Good Things

W, after being run over by his Bigfoot monster truck, still tends to the needs of his tiny purple ponies and Jelly Cat. Awwwww...

Last night’s dinner and the night before: Wednesday we slurped wintry vegetable soup that the Hubs liked about at much as wearing underwear. I thought it was good but without the toasted crostini topped with goat cheese and chives afloat in the bowl it would’ve been a little too boring. Last night the Hubs pan seared some Hawaiian Orange Nairagi fillets, nuked a couple sweet yellow potatoes and we finished the meal with a beet, goat cheese and spinach salad. Very simple, very good. Tonight we’re warming our innards on rigatoni swimming in hot sausage and fennel. Add to that some crusty bread, a juicy red wine and we’ll be ready for a long winter’s nap.

Today’s money saving tip: Actually I have two…one is to unplug all appliances, etc. that you aren’t actively using to reduce your electric bill. Of course the Hubs forgets about this one and is often waiting for lengthy spells for the water to boil in the electric kettle.












The other tip is to give homemade holiday gifts this year. Yesterday my aunt who lives in nearby Oatmeal demystified the art of canning for me. We made a myriad of jams and a jelly which will be part of my gift giving collection. I am finding an irresistible urge to make goodies from the home and heart this year. Probably the only good thing coming out of this recession for me.

Random thoughts: I wondered the other night while putting a Spongebob Squarepants band-aid on my thumb after slicing it open with a serrated bread knife why, before I had my son, didn’t I ever stock my bathroom shelves with whimsical band-aids? They actually make me feel a little bit better than putting on one of the nondescript flesh toned stickies.

I’ve always wanted the smell of my laundry to be the envy of friends and family but thus far to no avail. Downey without a doubt reminds me of my Granny so I can’t use that one. I like being periodically reminded of her when I stand downwind of someone’s softened threads. I remember hearing on NPR about a recently completed documentary on wives of deceased soldiers who anxiously awaited their husband’s garments from the front lines so they could bury their noses in the essence of their flesh only to find everything had been previously washed and smelled like Tide. How heartbreaking.

W just peed on my jeans because I forgot to place his front-end business in the proper place while he pooped. Nice.

Happy Friday everyone!

Leftovers

Last night's dinner: leftovers from Friday night which was Eggplant and Spinach Lasagne Spirals. I’ve been making these since the recipe came out in 2002. It’s very time consuming but well worth the effort and the presentation is unique for lasagne.



Today's money saving tip: shop at your neighborhood Goodwill. I spent about an hour there today combing through the kids clothes. Thank goodness the music they pipe in is decent because the place has the odor of neglect and abuse and makes it hard for me to breathe. I did find some great shirts and long johns for W for about two bones a piece and scored on a Junk Food brand “I’m A Pepper” t-shirt in my size and in great shape that would normally retail for about $20. Let me say that the young girls clothing selection is the best and so are the newborn options because infants wear their stuff for like 7 minutes before they’ve outgrown it so at Goodwill that stuff is in superb shape. Take some time on your lunch break, put on some scented lipgloss to mask the stale air there and dig in. I bet you’ll find something you can’t live without.

So since I’m not working and the Hubs is now home we’re getting to spend much more time together. This is both good and bad. This morning it was nice to drop off the tot at school together and then head to town lake to walk for about an hour with the dog but you would’ve never guessed the Hubs was going to be my athletic partner in crime. He was wearing his super skinny pencil leg jeans with Doc Martins as ankle weights and his rocker looking Ray Bans. I had to beg him to leave his bajillion dollar leather jacket behind because, seriously, I didn’t want to exercise with Johnny Cash. Towards the end of the hike I was certain his hiney was going to flame up from the friction he was complaining about back there. Good times with more to come.

Here are some pics from our days in Marfa...

Whoa.

