Prattle... from the flatlands

The long and winding road

2009-12-31T10:09:00.003-06:00

Funny thing about clichés – they bombard our vocabulary even while being held in contempt by lovers of language and literary nobility. They have, however, woven their way into our vernacular because they have merit. They are born from repetitious truth.

With that in mind may I say, “My how time flies.”

One of my last clear memories was sometime early in August when I decided to sell me house. The remainder of that month was lost to combat against cobwebs and dust bunnies, hours spent with brush in hand and paint in my hair, scouring and scrubbing that left my weary bones in need of a Calgon moment.

September was my month of upkeep. Fluffing the pillows, wiping the counters, and chasing down pet hair in an attempt to keep the home front ready for that last minute viewing. The lawn must be trim, the windows sparkling, the bathroom spotless. I fell into a vortex of cleanliness that led to exhaustion which was compounded by fitful sleep as I worried the place would never sell.

In early October an angel walked in the door. “I love it, I’ll take it,” she said and I barely had a moment to revel in the good news than the onslaught of inspections began. This was a harrowing month. My home was 80 years old and while charming and full of character, she was also showing every bit of her age. I think I held my breath for about 45 days waiting for some awful defect to surface.

I squeaked through multiple inspections by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin and was a wreck as I waited for the dreaded gas utility visit. When that last inspector gave me a “pass” I did a little jig in my basement as he backed away in horror. I would have kissed him except he really was quite sweaty.

With the reality looming that I soon would not have a place to live, I launched into a frantic search for a rental. All the anxiety up to this point was suddenly a minor blip compared to the ordeal of finding a clean, safe, affordable new home. Not to disparage all landlords, but why don’t they clean up decomposing mice before they show the house? And don’t they realize a fresh coat of paint would certainly help justify the exorbitant rent.

After hours and hours on craigslist I lucked upon a tidy ranch; fresh, bright, a little bland but it would be a nice place to call home. It had everything I needed and a few bonus features: good location, space for a home office, nice kitchen, pristine bath, fenced yard, and a large breezeway for a 3-season garden room.

I moved the day after Thanksgiving. The relocation went smoothly without a single horror story to tell. While I do not pine for my old house, I soon realized what creatures of habit we are. The emotional upheaval was amplified by silly little things – having to sleep on the other side of the bed, mistakenly driving home to the old place, the frustration of finding my way around a new grocery store.

While the past few months remain a blur, the feelings of time lost were swept away as I realized in an unexpected moment how magically everything came together. The disorder of my life was replaced in a nano second by the richness of a fresh perspective.

So as I am propelled into another decade I ardently embrace one more cliché – “Out with the old, in with the new.”

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Note to Friends from the Blogosphere: Honestly, not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I wonder what delight and silliness and drama is filling up your lives. I miss you; I miss your creativity and your generosity of spirit. I send heartfelt wishes to you all for a new year filled with comfort and joy, peace and goodwill.

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The evolution of a blogger

2009-09-19T21:27:00.002-05:00

One year, 27 days and 161 posts ago, I officially became a blogger.

It all started with an offhand comment from a friend. I was deep in the throes of job hunting and seriously frustrated with the process. I had been stood up, made to do role play and the final straw -- one of my interviewers fell asleep.

As I was moaning about my experiences and prattling on about the undignified world of the job search, my friend said, “Why don’t you write a blog.”

It took a minute for my brain to process the idea. Then I laughed. If you’ve read my masthead, you know I am a self-professed luddite and the thought of jumping into the blogosphere was skulking no where in my universe.

That night I woke up in the wee hours and instead of counting sheep, I started a one-person brainstorming session about blog possibilities. The next day I logged on to blogger.

The original concept was to rant about the idiocy of potential employers as a means to ease some frustration and maybe amuse a few simpatico cyber surfers. But as I jumped into writing, I just couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm for a good rant. It seemed so self-absorbed, so whiny, so “who cares.”

Instead I began writing in an essay style. Talking about what inspired me, what I enjoyed, how I viewed the world. Sometimes I took two or three days and many hours to finish a post. I searched for the right word, a unique perspective, an original thought. It was relatively satisfying.

Then I began running out of material to write about. Being insightful isn’t so damn easy.

About that time, I started cruising through the blogosphere. I bounced from post to post and was impressed by the creativity, the variety, the fresh voices I found. I wanted to be funny. Then I decided I wanted to be impactful. Or how about writing around a certain theme. Where could I find brilliant photos? Maybe poetry. Maybe fiction. I could do recipes or talk about gardening.

Enough already!!! I was making myself crazy trying to catch up with everyone else. Wanting to be as good. Trying to be better. Trolling for followers. Spending hours making comments.

Thankfully I finally settled down and just started having fun. I locked onto some interesting sites and made good friends. I was impressed by the bounty of generous, kind, talented people hanging out in cyber space. I felt so at home. I was enthralled with the sense of community. I loved the expression.

And I spent way too many hours being consumed by posting and exploring my blog roll.

That brings us to present time. The phase I am in now I would say is a classic case of burn out. It’s fairly typical of my personality – diving in feet first, keeping a frantic pace, eventually wearing down my enthusiasm.

But before it’s never been such a dilemma.

I don’t want to walk away from the blogosphere, but it seems so...so…so ….uncommitted? half-hearted?.... to do it with one foot in, one foot out. The conundrum is the fence I am riding.

This was a long winded way of saying, you’re not going to be seeing as much of me. I think maybe I am morphing into a lurker. I will be hanging out in your comment pop-up box and when you least expect it, a tart response will appear. Maybe I will even have something to post about once in a while. Maybe not.

A couple of months back I did a Six Word Saturday post, half of which said I was: “embracing the unexpected”. Bottom line -- that could be what this shift is all about. I am clearing the deck for what is coming next in my life.

When I find out what that is, I will let you know.

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Blingee Flingee

2009-09-17T10:23:00.001-05:00

The sparkly stuff has arrived. Some came willingly, others were badgered into the world of glitter, but everyone had fun making wild creations.

