Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
A Silver Lining
Dominos now delivers in our area--and they have a spiffy on-line interface that obviates even a phone call!
Missing Dave
It is the middle of the morning and I'm in the studio looking at the mess that is my desk. I should be working. I should be firing, and sorting papers, and, and, and... But I just instant-messaged my spouse to share a funny with him, and it hit home that I won't see him tonight, or tomorrow, or at all for two more weeks. Two weeks isn't so long, I know. But it's already been 100 and a half hours since I saw him. 6,035 minutes since I hugged him. 362,100 seconds since he kissed me goodbye in the hotel parking lot in Dallas and headed off in his Mini Cooper for Austin.
The things that I was so afraid were going to be impossible have been almost trivially easy--thanks in large part to Jessie, my very helpful little angel. I am on top of all the tasks I normally manage--my business, the tax papers, the finances, etc.,--and I have neatly folded in the groceries, the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, and the care and feeding of the J (including nightly reading, baths and transporting to and from school). I even have playdates and sleepovers planned.
But the things I thought I could handle--the temporary separation, the sleeping and waking alone--those have been really tough. The days are not so bad. J and I follow a schedule (how else would we get everything done?), we do our chores, we share life and cuddle. But at night, when I sleep, my non-rational mind takes over. It rears up and cries, "Why can't I have my spouse snuggled next to me?" And I dream dreams of loss. I need to stop listening to my melancholy playlist (these are the songs that were playing as I wrote this post), put on my big girl panties, and just deal with it. But he should know how much I miss him.
The things that I was so afraid were going to be impossible have been almost trivially easy--thanks in large part to Jessie, my very helpful little angel. I am on top of all the tasks I normally manage--my business, the tax papers, the finances, etc.,--and I have neatly folded in the groceries, the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, and the care and feeding of the J (including nightly reading, baths and transporting to and from school). I even have playdates and sleepovers planned.
But the things I thought I could handle--the temporary separation, the sleeping and waking alone--those have been really tough. The days are not so bad. J and I follow a schedule (how else would we get everything done?), we do our chores, we share life and cuddle. But at night, when I sleep, my non-rational mind takes over. It rears up and cries, "Why can't I have my spouse snuggled next to me?" And I dream dreams of loss. I need to stop listening to my melancholy playlist (these are the songs that were playing as I wrote this post), put on my big girl panties, and just deal with it. But he should know how much I miss him.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Get Yer Samoas! Get Yer Thin Mints! Get Yer Do-Si-Dos!
The first annual Jessie Griffith Girl Scout Cookie sell-a-thon has begun! We have more boxes than she is tall so pull out those wallets. I went the extra mile today for her (okay, so I indulged my obsession with Internet technologies) and I created a Google Docs spreadsheet (a spreadsheet shared between Dave and me that lives in our private space on the web) to track her cookies and sales. Then I put the iPhone application for Google (which includes Google docs) on my iPhone and now I can pull up the spreadsheet wherever I am to see the address and phone number of the person I am delivering too, and I can also see--and update--how many boxes we have left in each kind. It was too much fun (and I am such a geek!).But enough about technology. This is all about our little Daisy (pre-pre-Girl Scout) and her cookies! Without further ado, I present This Year's Cookies! My personal favorite is the Samoa. You can't go wrong with Samoas, I always say. The Girl Scouts say:
Samoas®: These are round doughnut-shaped cookies about two inches in diameter with a hole in the center, covered in caramel and toasted coconut, and then striped with chocolate. Samoas® are made by Little Brownie Bakers.
Thin Mints: The most enduring and universally familiar Girl Scout cookie. These round, mint-flavored cookies covered with dark chocolate perennially sell the most boxes of any cookie. Thin Mints have never changed their name. Little Brownie Bakers and ABC Bakers both make Thin Mints.
Do-Si-Dos®: A sandwich cookie. The round, bumpy perforated oatmeal cookie top and bottom surrounds a peanut butter-flavored layer inside. Do-Si-Dos® (formerly Gauchos) are baked by Little Brownie Bakers.
Trefoils: These shortbread cookies are shaped like the Girl Scout Trefoil design. Scot Teas were a similar, lighter sugar cookie made by the now defunct Burry. These cookies come in a blue box. Little Brownie Bakers calls them Trefoils.
Tagalongs®: These are round cookies with a layer of peanut butter on top, and covered in chocolate. These cookies come in a red box. Little Brownie Bakers calls them Tagalongs®.
