What We've Been Up To

I know, I know, I take long absences from blogging. It is only because I get up in my own little world having a good time. Recently, we've been snowed in, driving on ice, working, driving in snow, doing the dishes every night, and celebrating Jordan's good news. (I'll give you a hint, he is going to make me call him "doctor" from now on).

It's been rather lovely around here because I've discovered that I really like the winter. I was a bit afraid when we moved up here that my glamorized childhood memory of winter would soon be shattered by reality. Luckily for me I live in my own little world, which I already mentioned. The fresh crisp air is so refreshing to walk around in, and as long as its cold it may as well snow! Maybe I won't have this chipper attitude by the time the end of March rolls around and we are still getting it, but in the meantime I am satisfied.

Also, I'm so proud of myself because I set three goals for me to accomplish for two weeks. They are as follows: 1) If not after every meal, do the dishes more often, 2) Make sure we both have lunch for the following day so that we are not tempted to go out to eat, and 3) Do not drink 18 glasses of wine every night. It has been two weeks and I've accomplished all three! With Jordan's help we have been keeping the counter clean, which prompts me to cook more often, which means leftovers for lunch, and some serious self-control with the wine drinking while I am cooking.

There is one wrench in my plan...Tuesday. Tuesday is such an awful day I have a hard time wanting to do anything but complain and go visit Grant, our favorite bartender, and have him give me happy hour appetizers instead of cooking. Tomorrow is Tuesday, so lets see if I can tame the almost-mid-week blues and my severe and all encompassing road rage in order to keep up my good work!

Chuckle

Other than mustaches, this gives me a giggle.

Why is facial hair so amusing?

Just a Phase

Yes, I'm going through a mustache phase right now. It makes me giggly.

Holiday Baking Part II

Whew, this is just a little sneak peak at the rest of our baking session.




Oh dear, it got more messy by the minute.




Jordan was so helpful when it came to rolling out and frosting sugar cookies.





We made snowflakes.





And we made Christmas trees.




Then I made homemade marshmallows!







Then Erma helped us wrap presents.




But she did not help us clean up the kitchen.

Holiday Baking

I love the holidays. As I get older I still love receiving gifts, but giving gifts is becoming more stressful with each passing year. What does one do in this situation? Bake! To the people that know accomplished bakers this is a welcome gift, but to the people that know me...beware!

Today I made about 11 trips down the baking aisle at the grocery store looking for items that I had never purchased before, such as peppermint extract and unflavored gelatin. I also witnessed a woman break a bag of sugar and leave it leaking on the floor while she scurried away, then when one of the store employees walked by and tried to pick up the spilling bag I felt really guilty even though I didn't do it. While I was shopping I somehow convinced that boy that I like to clean up the kitchen. He even organized one of the cabinets to make room for the 16 pounds of sugar and nuts I bought (I knew I liked him for a reason)!

I came home and declared the kitchen table as my own. It is where I have set up shop until the weekend is over. For those of you wondering, yes, the bottle of rum is essential to baking. It will only get worse from here.




Because I am already an expert baker (yeah...right!), I have decided to try my hand at candy making. This is not one of my brightest ideas. First up: Peanut Brittle. Making peanut brittle taught me that I am afraid of boiling sugar and that hardened sugar is hard to scrape out of your favorite pot. Next up: Rum Balls and Homemade Marshmallows (thanks M Cubed!).




For the moment I need to stop baking and have a glass of wine and try and shut out my extremely loud neighbors and the gaggle of small children they have running and screaming upstairs. It looks something like this (which is also when I realized that I hate facebook because they keep changing the layout, and I'm pretty sure they are getting more corrupt by the hour, but I'll still keep using it anyway).




Hmm, maybe I can just buy cookies and candy and pretend that I made them.

Just To Remind You How Cute Erma Is

Because I have not posted in a while I am afraid that some people might have forgotten how adorable Erma is. This is her as a cute kitten.