Here are participant masterpieces in order of arrival in my inbox.

"Sarah Trooper" by Some Guy from a blog of the same name.

Personalized Glitter Graphics

Kathleen at Easy For Me to Say pays tribute to Mr. B.

Add Glitter to Pictures

Nancy from Life in the Second Half creates a sparkly ode to nature.

Create cool Profile Comments

VA, who brings us Vegetable Assassin, wanted to offer up the "cheeseyist" glitter.

Glitter Graphics

Dee aka "Lindy MacDuff" at Mike & D's Life in the Hoosier State and Beyond gets friendly with a favorite Scotsman.

Make custom Glitter Graphics

Lori, who shares great adventures on Lori Times Five, pays hommage to the King of Beasts.

Make custom Glitter Graphics

And last, but certainly not least, ds from Third-Storey Window has been hanging out with the Bard.

Glitter Graphics

Thank you everyone for putting some sparkle into your life, and into ours.

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Blingee nation

2009-09-15T16:01:00.003-05:00

Glitter Graphics

Hello! Anybody out there in the blogosphere?

My request for Blingee creations has been woefully ignored, having received only a few entries to date. Interestingly, those who did submit a sparkly masterpiece all said the same thing..."Gee, that was fun."

So, see what you're missing. A creative process. The opportunity to wow your fellow bloggers. The chance to attach shiny stuff to digital pixels.

It's not too late. Click here for details. Wednesday, September 16, at midnight is the deadline. Looking forward to your razzle and dazzle.

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Looking back

2009-09-12T02:42:00.003-05:00

As Labor Day approaches, I’m not saddened by the loss of summer, but thankful at the prospect of fall. While spring may be the most eagerly awaited season, with the puppy dog anticipation of crocus shoots and longer days, autumn brings a sigh of relief with its colorful, cool days.

Spring gets you pumped up; autumn encourages you to let go.

In February and March, I find myself looking out the window at my garden, brown and trodden. I watch for the first green sprout to show itself among the soggy leaves. One by one as the early daffodils, daylilies and iris present themselves, my heart pumps faster with each green bud. Like a bear coming out of hibernation, my spirit starts to stir.

By April I find myself circling the perimeter of my yard. Sometimes two or three times a day. What’s growing new today, I wonder. By May the peonies are emerging so quickly I would swear they leap up when my back is turned. My heart soars when I notice the first buds on the hydrangea, so you can imagine the exaltation when the apple tree glows pink with blossoms.

And then before you know it, it’s July. Hot, humid, relentless, with the steamy days, blazing sun and breezeless nights. The leaves of the peonies become crispy brown. The lawn forsakes all hope that spring promised. Slugs, beetles, thrips beat you down with their tenacity.

O fall where art thou?

Labor Day is summer’s last hurrah. Who cares if I can no longer wear white...I can see a rosy touch of pink in the sky, hear a note of reprieve in the birds’ song, and feel a kiss of coolness in the night air. While I’m so happy to fill pots with flowers as spring begins, I find myself in August longing for the day when I can store the hose away.

Until it begins all over again in a few months.

(Reprinted from last year because my creativity is on the wane.)

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Blingee Free-For-All

2009-09-09T17:11:00.005-05:00

Personalized Glitter Graphics

Hear ye! Hear ye! I am calling for an official end to the August blogging absenteeism. Some of us (including myself) have been MIA for one reason or another. I've missed visiting you and commenting. I've also missed reading your comments on Prattle.

So...to get everyone back into the swing of things and exercising their creative muscle, I am hosting a Blingee Free-For-All. Take yourself to the home of glitter and sparkle by visiting www.blingee.com. From there the process is pretty intuitive. Making a twinkling masterpiece is free -- and fun for all ages.

No rules. No regulations. (Though I am a PG rated blog, not XXX.) Choose your image and add shiny crap to it. Send your entries to pyzahn@hotmail.com by September 16th. That's one week to razzle and dazzle.

You must send me the Blingee "code". Once you've finished your entry, there will be a link right next to the photo that will take you to the code location. Choose photo size #3 (280x280) and cut 'n' paste the full code text into your email. If I don't have the code, I won't have the sparkle.

Don't forget to include your name/blog title so proper credit can be given.

I will post all entries by September 18th and visitors will have a chance to comment on the creations. Sorry, no actual prize is being offered, just the opportunity to showcase your talent. Hopefully, you will also make us laugh.

NOTE: Lurkers are welcome to play along. You don't need to have a blog to participate.

Now...on your mark, get ready, get set.....Bling me!

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Dum da dum dum... dum

2009-09-02T19:04:00.010-05:00

With that milestone birthday getting closer and closer (oh, the horror), I have been thinking about what I want for the next phase of my life. Here are my big day wishes:

I wish....to always be resourceful and moving with the flow of life.

I wish....to be the eternal optimist.

I wish....to keep being interested so that I may be interesting.

I wish....that I will never lose the twinkle in my eye.

I wish....that if I ever have a moment like this somebody will shoot me.

I wish....to always have a sense of humor.

(This photo is dedicated to Rudee.)

Here's hoping all my wishes come true. And yours, too.

CREDITS: Images are courtesy of my resource coordinator, the lovely Kathy Vina.

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Now what?

2009-08-31T16:09:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was my Open House.

After three weeks of frantic prep leading to the nerve wracking event, it was all over in two short hours

A last minute walkthrough before the appointed time was a little unnerving. The sterile kitchen was a field of sleek, empty countertops. My desk was so naked it refracted the sunshine and made me squint in the glare. The freshly planted geraniums in the planters startled me every time I saw their blazing color through the window.

As I surveyed my staged environment, I couldn’t help but wonder…“Who lives here?” It felt as though much of my personality had been stuffed into drawers along with the clutter.

Traffic for the event was good, not great. About twelve nice folks came through, and not one apparent psycho among them. It took me a while to get my rhythm. The first lookers I’m sure found me very stiff and uncomfortable. Then I relaxed into the flow and got into a laid back salesmanship role.