Lemon Chalet Cremes™: Featuring a design of Our Chalet in Switzerland, a beloved Girl Scout World Center, this sandwich cookie has a touch of cinnamon-ginger spice that evokes the warmth of a fireside chat on a snowy evening; they are made by Little Brownie Bakers.
Dulce de Leche: New for 2009, and inspired by the classic confections of Latin America, these sweet, indulgent cookies are rich with milk caramel chips and stripes. They come in a turquoise box, and are made by Little Brownie Bakers.Get Yer Lemon Chalet Cremes! Get Yer Dulce de Leche! Get Yer Tagalongs! Quick, before we eat them all...
Monday, March 02, 2009
Snow Day in the South
I post here first this morning instead of on Glass Incarnate. I post here first because my spouse informed me that it has been so long since I have posted on this blog that his RSS reader has greyed it out. Whatever. I also post here because we had friends in for the weekend, a southern family, and when we were talking about blogging I said the name of this one and the 14 year-old son asked me in a surprised voice, "You don't like the south?". I feel obliged to answer. After six years of not planning to remain here, I am settled in. With Dave exploring the vast sea of employment opportunities post-CNN, we have the option of living almost anywhere. In fact our options have opened up so much that Dave felt comfortable throwing down the gauntlet and saying if I want to move to Montana, we can do it now...
You see, when we were married--in Montana--he promised me that we would move there within eight years (we lived in Chicago at the time). Well, it's been 13-1/2 years now and I occasionally smugly throw out in the conversation that he still hasn't lived up to that promise. I did so in conversation in front of our friends over the weekend and he replied, "Why not now?"Why not now indeed. So I search my soul. What would I be giving up if we moved to Montana, or to Austin (where the jobs actually *are*). What would I be gaining (best case)? We never intended this house to be our forever home. Our forever home was the sprawling old mansion built in 1917 where we lived outside of Chicago. Then it was the large, airy Austintacious new house we built in the hill country next to a nature preserve and a green belt in Austin. But this house was the best choice in one day of house hunting after signing a contract at CNN and then finding out that the houses that we had looked at on the Internet from Austin were not at all the same in person and we couldn't afford *anything* like what we had there or imagined having here. But after six years here--considerably longer than we have spent in any one house--we have made this our home. It fits us, it is us, and we have no interest in moving to another house as this one is just right for our lifestyle now and into the future.
Then there's my studio. It's a perfect space for a studio, couldn't be better located, and we were able to afford it. What's the likelihood we would be able to find anything like what we have with the two properties combined in either Austin or Missoula? I have a better chance of being eaten by a shark the next time I go scuba diving.
Beyond property considerations there is all the quality of life I thought I was missing. Turns out, I was mistaken. We not only have friends and a community here, we also have a great school for Jessie. Though we are not geographically centrally located, Atlanta is one of the major airport hubs and we can get anywhere (except Hawaii or Australia--and how likely are we to need those routes now?) quickly and cheaply. And finally, the Indigo Girls had it right and there's no more beautiful place than the southland in the springtime.So we stay. I'd change the name of the blog to something like "Settled In the South" or "Snoozy In the South" or even "Seraphic In the South", but I like the reminder that life is all about change. That's not to say that I wouldn't like to have a house in Missoula someday, I still would. But I no longer need to, pine to, must.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Snowball Fight With Friends
Thanks to Keith and Stacy for joining us for our elf snowball fight!
Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
I Was a Fool
I should remember that true beauty has nothing to do with looks, and yet I am ashamed to admit that I underestimated because of a not perfect appearance. I was a fool.
Last Wednesday I baked Christmas cookies with Becky H. It was a very enjoyable day, but it was a considerable effort for both of us, and I frankly didn't think the end results would be worth it (we are not, after all, professional bakers). When all was done, out of the oven and divvied up into big ziploc bags, I basked in the glow of a nice day with a good friend, and figured that the people we gifted them to would appreciate them for our effort rather than for any intrinsic goodness. As has been noted, I was a fool.
