung on the walls.

Here's one of them. The other isn't showing on the Leila's flickr page, but we plan on framing them and hanging them side by side.

Vacation's Afoot!

2010-01-11T09:10:00.004-05:00

Internet, do you know what can happen to you when you get old? You might develop foot problems (possibly due to years of walking the city streets in whatever unsupportive footwear suited your fancy). You might get a podiatrist. You might spend a fortune on custom orthotics that are not covered by your insurance company because they are considered "cosmetic." (Note to insurers: cosmetic? Really? My feet are still ugly. But my sciatic pain is gone. And I've postponed surgery to correct the pain and deformities in my feet for years by wearing them. Idiots.)

Note that custom orthotics only fit in certain shoes, like sneakers, where you can remove the foot bed. Also note that sneakers are not my idea of fashionable tropical vacation footwear. Yes, I'm vain. I don't want to accessorize my sundresses with my New Balance. Sue me. Rather, don't sue me, because I will be spending all of my money looking for the "perfect" tropical vacation footwear.

The last time we went on a long trip to Hawaii where I knew that I would be walking a lot, I kind of ignored the needs of my feet. I traipsed all over Waikiki in a pair of Havianas flip flops. And I almost broke my left foot. Literally. One more day of doing miles in my flip flops, and my post vacation home time would have found me in an air cast, healing a stress fracture or two. Nice. I can not afford to be that stupid again.

So, I'm trying a different approach: a Merrell sandal that is a teensy bit supportive (hence, kind of fugly). In photos, it looks a little heinous. See...

I tried one on in the store, though, and it wasn't so bad looking. The reviews on Zappos are good. I'm giving it a shot. I'm also trying a pair of Skechers as my "evening wear" walking shoe. I think I might be able to squeeze my Powerstep inserts into these babies if necessary. Woohoo, sexy!

I have issues.

Maybe I'm Just Hopped Up on Caffeine.

2010-01-07T09:40:00.007-05:00

I don't drink caffeine, for the record. I cut it out cold turkey a few years back when I was having mysterious pains in my side that were thought to be kidney related and turned out to be...nothing. That took a lot of expensive, invasive medical tests and many, many copays to discover. (Side note: acupuncture, you work, yay!)

If you want to cause some suffering in your life, cut out caffeine cold turkey. Day 1 is fine, you're just a little sleepy. On Day 2, you realize that maybe you should have gone the "half caf/half decaf" weaning route, because the withdrawal headache and accompanying soul crushing fatigue feels worse than any flu. By Day 3, you are starting to come out of the trenches, and on day 4, liberation! If you're going cold turkey, do it over a long holiday weekend, when you have only your family to make miserable with you.

I do drink decaf (not everyday), because I like the taste of coffee. Some weeks (like this one), an iced Dunkin Decaf (cream, 3 Truvia), is what I need to convince myself going to work is a good idea. I only get one on the ride in.

Anyhoo, none of that is related to this post.

I'm excited! I bought myself my birthday present from CPM yesterday. Yes, my birthday is still 44 days away. But my vacation is 9 days away. And my present will come in handy...I upgraded my DSLR!

I'm sticking with Olympus. After four days of research, including the creation of an actual spreadsheet, I've decided that I like my Olympus E500 (last year's present) enough to simply upgrade to the E620.

I also got a new lens. I'm adding the Olympus 18-180 mm lens to my arsenal of glass. The kit lenses that come with the camera are great, but I learned a valuable DSLR lesson on a previous trip...when I'm on vacation, I do not feel like lugging my camera bag around with me on walks so that I can change lenses. I want to toss my camera in my purse and go. Having any Olympus makes this pretty easy, since their four-thirds system means that their cameras are a bit smaller than those made by Canon/Nikon.