And this is her as a cute adult and neck warmer.



Ahh, I love her!

I'm Back!

I know, I know, it has been a while. You see, I went on this vacation - an awesome vacation - and once a person goes on an awesome vacation, it is hard to accept that they will one day have to go back to real life. So I’m back, as a matter of fact I have been back for a rather long time, but I’ve been dreading the first post-vacation blog post because it is a lot of pressure. I really don’t feel like blogging about my entire vacation minute by minute because I would like to keep it as a pleasant memory for me instead of whoring it out with pictures and eighteen paragraphs about all the great stuff I did. Instead, I’ll just do that a teeny bit.

So here it is, I went to Italy for two weeks with my mom. That’s right, we both left our silly husbands behind to go to Europe, and I personally think it was an excellent decision. Here is the great part though, we met up with her Mountain Friend (my parents live on a mountain, so all friends in that immediate region are Mountain Friends) and the Mountain Friend’s sister, who doesn’t live on a mountain at all. My mom and I did Rome with just the two of us and then found the others in Florence and continued to wreak havoc on most of Tuscany and Umbria with them. We traveled into small towns, got lost in vineyards, saw a billion beautiful churches with amazing artwork in them, spoke Italian poorly, and laughed constantly, all while trying to keep to strict regimen of at least one gelato a day.

Here are a few things I learned:
-Men in Rome dress very well. They also flirt very well and excel at it.
-People in Italy do not obey traffic laws. Now that I think of it, they don’t really do rules very well at all.
-There is good wine everywhere.
-A smile goes a long way even if you have no idea how to speak the language.
-I have finally accepted olives into my life. It feels so sexy.
-Cameras are annoying. This is something that I have always known, but when I have a bunch of rude people at the Vatican pushing me around so they can get a horrible shot of The School of Athens just so they can prove they were there it makes me a bit grumpy.
-German tourists are jolly, while Canadian tourists can be snippy.
-Humans really are amazing. Our gang got our fill of art and architecture and between the Colosseum in Rome and the Justinian mosaics in Ravenna we were just flabbergasted at what humans can make.
-And one of the most important things I learned: If I really love a piece of artwork, there is nothing stopping me from one day going to see it in person. I don’t know why that never occurred to me before, and I know that I will not be able to do it again any time soon, but I am confident that I will be able to see more amazing art and architecture up close and in person during my lifetime.

So now I will leave you with some pictures (half of the pictures are on my camera, and half are on my mother’s camera because we are both technologically challenged, especially when it comes to strange European plugs):




Italy has too many ruins, they are everywhere! They make great benches.




Pigeons are gross no matter what continent you are on.




They really are cute, but I think the Pope has a better chance of defending himself with his pointy hat. I think Jordan must have been a Swiss Guard in a previous life.




Apparently lions really like to eat Christians because we kept seeing it everywhere.




Lunch is Assisi. Just another day of drinking wine and overlooking a beautiful valley...I mean I do it all the time in Delaware.




This? Oh, its just the view from our Villa outside of Arezzo. I just threw it in here even though its pretty similar to the view from my apartment.




Ancient Rome. Seriously, ruins everywhere.

What We Are Listening To

Nothing much going on around here in the Still Life household, but this is what we have been listening to lately. They are both covers, but they are both pretty groovy. Make it through your week by humming some solid beats. That is all.




The Jolly Boys - Rehab. I know, I know, its an Amy Winehouse cover, and its good.




Mos Def and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band - It Ain't My Fault.




The Two Gentleman Band - Swoon. A group my brother Davey pointed out to me. Older brothers always know whats best.

Cornbread and Butter Beans

This song makes me happy. You should probably go buy the Carolina Chocolate Drops album "Genuine Negro Jig". Ever since first hearing them, it is Jordan's new goal in life to play the bones and the jug, and I can totally see it happening. Enjoy!