I think there were a few good prospects, friends of neighbors who were familiar with the area and loved the house. But I didn’t hear those magic words I had so fiercely anticipated….”I love it! I’ll take it!”

After pulling the open sign from the street and turning off all the lights, I fell on the bed in a weary heap (next to the stoner dog who was tranquilized for the event). Every waking hour of the past few weeks had been filled with purpose. There were chores, there were exacting schedules, there was a deadline to be met.

Now what?

As tired as I was, it was hard to just chill. My body and brain had been rewired to be constantly in motion. Being still was not a recent option.

So as my mind continued to whirl, I contemplated next steps. More advertising. More flyers. Spread the word. Keep the house clean. Hold a good thought.

I’m hoping this is not a never-ending story.

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Progress report

2009-08-26T20:30:00.005-05:00

Look. There it is. Can you see it? It's the light at the end of the tunnel. I finally feel like I'm seeing an end to the cleaning, painting, sprucing, gardening, as I get my home ready to sell.

The major projects are complete (knock on wood) and I'm moving on to the final touches. A little primping and staging. Final check for dust bunnies and cobwebs lurking in the hinder regions. Last minute refinements. Fluff the pillow, arrange the flowers. Breathe a big sigh of relief. Well, not quite yet. I have to sell it first.

I've got to admit -- I'm dead tired. The days have been long and I've used muscles that don't get worked on the weight training circuit. I fall dead asleep only to wake up at one in the morning with horrible thoughts that I don't even want to put in writing. Then I toss and turn like the devil's in my bed.

But at the same time I've got a proud sense of satisfaction as I look around and see sparkling tile and shiny clean windows. The touches of new paint are giving a fresh appeal. The decluttering of table and desk tops make the rooms feel sleek and airy.

Now it's time to turn to the main man for help. Aside from some shrewd marketing I'm putting in place, the sale of my home is in the hands of St. Joseph. I really was not comfortable with the thought of burying the poor guy, upside down no less. I mean really, who thought of that? Then a friend said she just said a prayer to him and placed the statue in a cozy cabinet. Her house sold the first day. Yay. No dirt, no head stands.

I searched for pictures of St. Joseph and came across this sweet one. Typically you see him holding the baby Jesus, but I like that here he is in his own house and even has a dog!

My open house is Sunday. I'm praying for good weather. I'm praying for a good turn out. I'm asking for a solid buyer (no psycho fanatics,please). I am hopeful. I am optimistic. I will keep you posted.

The little engine that could

2009-08-18T21:26:00.007-05:00

Sweeping. Dusting. Mopping. Washing. Sneezing. Pruning. Weeding. Edging. Taping. Painting. Scraping. Wheezing. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

That's pretty much been my life the past week and the reason I am MFTB (missing from the blogosphere).

As I plunge into the process of getting my home ready to sell, there have been moments of great satisfaction when it seems like progress is being made. There was also one wildly fretful episode when a gaze around the 80 year old basement was so overwhelming I fell into a dark spinning fog of high anxiety.

Cobwebs have been splitting and reproducing faster than a drunken amoeba. I cannot get the smell of latex gloves off my hands. My hair and body form a kaleidoscope of paint colors.

Yesterday I was reeling in a complete panic, crazed by the scope of work needing to be done. Then last night I watched a show called "The Hoarders" on A&E. Seeing those poor people squeezing through narrow paths etched out in the waist high debris that completely filled their homes, my vigor and determination returned.

In a random flick of the channel my tasks suddenly seemed very doable. You gotta love synchronicity.

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Movin' on

2009-08-11T21:32:00.005-05:00

A few months back I wrote a post titled "Shift Happens". It was about those times in your life when you suddenly see things differently or when you head off unexpectedly in a new direction. For reasons, maybe obvious or maybe unknown, the universe gives you a little nudge, the winds change and your life, along with the energy around you, shifts its course.

Well, I find myself in the maelstrom of a "status quo interuptus".

This is what happens when you take some down time to recharge and re-evaluate. It's during that peaceful reverie, that self reflection, that the nudge comes and you find yourself bumped into a new frame of mind.

And that is not a bad thing.

To get myself moving in a new direction, I've decided to sell my house. It's something I've considered for a while and when that shift hit, I was ready to accept the change.

Yes, the process is going to be stressful, but I'm looking to the end result and I know that optimistic outlook will get me through the turbulence. Right now what I'm knee deep in and not loving is the cleaning and painting, and painting and cleaning.

There is something satisfying, though, in seeing the boxes of crap ascending out of my basement and filling up the dumpster. Something devilishly delightful in knowing the crabgrass will be the new owner's problem. Something quite jubilant about the anticipation of setting up in a new home. (I'm a Virgo, I love organization.)

The down side, sadly, is that this wild work schedule of clean up and freshen up will keep me away from the blogosphere for a while. The upside is that when I return I am sure I will have keen stories to tell about the basketball-sized dust bunnies lurking behind the dresser, lookie-loos testing my pesky nature and the plethora of nasty rental properties.

Until then, remain in good cheer and embrace the unexpected.

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Gone fishin'

2009-08-03T20:31:00.003-05:00

While the saying "gone fishin'" is in this context just a metaphor, it does convey my current state of mind. I'm feeling the need to recharge, rejuvenate, re-evaluate. So I'm going to take some time away from blogging and wallow in a state of reverie.

Hanging out in the blogosphere has become so second nature to me that stepping away for a while will put me into a bit of withdrawal, but I know I will be back. Maybe in two days, maybe in two weeks.

Keep on being creative and sassy and honest and irreverent. I hope you all will be here when I return.

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What's on your fridge?

2009-07-29T10:48:00.007-05:00

Finally this past weekend I convinced myself I could no longer put off cleaning the house. Part of that frenzy was to strip away some of the clutter that has been accumulating on my refrigerator. Here are a few selected items.