Oh the recipients appreciate them alright, but not because of obligated regard for effort. They, and I, appreciate them because they are damn tasty! Store-bought cookies always lure me with their prettiness, but their taste never lives up to my expectations. The cookies we made--while a little more brown than we would have liked (the oven needs to be recalibrated and Dave has volunteered to step up to that plate)--burst with swirls of delicately complex flavor varying from a perfectly balanced key lime to a genuinely spicy gingerbread. The spritz butter cookies are awash with almond-infused butter. The peanut butter Hershey Kiss thumbprints have an underlying richness that the pretty store-bought peanut butter cookies never even approach. The Mexican wedding cakes are so chock-full of ground up pecans that their rich nut oil raises these little powdered sugar bombs from a dry, dusty cookie into the realm of the sublime. Even the anise crisps (I say "even" because I am not typically a friend of the anise), with their subtle aroma and bite provide a perfect finish as they round out the flavors of all the other cookies. Before really experiencing them I thought to myself that I should just have bought a bunch of Pepperidge Farm cookies, it would have been cheaper. Yes they would have been cheaper, but oh so not better. I was a fool.
Yesterday while I dressed the loom Dave finished the last batch I had not had time to make--Dave's Dreambars. The recipe is from a Christmas cookie book and really called "Dave's Dreambars". Maybe only someone name Dave could make them. My Dave's comment on them was that it was if space aliens had come down and put a monolith next to my grandmother's dreambars and they had evolved into a higher state of being. I think he means that they are damn tasty.
So, Becky, want to bake again next year?
Last Wednesday I baked Christmas cookies with Becky H. It was a very enjoyable day, but it was a considerable effort for both of us, and I frankly didn't think the end results would be worth it (we are not, after all, professional bakers). When all was done, out of the oven and divvied up into big ziploc bags, I basked in the glow of a nice day with a good friend, and figured that the people we gifted them to would appreciate them for our effort rather than for any intrinsic goodness. As has been noted, I was a fool.
Oh the recipients appreciate them alright, but not because of obligated regard for effort. They, and I, appreciate them because they are damn tasty! Store-bought cookies always lure me with their prettiness, but their taste never lives up to my expectations. The cookies we made--while a little more brown than we would have liked (the oven needs to be recalibrated and Dave has volunteered to step up to that plate)--burst with swirls of delicately complex flavor varying from a perfectly balanced key lime to a genuinely spicy gingerbread. The spritz butter cookies are awash with almond-infused butter. The peanut butter Hershey Kiss thumbprints have an underlying richness that the pretty store-bought peanut butter cookies never even approach. The Mexican wedding cakes are so chock-full of ground up pecans that their rich nut oil raises these little powdered sugar bombs from a dry, dusty cookie into the realm of the sublime. Even the anise crisps (I say "even" because I am not typically a friend of the anise), with their subtle aroma and bite provide a perfect finish as they round out the flavors of all the other cookies. Before really experiencing them I thought to myself that I should just have bought a bunch of Pepperidge Farm cookies, it would have been cheaper. Yes they would have been cheaper, but oh so not better. I was a fool.
Yesterday while I dressed the loom Dave finished the last batch I had not had time to make--Dave's Dreambars. The recipe is from a Christmas cookie book and really called "Dave's Dreambars". Maybe only someone name Dave could make them. My Dave's comment on them was that it was if space aliens had come down and put a monolith next to my grandmother's dreambars and they had evolved into a higher state of being. I think he means that they are damn tasty.
So, Becky, want to bake again next year?
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Just Freaky...
Okay, the weather is just plain freaky. I have been moaning and whining about how cold it's been here. Every day when I check the temps it's colder here than it is in Chicago, Missoula, Kalispell and Polson (the last three are in Montana for the northwest-challenged). I just looked at the weather, and it's 68 degrees here at 8:00 pm! That's the same temp it is in Los Angeles and a degree warmer than Phoenix--and it's three hours later at night here! I, of course, spent the day in two sweaters and a knitted scarf and wondered why I was sweating...
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Thanksgiving, No Longer Thankful
Ahh, it's been a weekend--and not the kind of wonderful, off-to-get-a-Christmas-tree, deck the halls kind of weekend I had hoped for either. It started off well enough with a lovely, relaxed, cooking-light Thanksgiving day (we had dinner at the house of some friends) and rapidly went downhill from there...