Promise Me This

Almost two months ago Jordan and I found ourselves at a carnival. It was being held across the street from our apartment, in the lawn of a church, and for about a week we salivated at the bright lights and smell of popcorn every time we passed by it. Finally, on my birthday, one of our friends convinced us that a joyous occasion such as my birth is a good excuse to down a couple drinks and tempt them to come up again on the Gravi-tron. We had a pretty good time at the carnival, even though we realized that it was the land of pre-teen drama and shady vendors.

I learned two lessons that night.

First: Ferris Wheels are the scariest ride ever. At first I thought I would just enjoy the night breeze, moving slowly through the air, heck, maybe I could even spot our apartment! Then I learned that moving slowly through the air in a rickety basket, with half the lights flicking, is enough to make me want to ask the scary man to please make it stop. Seriously, while we were on the ride, some of the lights shorted out…what does that mean? Will there be enough electricity to bring me back safely to the ground where I can then kiss it and thank it for not being the air? Are we just going to be stuck up there forever, or is the entire machine going to just break and we fall in a heap to the ground? I pictured my death possibly 1,000 times during the scariest 4 minutes of my life.


(our Ferris Wheel was much less stable and had much more paint peeling away than this one, oh, and the lights work on this one too)


Second: Never ask Jordan to “promise me this”. As we were leaving I turned to Jordan with one simple request. “Jordan, will you promise me that you will never become a carny?” “Of course, my dearest wife” was the response. I left happily, feeling the bond of marriage as strong as ever. Of course he would never become a carny, do I even have to ask such silly things? Not four days later my charming husband tells me he has a job at the Maryland State Fair at the end of the summer. Ahem. What was so hard to understand about the most attainable favor I have ever asked? So, this past week Jordan has been working on his tan, alternating between guzzling beer in the middle of the day and smoking cigarettes, and trying to black out some of his teeth in order to prepare for his new gig. He worked this weekend and seemed to come home in the same condition that I let him go, but I’m worried that next weekend he might do something really awful, like get a tattoo of Tweedy Bird.


(Jordan's future look...I honestly don't know if this is a man or a woman)


Lessons learned, and maybe next time I'll make him promise to never buy me a pony.

Sleep: The Story of Bedtime in Three Acts

I love sleep.

Sometimes, you just have to get a little extra sleep, even though you know it is not the best plan. The other night was one of those nights. Jordan and I ate dinner, some cozy leftovers of pasta, and had a glass of wine. He then settled in to do some homework, while I took it upon myself to watch a couple hours of Law and Order: Criminal Intent (I know, its just awful, but I love it). I should have realized when I yawned a few times that I was done for, but ever vigilant I carried on.

Act I:
It all started with The Chair. It looked so inviting, with its lovely green cushion and little ottoman: a perfect cocoon of coziness. I decided that it would be the proper viewing spot for a mini Law and Order marathon. In the back of my head I had to have known what this usually means, but perhaps I was in denial since it was only 8:00 in the evening and I didn't want to admit to myself that I planned on going to sleep that early. I snuggled myself warmly into the chair, and then came Erma. Sweet little Erma. Now, what else am I going to do in a perfectly comfortable chair with a little cuddly ball of warmth sprawled across my chest? Erma is definitely a papazan chair whore, no matter who is in it, she is there, willing to lay down with any old person she is sitting with. So, naturally, about 11 minutes into the program, I fell asleep.

Act II:
I slept in the chair until almost 9:00 exactly. Perhaps it was the opening credits music that acted as my alarm clock? Well, of course I was a bit scrunched from napping in a little round chair with a creature on top of me. Looking around, it seemed best that I continue my TV watching on the couch where I could really spread out and even include a blanket to watch the second episode of Law and Order, I quietly swore at myself for taking nap so close to bedtime. I barely even finished listening to the theme song when I was asleep again.