Starting with vintage postcards...

This face always makes me laugh.

This is from way before the time of Photoshop, so I don't know if it's a manipulated image or just three really happy sibling kittens.

This is Coney Island c. 1938. Gadzooks...look at that mass of humanity.

I got this from a fortune cookie a couple years ago. I'm waiting, waiting...

Here I am looking quite pleased to be photographed with the dude who plays Jackson Montgomery on All My Children.

A friend sent this to me in a birthday card a few years back. Hardeeharhar.

I just love this comic strip, "Rose is Rose".

A few of my cutesy magnets that were yard sale finds.

This postcard doubles as a finger puppet. You can print it off on card stock, cut out the hole and enjoy hours of fun at your next party.

What's on your fridge?

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Pass-a-long of the week

2009-07-28T19:25:00.006-05:00

Every now and then you might be fortunate enough to stumble upon someone who adds a distinctive voice to your life. For me, Steve Almond is one of those people.

He’s not a guru of any sort, nor a noted genius, or a loving spiritual guide, but he has a couple of talents that I admire and he’s a man who stands up for his beliefs. (Don’t go thinking Gandhi, but more along the lines of 70’s counter-culture disciple)

I can’t even remember how I became acquainted with him, but if you are ever in a state of mind where you need a good laugh – I mean a from the gut rip roaring snort – then you should read his book, “candyfreak”.

This man knows more about packaged sweets than any other human being on this planet. “candyfreak” is his wacky memoir of a truly wild addiction.

Aside from writing, he served as adjunct professor in creative writing at Boston College for five years until publishing an open letter of resignation in the Boston Globe in which he explained that his resignation was intended to protest the selection of Condoleezza Rice as the college's 2006 commencement guest speaker. That’s the standing up for his beliefs part that I mentioned earlier.

The other dimension Steve adds to my life is his knowledge of music. I subscribe to his newsletter and a couple of times a year he will send out a list of recommendations. We’re talking mostly below the radar talent that you likely would never encounter had you not be privy to his thoughts. Well, at least it’s fresh to a music dud like me.

Here are a few picks from his recent list:

Raphael Saadiq, The Way I See It (Sony, 2008)
Am I honestly tipping a solo album by a Tony! Toni! Toné! alum? To mis-quote our last black president, when questioned as to whether he enjoyed pollinating Gennifer Flowers ... You bet I am. This is pure soul from the Philly wing of the party. "Sure Hope You Mean It" ranks as the greatest hidden track never released by the Platters. (I second this recommendation. One of my favorite CDs in a long time.)

Charlie Mars, Like a Bird, Like a Plane, (Rockingham Records, 2009)
Charlie got tipped a few years back and he returns now, having thrown off the bridle of country for something more atmospheric, a kind of Pink Floyd under the influence of Marley vibe. Call it stoner sex jelly. And spread liberally.

Johnny Flynn, A Larum, (Mercury Records, 2008)
Tommy Finks put me onto Flynn, who makes folk rock of the nimblest British sort. Think Fairport Convention with a brogue, or Nick Drake with a bit more vim in his vigor. It's all joy and mischief, guitars strummed by sprites and a reedy tenor.

Clare Burson, Silver and Ash.
A softly devastating suite of songs that reveal themselves with the slow grace of an antique music box. There's a story here, subtle but persistent, about the people who came before us, and the miracle of our births.

Ike Reilly, Poison the Hit Parade, (Six Siren, 2008)
Still ugly, still making pretty things. The Ike delivers another blow to the temple of corporate rock. "When the Plant Shuts Down" offers a blistering vision of what the recession might do to wake our conscience.

Eric Hutchinson, Sounds Like This, (Warner Brothers, 2008)
Madonna was all ready to roll Hutchinson out as the Next Big Thing. Then her label tanked. Then the internets found him. Then he got another deal. And now his first LP is here, a creamsicle of sweet sunny pop.

If you just want to listen without purchase commitment, I often find CDs through my library. Then if it’s good, I can rip it to my computer. I also joined MySpace because they have an amazing music collection. You can create your own playlist, perfect for background tunes while you are blogging. The playlist is free but downloads do have a fee.

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BloggerCon...costumes optional

2009-07-26T22:14:00.003-05:00

Recently I have been having fun thinking about organizing a Blogger convention. Rather like ComicCon, only without Super Heroes. And where costumes are optional.

Then today I’m trolling blogs and I start seeing these references to BlogHer who was hosting a conference this past weekend. Why am I the last to know? I visited the BlogHer site and scanned through the agenda.

Here’s a sample:

• The Transformational Power of Blogging
• MommyBlogging: Have You Found your Mommy Blogging Tribe?
• “Balance” is a Big, Fat, Lying, McLiar LIE for Moms who Blog
• Blogs & Body Image: What are we teaching our kids?
• You Are Not Your Disease, You Just Blog About It Every Day
• Business of You: Brands and Bloggers
• What is "Pro-Woman" in a Post-Palin World?
• Advanced Social Media, Syndication and Stats

Huh?

The convention I had in mind would be much more about fun. In many ways, I feel I have found my “tribe” and now I just want to meet all of you. There would be massive socializing, lots of eating and drinking, sharing of ideas, toasting great posts and no gender requirements.

There would also be a few speakers and presentations just to keep up the pretense of a work connection so we could write off the expense.

Here’s how it’s playing in my mind.

The first thing I would do is have drollgirl and sallymandy up to my room for a wardrobe consultation. Working/not working from home for so long has left me fashion impaired.

Then on to happy hour where Lola is going to demonstrate how to make Limoncello and Eddie Bluelights will lead the conga line. While we’re feeling mellow and before we’re completely socko, Cormac will arouse our senses with a reading from his latest pulp fiction and Quirkyloon will bring us up to date on the threat of Zombies.

We’ll break into smaller groups for dinner, where I will meet up with Kathleen, Rudee, ds and DistractedBSO so we can catch up on private lives and I can finally learn more of the affection for keens, how to knit and resources for poetry and images.