Thanksgiving night J took a fall at our friends' house and it looked like she might have sprained or broken her little toe. Nothing to do about it but wait for it to get better. Friday morning she woke with a cold and a fever, and between the foot and the cold, she stayed in bed or on the couch for the day. Saturday morning I woke to the remembrance that strep throat has been romping through J's class. When she still had a fever and a bad sore throat and couldn't put any weight on her foot, we decided to take her for medical help. At 11:10 am I called her doctor's office to see if their service had a clinic recommendation and was surprised to get not only a warm body on the line but also the news that if we could be at the office by 11:30 they would see us there as they're open till 12:00 on Saturday. We dressed, we raced, we made it. Then we waited. And waited.
We finally saw a nurse practitioner who confirmed that J did have strep throat and who further said that she might have a fracture in the growth plate in her foot so we had to go in for x-rays. Off we went to Eggleston to wait some more. At 3:00 we got the welcome news that J did not have a broken foot (so no cast and no crutches). As we happily headed down the hall of the hospital--visions of Christmas-tree-shopping dancing in my head--J gave me one frantic look and threw up all over her father (who was carrying her). Oh boy. Got home and found out that a stomach bug had ravaged the house of the friends we had had Thanksgiving dinner with, and Mom and both kids were throwing up all Friday.
J showing us the contents of her stomach lasted through late evening, by which time I was starting to feel queasy too. Today J and I are both laid low, though we have so far mostly managed to keep down what has gone down. I now drag myself back to bed--after a little chicken noodle soup provided by the very patient and nurturing (and still healthy) spouse. Happy Holidays everyone!
Thanksgiving night J took a fall at our friends' house and it looked like she might have sprained or broken her little toe. Nothing to do about it but wait for it to get better. Friday morning she woke with a cold and a fever, and between the foot and the cold, she stayed in bed or on the couch for the day. Saturday morning I woke to the remembrance that strep throat has been romping through J's class. When she still had a fever and a bad sore throat and couldn't put any weight on her foot, we decided to take her for medical help. At 11:10 am I called her doctor's office to see if their service had a clinic recommendation and was surprised to get not only a warm body on the line but also the news that if we could be at the office by 11:30 they would see us there as they're open till 12:00 on Saturday. We dressed, we raced, we made it. Then we waited. And waited.
We finally saw a nurse practitioner who confirmed that J did have strep throat and who further said that she might have a fracture in the growth plate in her foot so we had to go in for x-rays. Off we went to Eggleston to wait some more. At 3:00 we got the welcome news that J did not have a broken foot (so no cast and no crutches). As we happily headed down the hall of the hospital--visions of Christmas-tree-shopping dancing in my head--J gave me one frantic look and threw up all over her father (who was carrying her). Oh boy. Got home and found out that a stomach bug had ravaged the house of the friends we had had Thanksgiving dinner with, and Mom and both kids were throwing up all Friday.
J showing us the contents of her stomach lasted through late evening, by which time I was starting to feel queasy too. Today J and I are both laid low, though we have so far mostly managed to keep down what has gone down. I now drag myself back to bed--after a little chicken noodle soup provided by the very patient and nurturing (and still healthy) spouse. Happy Holidays everyone!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
What Is Your Name Fairy?
I think seven is the perfect age. Of course I thought four was the perfect age too, but I was wrong. It's seven. The blossoming reasoning power combined with the perpetual wonder and belief in magic of the seven year-old make all the tired, wretched, frustrating trivialities of the adult day melt away.Last night, just out of the shower after a long two hours at her school's holiday artist market, Jessie asked if she could please, please do something before bed. When I asked what, she solemnly told me that Ethan had told her that if you write "What is your name, fairy?" on a piece of paper and put it out in your yard with some crumbled bread, a fairy will come in the night and write her name and leave you a crystal. She added that you could do this the first time any night, but on subsequent times you had to do it on the night of the full moon...
I believe the fairy did write her name, but the rain washed it away. J will have to try again on December 12. Her father and I will have to stock up on crystals.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
262 Days... And Counting
Got the invitation for my 30th year high school reunion this morning, RSVP'd, and am heading for the treadmill. Guess there's no longer any doubt that I am an average American woman over the age of 40.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Dinner on Sunday...
I just couldn't break my streak today. Time for dinner and I decided to go for the easy out of the ballpark hit of fish sticks, tater tots, french fries and canned spinach. My mother-in-law called as I was preparing my culinary masterpiece and she joked (having read my blog today) that she had better let me get off the phone so I didn't burn the dinner. Mwah hah hah hah. How could I burn fish sticks?!? I used a guaranteed accurate timer, and turned it off the second it went off. I also turned off the oven. And then I went on with microwaving spinach, directing the J to set the table, and various other things... and I forgot to take the dinner out of the oven for several more crispy minutes.