Act III:
Another hour exactly. I woke up and looked around, slightly confused. Well, nothing left to do but go to the bedroom and go to sleep! I grumpily limped passed Jordan (limbs don't like sleeping on mere chairs and couches, they need queen size beds!) mumbled something about going to bed early and to remember to turn on his alarm clock. Another minute and I was out. Erma later joined me and we slept wonderfully until 7:30 the next morning. Seeing as how both Erma and I have very strenuous lives, its easy to see why we were exhausted.

Let's not lie here. The real reason I went to bed early is because I am lazy, and laziness aided by a few glasses of red wine encourages bedtime. I love sleep.

What I Would Take With Me

When I visit museums I like to play a little game called “if I could steal anything here, what would it be”. This game is inspired by a similar version that a family friend plays, only in her tamer version she just decides which piece of art she would like to own. When you place it in the context of stealing, many other factors come in to play. You have to realistically think about how you would remove this piece and what you are going to do with it when you leave. Art theft is a wonderfully lucrative business venture, and if one steals the right objects, retirement could be in the near future. I’ve marked my future nest egg investments all over the United States, and our recent trip to the Metropolitan Museum was no exception.

This museum is huge and one can only imagine how much the entire collection, not to mention the building itself, is worth. There is a huge range of art to play sticky fingers with…everything from Roman coins (although, those seem to be mostly behind glass) to huge paintings on canvas. Jordan and I had quite the task in front of us. I am usually a sucker for paintings as I hope to one day hang my walls with a variety of different two dimensional works hung salon style, but this time I was in the mood for some sculpture.




I found all the detached heads of Medieval religious sculptures to be rather appealing, and I don’t think I could be satisfied with just one, so I would have to steal an assortment of them.




Jordan was rather struck by the Met’s armor collection, and decided that he would like to steal an ancient samurai mask. I approve.




If we were some serious and innovative art thieves, I would very much like to steal Anselm Kiefer’s Bohemia Lies by the Sea. We’ll have to work up to it.

Train Blogging

As we speak (read? write?...whatever), Jordan and I are on a train to New York City. It is pleasant enough so far. The hole-punch man was really nice and arranged for us to sit together at the next stop, and nobody is ignoring the “quiet car” sign by being really loud on their cell phones. Generally people are just on laptops or reading, keeping to themselves.

Everything was good until a stop in Philadelphia. We started to smell something…something funky. At first it just seemed as if it was just general city smell, that dank nasty smell in wet corners of urban areas, but we realized that it wasn’t going away the farther we got from the stop. Somebody in Philadelphia is smelling funky. In my not so subtle ways I have started stealing glances at the newcomers around us. There is a curly haired man, he seems pretty normal and hygienic. There is this father son team that have been up and down the aisle a couple times now trying to get internet access, and when they pass I don’t get any strange smelling wafts of air. Nope, it must be this nice lady sitting next to us. I look at her face; she appears to be clean and normally dressed. My eyes travel downward to the bags she has stashed under the seat. Let’s see, there is a book, a purse, and typical bag things. Ah ha! There is a bundle wrapped in aluminum foil. It appears to have the tail of a fish coming out of it. Yes, I think we have found the culprit.

I hope this soon to be lukewarm dead fish is not traveling all the way to New York City with us.

Letter to Whoever is Taking Care of Erma

If you ever find yourself taking care of Erma one day, you might find a similar letter waiting for you on our kitchen table. Jordan prepared this for two friends that agreed to watch over her one weekend (and did a wonderful job!), and while he did it as a joke, we soon realized that it is all very true. The following is an excerpt:


Thanks again for taking care of Erma this weekend. We were going to ask the 5-year old next store to do it, but after a harrowing story concerning the accidental death of her cat, Becca and I decided that it would be best if we got some professionals (A few moments after she told us this story her mother poked her head out the door and said, “Stop telling people you killed our cat.” She then looked to us and said, “She just stepped on the cat’s tail. The cat is not dead!”) Anyway…digression aside, here is what you should know about Erma now that we’ve roped you into taking care of her. First of all, she doesn’t have a water bowl. She drinks out of a cup because she wants to be like people. She has a blue cup of water on the side table next to the bed, and she usually drinks out of another random cup that is being utilized by either Becca or myself. To make up for this, we have placed a second cup on the end table closest to the front door. You don’t need to give her jug water out of the fridge, but if you feel so compelled, then go for it. Erma does not like ice in her water. Also, in the vein of Erma wanting to be like people, you have to make sure to talk to her first thing when you come in the door. The preferred greeting is either an extremely high pitched “T T T T T!” or a more conversational “What’ve ya been doin’?” She’ll squeak. “Really?” She’ll squeak again. Erma’s favorite lounging areas are in the window of the office next to the dying Aloe plant, underneath the papazan chair, or under the bed (check those areas first if you can’t find her). WARNING: do not go in the closet! We cleaned Erma’s litter right before we left, so don’t worry about that. If you catch Erma staring at the oven, then you are required to chase after her. Erma’s toys are in the metal basket in-between the sliding door and the tea cart. Erma requires different toys depending on her mood: if Erma is looking kind of chipper and playful, then I would either go with the mouse on the end of the stick, the brown shoe lace, or one of the various chickens attached to twisty-ties. If you choose to play with the chickens, then try and get Erma to play fetch; it’s really cute when she does it. O yeah, I forgot something, the piece of felt on the floor of the office with the red fuzzy hat next to it belongs there on the floor; that’s another favorite place of Erma’s; the felt is positioned perfectly so that it catches the morning sunlight between 8:45 and 10:00. Back to the toys: if Erma is looking despondent, then get the bag of catnip out of the freezer and put it on one of the little fuzzy balls; she only plays with the balls if there is catnip involved. Lastly, if she does a drop-and-roll, it means she wants you to pet the tuft of white fur on her chest and pat her butt at the same time. Also, don’t sit on any blankets unless you see Erma, for she might be cuddled up inside of one of the blankets (especially the papazan chair. She loves sleeping in the blanket on the papazan chair). I guess I should say something about Erma’s food. Her food bowl is in the bedroom next to the door. Her food is in the plastic bin next to the food. Erma gets three crumbs from her treat bag a day, which is located in the drawer in front of this letter (use the orange bag of treats). Do not leave the treats out; Erma will rip the bag to shreds just to get her fix.

Now, about the plants. We watered them really well right before we left, so either Saturday or Sunday if you could give them a water, then that would be great. There are jugs of water for the plants outside, so don’t worry about finding a flagon. If you see the squirrel digging in our basil, shoot him with the orange water gun next to the sliding glass door. Then proceed to shake your fist at the squirrel in a menacing manner, and if you really feel inclined, you can yell “Get outta here Little Shit!”

Lastly, leave a light on after you leave that way Erma is not just hanging out in the dark. Not the bedroom light; Erma prefers that room to be dark and cool. Just one of the lights in the living room will be fine.





(More on this pesky squirrel later)

This is NOT One of the Things We Are Going to Hell For

(Jordan's first blog post!)

We use a Bible as a door stop. Sometimes I feel bad about it. Not because it is the holy sanctified word of God that my wife and I are using to keep a door open when the air conditioning turns on, but rather because I try not to put books on the floor. But, let’s face it: if it were the Guttenberg Bible, then I can see God getting pretty upset; but it’s not. It’s one of the free Bibles that evangelicals hand out on street corners: that’s right: the New Testament plus Psalms and Proverbs. Every household probably has one of those old rusty NT+P&P Bibles lying around the house, gathering dust on a shelf; at least we are putting ours to good use. After all, it’s not every day that you find a door stop that fits just perfectly between the bottom of the door and the carpet, and the fit is so snug and tight, that the door does not close. And, again, let’s face it: some houses are poorly designed; nothing gets my goat like a house that is designed to where the force of the AC pushes on the back of a door and forces it shut. What if Erma got stuck in the room? And what if we were gone for a day and Erma had to spend the whole day in the room, without food or water or litter box; what if we came home and she was lying dead on the floor: dead of thirst! So, I’m already pretty sure God doesn’t hate me for using the free Bible as a door stop. But for those of you who would chide me for it, just remember that that doorstop is saving a very precious life: the life of our cat. And, as God said that all creatures were created equal except for roosters, those sneaky little buggers), our cat has a right to life…