After dinner is rabble-rouser time, so Vegetable Assassin and I will grab a Mexican brew and sit in her airstream goofing on people walking by.

For the next day’s presentation I haven’t fully thought out the agenda, but it could be something like this:

How to make world class videos about absolutely nothing.
- presented by Some Guy

Round table: Creating an international community within the blogosphere, for fun, not profit.
- Panel members: Woman of No Importance, LoriX5, Ribbon and Purest Green

How to create multiple posts every day while having a full time job and still having a life.
- presented by Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein

Irreverence/satire/irony – punch up your writing style with humor.
- presented by Comedy Goddess

Round table: Having fun with social issues.
- Panel members: Lakeviewer, Utah Savage, Lover of Life

Whaddya say? Are you in? Let me know your ideas so I can pull together a proposal for funding and send it off to those good folks at Blogger.

Photo: ComicCon image sourced through Google

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Six word Saturday

2009-07-25T09:50:00.003-05:00

Tossing my cares to the wind.

Six Word Saturday is hosted by Cate.

Photo credit: Reuters

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Unique perspective

2009-07-24T21:39:00.004-05:00

It's all about how we see things, isn't it?

Images were sent via email by my friend, Kathy/Vina; no photo credits were included.

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The test of time

2009-07-22T23:51:00.003-05:00

You’ve reached middle age
When all you exercise is caution.
~Unknown

This quote caught my eye because I have a birthday coming up. A BIG birthday. Gulp. Strange thing about time. It marches on without regard for our dread of aging.

Honestly, I do believe that age is a state of mind. So that makes me about 24. I would have said 18 but I wanted to get past the acne years.

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.
~Chili Davis

I am pretty darn conscious about taking care of myself. I try to eat well. (Uh, hang on a minute, I got ice cream on the keyboard. Ok. All gone.) I exercise regularly. (Hut, one, two.) And in the past couple of years I have added in some yoga stretches. (The corpse pose, the one where you lie on your back…that’s my favorite.)

The great secret that all old people share
is that you really haven't changed
in seventy or eighty years.
Your body changes, but you don't change at all.
And that, of course, causes great confusion.
~Doris Lessing

While I do admit to sometimes fretting about the wear and tear that the years have put on my body, I worry more about the loss of spirit. Of spunk. Of spontaneity. My body may be slowing down, but I want my heart to soar.

None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm.
~Henry David Thoreau

And so I think as a waking reminder, I will have painted on the ceiling above my bed, the word of God. (Well, at least he played God in a movie.)

You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.
~George Burns

Amen.

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I won! I won!

2009-07-20T16:14:00.006-05:00

Last week I received one of those chain emails that you are supposed to pass along to a certain number of people and your wish will come true. Typically I delete them, but this one had a picture of Mother Theresa and Pope John Paul II with a really nice prayer so I was pulled in. Come on, it was JP2!

My wish for financial reward is due to be granted at any minute.

This morning my horoscope gave me five stars. FIVE! Out of five.

Then this afternoon I found out I had won a blogger sponsored contest. The whimsical Purest Green at Scotland for the Senses has awarded me a copy of the cookbook, A Cook’s Tour of Scotland.

How cool is that! My mojo is back.

Winning the giveaway is exciting not only because I won something, but more so because I know very little about the foods of Scotland. And what do we do when there is something we know little about? Exactly. We google.

Now there are a few Scottish basics that I’m familiar with, like Shepherd’s Pie, Shortbread, Haggis and Cock-a-Leekie Soup. But look at the names of some other staples I found:

Arbroath Toasties
Atholl Brose
For Far Bridies
Bannocks
Parton Bree
Rumbledethumps
Roastit Bubbly-Jock
Toad in the Hole
Tweed Kettle

I don’t know what any of these things are, but aren’t they fun to say? Something I did notice. It appears that several of the Scottish recipes include liquor of some sort. I saw a lot of whiskey and Drambuie as ingredients. Maybe everyone got tipsy on the food and then came up with the amusing names.

With my Italian heritage, I’m seeing a thrilling new fusion forefront for the cuisine scene. Maybe Pyzahn Pie. Toad in the Pancetta. Amaretto Toasties.

At the very least, there will be a lot of “blethering”. And future posts. Stay tuned.

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Six word Saturday

2009-07-18T10:02:00.005-05:00

"Embracing the unexpected and kissing frogs."

For more fun, visit Six Word
Saturday hosted by Cate.

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Image came from an internet site which did not reflect photographer credits.

Mid-season review

2009-07-16T18:57:00.010-05:00

It's that time of year when garden's all across the flatlands -- and much of the U.S. -- are coming into their full glory. When the heat finally kicked in here, botanical life started accelerating and color began to sizzle.

It seems like a good time to do a mid point walk through.

Inspired by fellow blogger, Kathleen, who is having great fun with her new camera and turning out creative close up shots, I decided to capture my lovelies in the same manner.

Here's a photo review.

Mmmm, tomatoes. Either fried green, or caprese salad when they are red.

Fancy foliage geranium, whose real name I cannot remember.

Lovely, large sunflower with bumble bee.

Not a coleus, a Perilla, member of the mint family, but not edible.

Viburnum berries, soon to be a feast for the birds.

Fuzzy begonia, probably a member of the Rex family.

St. Francis with a Niko blue hydrangea.

I hope your garden is alive with color and producing a bounty. If not, stop by a farmer's market and support your local growers.

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To bed, perchance to sleep

2009-07-14T20:52:00.004-05:00

Have you ever gone to bed, dead tired, yawning like a yak and completely unsuspecting, only to have insomnia reach up from the depths of hell and wrap you in his torturous grip?

You lie there in the dark wrestling with the sheets. Tossing and turning, certain that if you just shift a bit one way or the other you will be comfortable, you will fall asleep. Roll to your side. Roll to your other side. Stare at the ceiling. Watch the clock.