I sit here and think of all that has happened since I last posted and realize I need to take a serious vacation. 83 parties we produced, people, 83 in 9 days. After several 14 to 17 hour slogs in a row, I wasn't sure I was going to make it to the end. At a certain point, everything became an act of smoke and mirrors, an exercise in digging deep within to muster what was needed to keep the momentum moving forward and clients happy. Freakin’ challenging but we all made it (except for my poor boss who is down and out with the flu). I remember briefly taking a load off in my hotel room, just a mere 10 minutes to rest my bones, and being jolted awake from an upright position by my cell phone. I had just flat out passed out sitting up. I’m still feeling the sting of fatigue as I write this. I never once had a hangover, never had a chance to let it all hang out, but my body is hungover and will be until I can get indefinitely horizontal.

There were many days in a row that I didn’t get to see W and on the days I did, it was only in the morning. I returned home at the end of this conference to find him taller, hair longer, with more teeth, and full of new words. He is also covered in a horrible (but non-contagious) rash caused by a bout of rotavirus (exploding landmines of rocket-like poop with a force that boggles the mind and blasts through clothing) he suffered a few weeks back. He looks like he’s covered in Braille. He has also claimed a level of independence that surprises me. The Hubs tells a funny story of going to pick up W from school one afternoon and trying his best to get W to follow him out the door. His “I’m leaving now,” and “Daddy’s going to go,” had no impact on the boy. After many gentle threats, the Hubs made his way to the classroom patio, just a few steps away from the exit gate. He said he breathed a sigh of relief when W marched in his direction as if his only intention was to vacate the building with him but instead he grabbed the classroom door and closed it in the Hubs’ face leaving him alone on the stoop as W hiked his way back to whatever it was he was doing. What a little fink.

Many props go to Miss Jo who became other mother and not only took care of W but kept the house in order. Gogo came in for the weekend and took up some of the slack as well. The Hubs really stepped up to the plate and I am so thrilled, grateful and happy knowing he didn’t maim W and W didn’t drive him around the bend. I think the two even had some serious fun together.

Now, let’s get back to our regularly scheduled programming, shall we?

Chaos Unleashed

Since I am the queen of chaos, I seem to subconsciously enjoy making things way more chaotic than they need to be. I don’t mean that I’m an over-reacting, control-freak sort of martyr type (that’s only part of the time). I mean that when I am in the midst of intense, brain pureeing details of my job times 1,000, I seem to find at least one more mammoth project with numerous details to add to the mix. Last year is was a complete house remodel and birth of a new baby. This year it's 90 events that are to happen within a 9-day period in March and a complete overhaul done of our front and back yards. Months ago I spent some time inartistically drawing out my dream yard, something suitable to our budget and neighborhood. After a bit of searching and some outrageous bids from landscaping companies that took my ideas to a whole new level (“How about a floating deck, one that seems to hover over the surface of the yard?”), we settled on a company whose owner is a friend of the family, does good work, and we’d get the “Friends & Family” deal. This deal, however, is still a major wallop to the pocketbook and we’re currently looking for a job for W. After a couple of weeks had passed, the crew showed up on the scene and, armed with an orange can of spray paint, marked up the lot. I came home at the end of the day and it looked like our yard had been tagged by a handful of artistically challenged gang members. I found a few of the markings to be incorrect and used the can of spray paint to make some adjustments. This included accidentally spraying the wall of the studio out back. Nice.