Bible that you take care of, one with a leather front embossed with your name and gilded pages:





Bible that you use as a door stop:

Dear Brian Boitano, Will You Be My New Best Friend?

It is time for a new feature on the blog, a segment called, “Dear so-and-so, will you be my new best friend?” It will basically be devoted to people Jordan and I think we could start a pretty awesome relationship with, people that have really made an impact on our lives, or people who we would like to bring home to meet our parents. They may or may not be famous or outstanding citizens, but one thing is for sure: they are cool enough to be our friend.



As revealed in the title, our first new best friend pick is Brian Boitano. First, a little refresher, remember this?



Brian Boitano won the Olympic gold medal in figure skating in 1988, and to date is the only male figure skater to be featured on the front cover of Sports Illustrated. Soon afterward he became a professional skater, during which time he won an Emmy for his role in Carmen On Ice. The man had already received two great honors of achievement that most of us will never have. Then he became a superhero. He was immortalized in the song featured above, bringing his accolades into light for a new generation. What a dreamy guy; not only has he won an Olympic gold medal and an Emmy, but he also saved the human race from the evil robot king, beat up Kublai Khan, and built the pyramids! We could have stopped after the Olympic gold (oh, and he also has his own figure skating move called the ‘Tano triple lutz…cool) in considering him to be our new best friend, and especially after his Emmy and amazing superhero song. But get this, the man can cook too! The Food Network has given BB a cooking show, and it is possibly the best thing on television. It is called "What Would Brian Boitano Make?", with the theme song being the one shown above. He is totally flamboyant and ADD, while the concept of the show is full of humor and love. It even involves a Kristi Yamaguchi bobble head! Is there anything this man could not do? He is awe inspiring and physically fit.

(By the way, Brian Boitano, if by any chance you did a Google search of your name and went 28 pages back and found this blog post and would like to get in contact with us, just leave a message and we can start a correspondence.)

Yes, he is this cool.

Confetti, Spinach, and Beer (or Not)

What does not mix well together? Spinach and booze. Last night we were supposed to go to a beer tasting with friends so I thought we should eat something light because beer makes me really full and feeling gross. I thought a nice spinach salad with some peanut dressing, cranberries, carrots and almonds would be a good choice. We ate, felt good, and were ready to drink all the beer we could. I am always the designated driver when it comes to beer related events because I can drink about one and a half before my stomach is full and cannot drink anymore. By the way, this is not the case with wine; Jordan is always the DD when it comes to wine events.

As it turns out the world had other plans for us that night, and as everyone ended up not being able to make it Jordan and I decided that it would be lame for us to go to the beer tasting by ourselves. We opted for a nice quiet evening at home instead. It worked out perfectly until our AC started making funky squealing noises and we had to turn it off completely in order to keep our sanity…on one of the hottest days of the year.

We quickly decided that since bars are air conditioned we should spend a nice cozy night there instead. We should have been more prepared because spinach does not absorb alcohol very well. We only had a few adult beverages and realized that we were a bit tipsy. We realized this because we were raving about the benefits of having Brian Boitano as a friend when we spotted all the tables around staring at us. Oops, we just get really excited about Brian Boitano (for details see our next post). So to remedy our tipsiness we stopped drinking and went to the pizza place next to the bar to pick up a slice and eat outside. After having a thorough conversation with the pizza guys about the World Cup (I’m for Ghana and Jordan is for Argentina) and whether or not my shirt looked like confetti , we plopped ourselves down on a wide stone fence and graced Main Street with our presence. Our greasy pizza soaked up our drinks and we were good to go just in time because Jordan required that we be home by 10:00 so that he could watch Futurama. There will be more beer tastings in the future, but I was pretty happy with our impromptu date instead.