Instead of slipping into a state of slumber your brain is jet fueled. You wonder, was it something I ate? Was it something I read? From there your mind wanders unprovoked into the murky waters of that nocturnal demon – the mindless stream of conscious chatter.

And you can’t shut it off.

Now restless leg syndrome kicks in. Literally. At first just a mild twitch. Then a more robust jerk. You stretch out your leg and jiggle it around hoping to shake off the unwanted movement. It doesn’t work. Now you are in a full on thrashing mode and innocent animal companions, one by one, cat/dog/cat, are catapulted from your bed.

It’s at this point that you sit up and scream: “For the love of God, please somebody just shoot me!!!”

And so it goes.

When other folks talk about insomnia and they say, “Oh, I couldn’t sleep so I got up and cleaned the house”….I’m torn. I don’t know if I admire them or I hate them. I refuse to let this beast force me into doing something productive. This is my time to relax, let go, be at one with rapid eye movement.

I am hopeful that tonight will be better.

Now, blessings light on him that first invented sleep! It covers a man all over, thoughts and all, like a cloak; it is meat for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, heat for the cold, and cold for the hot. It is the current coin that purchases all the pleasures of the world cheap, and the balance that sets the king and the shepherd, the fool and the wise man, even.
~Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote, 1605

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One singular sensation....

2009-07-13T19:49:00.004-05:00

I find this photo quite amusing. But....I think it needs a caption. Can you help me out?

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What's lurking in your closet?

2009-07-12T20:31:00.006-05:00

At some time in our life, we have all sprawled on our backs in the grass and looked for fun faces in the clouds. Did you know, though, there are mysterious beings lurking in your closet?

For more fun visit Mellow Yellow Monday hosted by Drowsey Monkey.

Photo credit: These images were pulled off a picture dump site and no photographer reference was given.

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Six word Saturday

2009-07-11T12:33:00.004-05:00

"Suspended in motion, always in thought."

There are many apples on this tree, but I saw this one hanging out there all alone. I think it's self preservation. The precarious perch keeps the hungry squirrels from gobbling it up. For now.

Visit Six Word Saturday hosted by Cate.

Client roster

2009-07-10T22:02:00.008-05:00

We’re all familiar with the wise advice, “Do what you love” and “Follow your bliss.” Well, the sinking economy in all its omnipotence has led me to do just that. With “real” work scare to non-existent, I have fallen into a fur pile of love and bliss.

For about the past five months one of my part time jobs has been walking dogs. Not only do I get to hang out with woman’s best friend, but I get lots of fresh air and exercise. An even bigger bonus, I’ve made several new best buddies. I’ve never had a job before where my clients were so happy to see me.

Because they have all become so special to me, I wanted to introduce them to you. In no particular order…

Roxy

The photo does not do this pretty girl justice. With a sweet face, soft eyes and a silky coat, she’s a heart breaker. And a big bundle of joy wrapped up in fur. When I walk her, her wagging body sings, “happy dog, hap, hap, happy dog.” If we visit the park, every now and then she will drop to the grass, lie on her back and wiggle in delight. I wish I could bottle her enthusiasm.

Lucy

Though she is strong as an ox, she has a really soft heart and can easily be a ‘fraidy cat. Lucy is smart as a whip. When I first started walking her, she showed me all the secret paths and short cuts in her neighborhood. She wants nothing more than for you to love her. Give her chest a scratch and her eyes just light up.

Taj

This big goof ball is Lucy’s side kick. They are best buddies as long as Taj lets Lucy be the boss. He will throw himself at your feet and whine frantically if you don’t give him enough attention. He really makes me laugh. I like to get down on the floor and rub his belly until he goes into a trance – kinda like a gator.

Lucy B.

She’s my baby. I started walking her when she was about ten weeks old and it has been such a pleasure watching her grow. At first she was all about biting and chewing, but now she’s much calmer and so alert. She cocks her head if she hears a bird or a plane. She loves to chase bees and butterflies. Sometimes she gets so excited she collapses into a tangle of her gangly legs, then pops up and pretends like it never happened. Oh, to live with such carefree abandon.

Bear

Technically Bear is not my client, he’s my neighbor. But his human works long hours so I take him for walks almost every day. This big palooka is 140 pounds of pure sweetness. And no one walks better on a leash then he does. I love watching him. While most dogs want to sniff everything, Bear is more of a visual observer. He looks at the world like he’s seeing everything for the first time.

Well, those are my clients, my friends, my teachers. I wish all of you as much boundless love as I get from these beautiful creatures.

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Urban oasis

2009-07-07T20:57:00.010-05:00

We’ve been given a gift. When I say we, I mean the city of St. Louis. And it’s an amazing, breathtaking gift. On what was formerly two long-neglected and vacant blocks is now an exhilarating urban oasis.

Three acres have been carved out of downtown and christened Citygarden. It features lush landscaping, contemporary sculptures, reflecting pools, water features, a plaza and a café.

The brochure says: “You won’t find walls or fences, admission fees or do not touch signs, because at Citygarden you are always free. Free to explore. Free to play. Free to feel inspired.”

Mission accomplished.

This incredible project was funded by the Gateway Foundation, a private philanthropic organization, for the reported price tag of $40 million. No one has ever given me a gift this nice!

The design and architecture are inspired. Creative, well planned, playful, inviting, and earth friendly. The native landscaping is laid out in three “bands” that represent the geographic features of the region: northern river bluffs, middle floodplain and southern river terrace. Brilliant.

The sculptures and artwork are far-ranging, exceptional choices that encourage touch and will appeal to all ages. Among the 23 pieces are works by Jim Dine, Keith Haring, Niki de Saint Phalle, Ju Ming, George Rickey, Martin Puryear and Jack Youngerman.

Come, follow me. Let’s take a quick walking tour.

The backdrop is very much a part of the experience. This oasis of green is surrounded by high-rise office buildings, many with their own outstanding design heritage. Facing to the east, the garden walk is punctuated by The Old Courthouse framed in the Gateway Arch.