And so it rained for 40 days and 40 nights and then it froze and all of the landscaping demarcations washed away and had to be done again. One sunny day the crew arrived (one of them is in touch with his inner pirate complete with bandana, goatee with long mustache and a dangling gold loop earring the size of a silver dollar…he totally rules!) and began unloading chunks of stark white limestone. I had to go to work and wasn’t able to witness what was about to occur but later in the day I received a frantic phone call from the Hubs. “Did you tell them they could do what they just did to the yard? I mean, it looks awful. You gotta talk to them. I hate what they’ve done!” I came home later that day to see my two trees barricaded by a short wall of limestone in the shape of an “o” and a wall of the same stuff outlining the front of our house framing the beds of the yard. I realized we could go to battle with the neighborhood and be safe in our own personal version of the Alamo. Egads! I immediately got on the horn and told our family friend/landscape company owner that this was not going to work and all of the rock had to come out. Our tiny yard couldn’t support such weight, such bulk and besides, we live in a purple and orange house with straight lines and squares. What does stark white limestone in the circlular shapes got to do with it? So, confused and befuddled, the crew dismantled their beautiful work and quietly laughed at the Gringa who wants only metal edging around the beds. I do have to admit that this talented bunch has replaced our front sidewalk with same said stark white limestone and their craftsmanship is incredible. We are now the proud owners of one of the sexiest sidewalks in the ‘hood. Now if people would just keep their muddy feet off of it.

The nightmare before...
















And the nightmare during...
































The crew. The pirate is the clown in the yellow shirt.

Flying Solo

Eleven weeks and counting. Junebug will make his or her arrival in eleven short weeks. Am I ready? You bet! Am I prepared? Not in the least. Our house is without walls, floors, countertops and just about everything. A network of wires, plumbing and support beams are crudely exposed like a trauma patient on an operating table. When are the contractors gonna sew this project up? It's been rather quiet over there, too. Something about awaiting permits. My baby isn't going to wait on any permits before it arrives on the scene and all I know is, in eleven weeks, I better be perched in my new bed, in my new bedroom, in my new house with Junebug on one arm and my man on the other.

My husband is gone for the week to write songs in Nashville with country artists. This sort of trip is so far removed from his womanizing, misogynistic "Guy Fantasy" persona. I wonder if it will be difficult for him to switch creative gears so he can write those sappy "Honey, I love you and the kids and America" songs. I imagine him sitting in a room with some God-fearing, meat & three snacking, oversized (and successful) Nashville songwriter pondering a line to follow...

"When you walked away, baby
I knew that kinda love
was sent by the good Lord
from the heavens above..."

Guy's next line would most likely be...

"but my God is whiskey
in the jigger in my hand
and when it's empty I'll go join the band
at the edge of the stage, right next to the pole
where I can catch a glimpse of Bunny's sexy mole..."

Hee, hee.

I join him in a week and we'll drive to Kentucky to visit family for the Fourth of July. I'm thrilled about the trip but not the impending meals so I'm currently stocking up on all sorts of snacks to get me, Junebug, and hubby through. (Cue banjo music here.)

A Dysfunctional Debut

I have finally managed to find the time (and many reasons) to create a blog. For months, it has been a manifestation eloquently written in my mind on a daily basis but actually getting this thing to become a reality has been a challenge. So, now, here it is and it feels pretty dang good.

I have only recently begun reading other peoples blogs, namely "mommie" blogs, and find them to be a great outlet for the quirks of everyday life. In my case, things have gotten very quirky. I am in my 26th week of pregnancy and have a burning desire (yes, similar to prenatal heartburn) to write about this very surreal and life changing event. In addition to my child's impending arrival and very present state of being in my belly, my husband and I are in the midst of remodeling our home (it MIGHT be ready by the time Junebug makes its appearance). This situation has forced us to relocate temporarily down the street from the chaotic scene and we can now view the construction from a safe distance. Right behind our shack-to-a-castle dwelling, an overzealous developer is cramming 10 3-story condos in a lot once home to a peacefull collective of homeless beer-in-a-bag drinkers. I miss their jungle of privacy and mystery. Now, with all underbrush and trees removed, the temperature on our block it 10 degrees hotter, much noiser, and condusive to construction workers helping themselves to our backyard contents (I hope you enjoy the patio bricks!).

So in the coming hours, days, weeks, years even, I will describe the details of what it's like in this little world of mine and I truly hope you find some enjoyment, entertainment, and encouragement in it. Anon.