(Also, this is my shirt, and if it looks like confetti that is alright by me)

It's Not Every Day You Get To See A Cross Section of a Rectum!

Jordan is done with his first year of grad school! Huzzah! I immediately took advantage of this by arranging a super packed weekend full of fun activities for which he would have no excuse not to participate. There was eating out, swanky nightclubs, cheese tasting, Philadelphia, and movie watching, all supposed to be enjoyed while praising the amazing wife who arranges such activities. As it turns out we are too poor for the cheese tasting and getting too old for swanky nightclubs. It was also humid (which makes us grumpy) and rainy (which interfered with my wardrobe choices and picnic blanket). A revision of my wonderful plans was made and we decided to go to the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia. Good choice.





The museum is full of strange little medical oddities and paraphernalia. Some of my favorites include the collection of skulls (there was a whole separate section devoted to skulls of syphilis victims, that stuff will mess you up!), the collection of ear bones, and shrunken heads. Everywhere you looked there were cross sections of skin (or faces!) suspended in a tank of stained liquid. There was also a fascinating display about the assassination of President Lincoln and the capture and death of John Wilkes Booth. I learned about wet and dry specimens, and saw a decent amount of bones, skeletons and shriveled organs. Some of the items on display, while I’m sure important to the study of medicine, made me sad. For example, I had to stop looking at the progression of fetuses, especially the ones with deformities. Surprisingly, all of the other patrons were well behaved, except for this one group of college age guys being really loud and disrespectful.

Part of the cozy charm of the museum is the display. Everything feels old fashioned because most of it is, and the newer parts didn’t always seem to fit in with the old dark wood and yellowing placards. Even though it was hard to read an aging handwritten label through a display of rippled old glass it lent an air of nostalgia to the experience. One could spend hours examining the two floors of the small museum and we did. (As a side note, don’t wear a dress or skirt, because the people on the bottom level can totally look up and examine something else.) We left feeling excited that we had learned something; their slogan "disturbingly informative" is accurate.

All in all it was the perfect trip for a rainy afternoon.

Rhubarb Attempt #2

Tis the season of rhubarb! My first rhubarb cake was pretty tasty, but I needed more! Martha Stewart always has good suggestions and this rhubarb galette did not let me down. Both treats were equally humble and delicious, this one maybe slightly fancier than the first. I also love the presentation, so rustic and pretty. The cornmeal crust is good, and even though I am not a pie crust maker this was super easy. Next time I might cut down on the cinnamon because it tasted a little bit too much like apple pie, but then again I don't like too much cinnamon in anything. However, this would be good with apples too. I also don't mess with any of this unsalted butter business because salted butter is just fine with me. In addition I didn't have eggs or turbinado sugar, but it turned out fine anyway. Maybe my problem with baking is that I cannot bring myself to be prepared enough to be exact with anything? Oh well, it was still delicious! Next up, my mom's cobbler recipe!

Herbage Update

I would like the following photographs to prove that I have not killed anything yet.



mint



dill, chives, basil



lavender



thyme and rosemary (and a succulent that originally looked like The Hulk's knuckles coming out of the soil but now looks like it has been munched on by a squirrel)


Times became desperate with the basil because we have a squirrel problem. Apparently squirrels like basil and are not always scared off by a water gun. Seriously, Ellis (short for LS, short for Little Shit) seems to be a masochist, or maybe he is just trying to cool off. This little creature is relentless, so we currently have the basil weighted down with pebbles and it is finally starting to grow because it doesn't get uprooted every 3 hours.

Any good recipes using herbs for food or cocktails are welcome!