This bronze piece by Igor Mitoraj has the feel of an ancient relic, except that is it large enough to walk into. To the front of the sculpture is a shimmering layer of cool water that offers relief for hot tootsies.

George Rickey never uses motor power for his sculptures. These stainless steel panels act like sails to capture the wind. When the wind decreases, gravity begins to exert pull. Very spontaneous, it’s fun to watch the movement.

Jim Dine admits to being intrigued by the story of Pinocchio. Like Geppetto, this painted bronze brings “a wooden boy” to life.

“Kiera and Julian Walking” was created by Julian Opie. He begins with a video of the two people walking and uses computer software to translate into moving LED panels.

Art can be found everywhere, even peeking through the trees. Here Mimmo Paladino is inspired by science and mathematics. This bronze horse becomes ambiguous with the addition of a star-shaped form that balances on his back. (Sorry, the star is barely visible.)

My favorite piece, until I change my mind, is this bronze by Ju Ming. It represents a Tai Chi basic pose known as Single Whip.

Just knowing there is a Keith Haring sculpture on a corner in my town makes me all goose-bumpy. This painted steel piece captures a feeling of motion with the bended knees making the figure feel like it’s about to spring forward.

There’s more… much, much more, but I think these images give you enough of a glimpse for you to agree Citygarden is a magical place and an remarkable gift. Unfortunately, my photos don’t really do it justice, but if you visit the garden Web site (by clicking here), you can get a lot more information about the design and the artists.

Or better yet, why not come visit and see it for yourself.

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Try it, you'll like it

2009-07-05T18:58:00.006-05:00

With the 4th of July behind us that means summer is in full swing and ...gulp ...one-third over. How did that happen? Before we blink and summer is gone, I thought I'd share one of my favorite light and fresh recipes that manages to maintain a high yum factor.

This is a fun twist on the traditional Italian panzanella salad and makes good use of those tomatoes and cucumbers starting to ripen in gardens. Plus with the unique twist of using cornbread I can sneak it in as a contribution to Mellow Yellow Monday.

Here it is. Beside being quite good, it's also very easy to make.

Cornbread Panzanella Salad

8 ounces cornbread, cut into cubes (about 2 cups)
1/2 cup halved cherry tomatoes (or cubed larger tomatoes)
1/2 cup cubed Fontina cheese
1/2 cup cubed cucumber
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl. Toss gently to combine and serve immediately

NOTE: I make one package of cornbread mix and that’s enough to serve 4-6 people as a side dish. Don’t add oil and lemon juice until ready to serve. Also, I use more than a ½ cup of tomatoes. You can add and subtract quantities to personal taste.

The lemon juice combined with the sweet cornbread and the creamy cheese comes together for a distinctive taste combination. The spicy basil and refreshing cucumbers brighten the flavor.

Unfortunately I cannot take credit for creating this recipe. I came across it one day as I pounded on the treadmill watching the Food Network. It's originator is Giada, the lovely woman with the beautiful smile. Or as my friend Riccardo refers to her, "The one with the cleavage."

Buon appetito.

Photo courtesy of Food Network.

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Land of liberty

2009-07-02T21:14:00.004-05:00

Myspace Glitter Graphics

Glitter Graphics

Glitter Graphics

Hurrah for the flag of the free!
May it wave as our standard forever,
The gem of the land and the sea,
The banner of the right.
Let despots remember the day
When our fathers with mighty endeavor
Proclaimed as they marched to the fray
That by their might and by their right
It waves forever.

The Stars and Stripes Forever
by John Philip Sousa - 1897

Have a safe 4th of July!

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So be it

2009-07-01T21:26:00.017-05:00

Many years ago I read books by “new age” writer, Shakti Gawain. She was an early proponent of creative visualization, a technique where you picture (visualize) what you want to manifest in your life. She also believed in the power of affirmations and an exercise called Treasure Maps.

Before Shakti was Norman Vincent Peale. Currently it’s a gaggle of gurus whose beliefs in the Laws of Attraction were made popular by The Secret. Their act of “attracting” uses a similar technique, but I think they call it Vision Boards.

Whatever the name, the premise of the exercise is that you take images of objects, events, goals, that your want to create in your life and make a collage of sorts.

I’ve decided to take the fun – and the power – from the physical world into my virtual world. Here’s what I am creating in my life….here and now.

While I am a lover of great design, I will be the first to admit I have no fashion sense. I am fabulous at criticizing what others wear, but when it comes to dressing myself, I am a fashion “don’t”. So… I'm seeing a few days with Stacy and Clinton who transform me into a savvy fashionista. And they also supply the moolah.

Just once in my life before age makes it an impossibility, I want to have an occasion where I can wear really high, really cool, really expensive shoes. Pictured here is a yummy pair from Christian Louboutin.

I have modest tastes. When it comes to a home, I am a bungalow gal. I see myself in a smashing Arts & Crafts house with clean lines, bright rooms and great character.

Wherever the house may be, it comes with a tranquil garden. A special place just outside my door that welcomes me with green, green, green serenity.

While I don’t have many material wants, I do covet great art. I am not haughty enough to believe I will ever own a Gauguin or a Matisse or a Hockney, but I do treat myself on occasion to a local artist. My true love is folk art. Pictured here is a painting ("Catbird") by St. Louis artist Theresa Disney. Her whimsical style tickles my fancy.

I have become a real homebody and haven’t been traveling much. These days I prefer a weekend retreat to lengthy trips. BUT…there are still several places I am going to visit. Around 1989 I planned a trip to Yugoslavia, then canceled at the last minute. Good thing because war broke out. These days the country is called Croatia…and it still calls to me. Amazing history matched with shimmering beaches sounds magical.

Since I’ve moaned about it enough, you probably know I currently don’t have a “real” job. My background is marketing but I am open to new possibilities. No, I don’t want to be an astronaut. Oprah says the universe plans bigger things for us than we do for ourselves. So I am throwing open my arms to embrace what the universe has in mind for me.