I'm no professional. I'm just an amateur who wants to occasionally print out one of my shots, or take shots that are blog-worthy. Over the past year, I've taken one or two photos that make me really happy. Unfortunately, most times I treat the DSLR like a big point and shoot, giving no serious thought to composition, lighting, etc. I stick to aperture-priority shooting most of the time (as if I know what I'm doing), and mostly, I use the 50mm lens that I bought several months back. I'll never be a pro, and I'm okay with that. I just don't have the time in my life. I'm okay with photographic mediocrity. Once in a while, I get "the" shot.

Oh, it's a new year or something?

2010-01-05T11:54:00.003-05:00

Bloggers all over the internet entertained me with their Best of 2009 lists and their 2010 Resolution lists. Did I make a "Best of" list? No. Do I do resolutions? No. Well, maybe, sort of. But do you really want to hear about my resolve to be more selfish this year? I didn't think so.

Here's what's going on in the Broomcakes universe...

Jaime and I started a new blog. We're going to make dinner for each other, eat dinner together, and write about it. It will be fun, delicious, and will threaten my weight loss goals. Here's a sample of a dish I made for our first dinner, stuffed mushrooms. (I go to The Pioneer Woman a lot when I need "party food.")

My husband has been getting tattooed. A lot. So much tattooing has occurred that he can now tell you how exactly to get your tattoo to heal perfectly. (Coat it in antibiotic ointment and wrap it in plastic wrap for the first three nights before bed, then apply lotion by the gallon for a week or so.) Yes, I have a roll of plastic wrap in the bedroom now.

I've been sewing stuff, mostly wasting time by making clothes that I will never wear. I either need to start making some knit wear, or become a quilter. I'm on the fence right now about what direction to take my sewing into...

Upcoming madness in my life: thank you to the Days Until app on my iPhone for this information...

I am 11 days away from another trip to Hawaii. Aloha, bitches. You can take this 29 degree weather and shove it somewhere. I'm going to where it's 80 degrees every day, and mai tais are mandatory lunch accompaniments. (Dear internet robbers, my house will be occupied by three large black dogs, one ornery cat, and their human care providers. Sorry, you just can't have my collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs.)

I am 36 days from my tattoo appointment. I'm actually looking forward to the pain. That's sick.

I am 46 days from turning 33. I like being in my thirties.

Xmas Eve Equals Quiche

2009-12-29T17:27:00.003-05:00

For a few years early in our relationship, CPM and I would spend Xmas eve with his side of the family. His aunt always made quiche. Now, we practice a form of "pretend Xmas is not happening" while together, and I give gifts to our nieces and nephews who are still too young to understand our form of Scroogedom. I still miss the Xmas eve quiche.

Thus, this past Xmas eve, I was searching the interwebz for a quiche recipe. I wanted it to be cheesy and mushroomy. I found a couple that looked promising, then decided to just wing it. Did I take a picture of the finished product? Nope. Because we didn't get to eat the darn quiche on Xmas eve. My beloved spouse is frequently called to perform "emergency heating service calls." Which means he got home too late, and I was already gone to celebrate Xmas with my side of the family. The finished quiche sat in the fridge for 3 days until we had a chance to eat it. It was still terrific. Here's what I did.

Ingredients:
1 pie crust (I make my own, feel free to use a refrigerated version)
2 8oz packages of mushrooms, sliced (wild, portabella, whatever)
Some oil of some kind to saute stuff in
1 medium onion, diced
1 package of tempeh bacon, chopped
1 10oz package of frozen spinach, thawed in microwave
4 oz goat cheese
5 eggs
1/4 cup half and half
3/4 cup greek yogurt
A sprinkle of parmigiano regianno/romano/some other stinky cheese
salt/pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place pie crust in deep dish pie pan. Crimp edges, then refrigerate crust while you cook up the rest of the ingredients.

Saute mushrooms, onions, and tempeh bacon in a pan until the mushrooms have become soft. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Thaw the spinach in the microwave and squeeze the water out.

In a big bowl, whisk together the eggs, half and half, and greek yogurt. This mixture will have a thick, custardy texture.

Get the pie crust from the fridge. Dump the mushroom/bacon/onion mixture in the bottom of the pie pan.

Spread the goat cheese over this layer.

Spread the spinach over the goat cheese.