The highlight of dinner came when J picked up her first fish stick, turned it over, looked at the black part and said "This looks like asphalt." She was quick to add that she was sure it didn't taste like asphalt, but she later asked if she had to eat the black part because she didn't like it...
All I can say is I am saved again by the white wine. Dave, come home to me! How many hours left till CNN lets him go? 63?
The highlight of dinner came when J picked up her first fish stick, turned it over, looked at the black part and said "This looks like asphalt." She was quick to add that she was sure it didn't taste like asphalt, but she later asked if she had to eat the black part because she didn't like it...All I can say is I am saved again by the white wine. Dave, come home to me! How many hours left till CNN lets him go? 63?
My Favorite Day
It's my favorite day of the year, the day when I get an extra hour of sleep on a Sunday morning. Sadly my spouse had to head off to work (only two more days till the election!) so I was snuggling in alone. It's a good day for someone else too--Happy Birthday Stacy! (see you for champagne on Tuesday :-).My mother is still visiting so Dave bought a tube of orange rolls for us to have fresh hot pastry for breakfast this weekend. Yes, I realize there are some reading this post who do not consider pastry from a tube to be either pastry or fresh even when hot, but it is a delicacy in our household and a special treat. Today I saddled up and moseyed to the kitchen with the J (who always helps her father make the weekend morning orange rolls when we have them) to bake a batch.
As I preheated the oven, got out the baking stone and started to peel open the tube J looked at me dubiously and asked if I was sure I knew how to make them... What does it say about one's perceived cooking abilities when one's child questions one's qualifications to bake tubed pastry?!?I burned them. They were practically inedible (for the purists in the audience they were more inedible than usual). *Sigh* I can't wait till Dave is back home and reigning in the kitchen. Mom and I had Halloween candy and sauvignon blanc for dinner last night, J had peanut butter and jelly--she had chicken (fingers and fries) for lunch so she had at least one good meal in the day.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Howling... Squared
As I was catching up on the happenings in my world this morning, emergency vehicles went by on the busy street around the corner from our house. Emergency vehicles screaming by, sirens blaring, is not an uncommon happening at our house. Neither is the response of the dogs. Sadly, I was only able to catch Seraph on film this morning during the second round of sirens--Baxter was very vocal for the first round, but he sat out on the second. There is a reason deerhounds are classifieds in same family as blood hounds and other hunting hounds...
As is the case with most if not all video filmed, editing was needed. As I sat editing, Seraph decided to accompany. Notice in the last couple notes of accompaniment how much she resembles Chewbacca in sound and face. Think George Lucas had a deerhound?
As is the case with most if not all video filmed, editing was needed. As I sat editing, Seraph decided to accompany. Notice in the last couple notes of accompaniment how much she resembles Chewbacca in sound and face. Think George Lucas had a deerhound?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
And I Am a...
Your true political self:You are a
Social Liberal
(76% permissive)
and an...
Economic Moderate
(41% permissive)
You are best described as a:
Democrat
You exhibit a very well-developed sense of Right and Wrong and believe in economic fairness.
Explanation Of Results
"We wanted to get beyond the two catch-alls of American politics, the Democratic and Republican parties, and see where people actually stand. Parties can bring together people with marginally differing values and make collective action easier. But party platforms can misrepresent their constituents, and blind loyalty to a party can convince individuals to harbor inconsistent views.The goal of this test was to exactly classify your personal politics, without the traditional labels. We avoided the edgy party issues and focused on fundamental values. Your score is a measure of what you believe in, economically and socially.
Higher permissiveness, on either axis, indicates a "live and let live" philosophy. Of course, we're almost conditioned in America, "Land of the Free", to think positively of such a philosophy. But practically speaking, permissiviness (or its opposite, regulation) can create any number of outcomes:For example, on the economic axis, a highly permissive system, like the American system of the early 1900s, might mean things like low taxes and increased scientific innovation. It might also result, as it did back then, in unrestricted child labor and millions of poor people with black lung.
At the other end of the economic spectrum, a highly regulated system might conserve the environment, establish national health care, and eliminate poverty. But as we've learned from the Soviet system, extreme regulation can also lead to stagnation, sameness, and unhappiness.
If you liked the test, forward it. Thanks for participating."
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