Pour the egg mixture over everything.

Sprinkle the stinky cheese of your choice on the top.

Bake uncovered in the oven for 40 minutes or until the egg has set.

I can attest that this lasted really well in the fridge for several days. To reheat, I put it in a 350 degree oven for an hour. I served it with mashed sweet potatoes.

Oh the drama.

2009-12-22T09:03:00.005-05:00

As much as I appreciate my life suddenly becoming "blog worthy," I could do without all of the personal drama.

Somehow I misplaced my keys yesterday...both car and house. After looking in all of the usual places (various surfaces throughout the house) and the unusual places (refrigerator, trash cans, cupboards, etc.), I can only postulate that I dropped them outside. This means that:

a. Keys are buried underneath a four foot high snow drift in my yard, and will reappear sometime in the spring.

b. Keys were dropped right outside my back door and have been retrieved by the helpful people who have been breaking into cars and garages in the neighborhood lately.

CPM is spending the morning changing all of the locks on the house and I'm taking our car to the dealer to be reprogrammed. Great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend that Amex gift card that I got yesterday.

Edited later: I am an asshole. The whole time we were freaking out, the keys were sitting on a kitchen chair that was pushed under the kitchen table. They must have slid off the table during my morning prep routine of piling shit there as I get ready to leave. Thankfully, CPM was able to return all of the new locks that he purchased, and I canceled my reprogramming appointment. Let this be a lesson to me: I should not combine a full dose of Benadryl with a full dose of cough syrup, no matter how badly I am coughing at night.

It's Snowing. I'm Sewing.

2009-12-19T16:00:00.004-05:00

I owe this blog to Jaime. Last night was supposed to be her Mad Men themed holiday cookie exchange. Unfortunately, her little girl came down with a stomach plague earlier in the week, necessitating the postponement of the one holiday party I actually look forward to attending. Boo, stomach germs! Boo, puking. Boo!

As part of the party, invitees were instructed to come dressed in clothing inspired by Mad Men. I decided that this meant I should make something. I found someone's entry on the Sew Retro Blog and admired the dress made with Simplicity 3673. So, I decided to try it.

I used some suiting fabric that I had in my stash (leftover from when my mother in law worked for Jones New York...she had an unending supply of designer fabric remnants). I lined the top with leftover pieces of an Ikea Gaspa sheet (very silky smooth, and easier to work with than normal lining). I really should have lined the whole thing, to cover all the unfinished seams (don't have a serger yet), but the dress has 8 darts. That would have meant sewing all 8 darts twice. No thank you. I'm all about instant gratification and being lazy whenever possible.

Altogether, I spent several evenings working on the dress. I've learned that more complicated patterns are better split up in this way. I make fewer mistakes and am way more careful. There are still a few wonky points, but thanks to the super black fabric, you don't really notice them all that much.

A self portrait would be nice, but thanks to crappy winter lighting and a broken tripod, you get this:

Rest assured, it fits rather well. Well done, me!

I spent this morning in my PJs, alternately sweeping up snow from my front steps (hello to the blizzard of 2009), playing with my dogs in the snowy yard, and working on another version of Simplicity 3835, the Built by Wendy top/tunic that everyone in the world of sewing has made at one time or another. I myself have made two other versions. This time, I decided that I wanted a casual bathing suit cover-up for my upcoming trip to Hawaii, so I went with the tunic length, but used the elastic neck instead of the zip up back. This meant that I was able to omit the center back seam, and just cut the back piece on the fold, which was nice, because I used a striped Kaffe Fasset cotton, and matching lines would have been irritating.

I experimented for the first time with french seams on this project (again, no serger for seam clean up). I used this tutorial. They were super easy, and look very nice.

Still, the neck elastic casing is a little messy, and I think I may have twisted the elastic during insertion, but eh, I'm only wearing this to the beach. It doesn't look too bad. It's very muumuuish, which is appropriate for Hawaii.

I have plans to make another version of this in a different print. Maybe later tonight, between shoveling snow and eating these cookies that I made.