I have never carried in my DNA the gene that cries out for a spouse. But that doesn’t mean I am opposed to having a fabulous guy in my life – best friend, intelligent humorist, kind soul – yes, my co-pilot. Oh, yeah, he’s tall.

Last but not least, financial stability. I don’t need to make “Fortune’s” list of billionaires, just steady cash flow with enough for a few frills. I have been visualizing generous amounts of cash in my bank account. Just today I found eight bucks on the sidewalk. See how fast this works!

If you’ve hung in this far, you are a true blogger’s friend. Now clear your mind. Visualize a tall, dark haired woman of Italian descent living in the flatlands. She is surrounded by all the lovelies outlined here. She is smiling. Now she’s waving. And she’s sending back to you bright flowing energy.

So be it.

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All photos sourced through Google images.

Enough said

2009-07-01T10:00:00.001-05:00

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Sacred sightings

2009-06-28T21:05:00.007-05:00

I came across this photo a few weeks ago and filed it away thinking it would make an interesting subject for Mellow Yellow Monday.

A woman in South Wales was surprised one day when she opened a jar of Marmite and found an image of Jesus in the lid. I suppose the vision is in the imagination of the beholder. I think it looks more like Ted Nugent, but to each their own.

Anyway, it nudged me into an Internet search for Sacred Sightings and it seems if you can find a holy image you can make yourself some extra cash. And in these tough times, a little entrepreneurship can go a long way.

Here are a few other discoveries that paid off.

A man in Australia over heated some lemon mustard cream sauce and stirred up the face of Jesus in his fry pan. He sold it for $80.

A woman in Toledo, OH, scorched a pierogi creating a doughy face of Jesus and it sold for $1800 on E-Bay.

Yet another lucky woman in Florida saw the face of the Virgin Mary in a grilled cheese and she quickly sold in on E-Bay to an online casino for a whopping $28,000. (That’s not a typo.)

If you haven’t had the good fortune to come upon your own miracle, there is a way to create a righteous bank account. Available online you can purchase a stencil kit which includes the tools and directions for you to imprint a holy image on the item of your choosing.

The tortilla seems to be a popular choice. For fun or profit. (No prophet joke intended.)

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Sparkly cat

2009-06-25T11:17:00.001-05:00

Add Glitter to your Photos

If you've read my masthead, you know that I am a self professed luddite. On occasion, though, the technology bug bites and I lose all track of time playing with a new gadget or widget.

My current distraction is Blingee. I am having way too much fun adding sparkly crap to photos. Warning: If you have a picture of yourself posted somewhere, you could be next!

This is my cat, Lola. Once a dignified feline, she is now the "Queen of Glitter and Gunk".

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High tide

2009-06-24T19:10:00.003-05:00

Everyone of us is called upon, probably many times, to start a new life. A frightening diagnosis, a marriage, a move, loss of a job…And onward full tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore. To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another – that is surely the basic instinct…Crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is.

--Barbara Kingsolver, from High Tide in Tucson

I recently came across this quote from Barbara Kingsolver. It reminded me how much I love her writing. Whether it’s one of her perceptive essays or her beguiling novels, it’s easy to get lost in her words.

It’s officially summer, the unofficial season of reading. Grab a book. Tickle your mind. Nourish your soul. Savor the written word.

What’s on your reading list?

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Summer in the city

2009-06-23T20:48:00.003-05:00

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck gettin' dirt-'n'-gritty
Bend down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
All around people lookin' half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match-head
-- Summer in the City

This sculpture caught my eye today as I was driving about. I spotted the zaftig woman in The Loop, a popular area in University City. She was relaxing quite comfortably in her birthday suit in front of Meshuggah Coffee House.

She must have been sitting there for a while because no one seemed as intrigued by her as I was. Maybe it was because she just looked appropriate -- today the heat index was 110 and taking your clothes off sounded like a fine idea.

There was a sign nearby that told her presence was part of the U City outdoor sculpture series. I bow in gratitude to this community because they are big supporters of public art.

No, I don’t know what happened to her foot. I’m not sure if it’s part of the artist’s statement, or a rotten act of vandalism. But I think it adds to her offbeat charm.

Hmmm,she needs a name. Any suggestions?

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My mojo is not working

2009-06-22T22:57:00.004-05:00

Does anyone remember the popularity of the theory of biorhythms?

All the rage in the 80s, this theory claims that one’s life is affected by rhythmic biological cycles. There are believed to be three processes governing human behavior through a predictable period of time. Each “rhythm” has a different cycle as follows: physical/23 day cycle, emotional/28 day cycle (sound familiar, ladies?) and intellectual/33 day cycle.

Through this time period, the rhythm flows up for half of the cycle, then down for the last half. Flowing up is good, flowing down not so much. And as the cycles intersect each other, a co-mingling of biorhythms takes effect. If they are all coming down at the same time --- whoa! – look out. Blame is placed: “Ugh, my biorhythms are down.”

Well, folks, at this moment in time, my biorhythms are in the toilet.

On occasion, actually about every seven years, I go into this energy backlash where weird stuff happens. Mostly it’s mechanical. Time pieces stop. Light fixtures fall out of the wall. Equipment breaks. I also experience very cross people. In general, bad juju. My mojo is out of whack.

The highlights this go ‘round: My DVD player stopped functioning. The air conditioning condenser is making a high pitched whine that could top the list of Dick Cheney’s torture methods. A fuse that controls the clothes dryer blew out. I had a day where Blogger wouldn’t load photos. My ear phones for the health club cardio equipment just vanished. Poof. Gone. A vintage lamp in my office fell over breaking a large globe. Sigh. Enough is enough.

Except there’s still the part about cross people. In the past ten days I have received fines for three traffic violations. Two for speeding, where my breakneck pace was clocked at a whopping 31 and 36 MPH. Then today as I walked back to my parked car, a very large, gruff meter maid was giving me a ticket. My sin? The meter had been expired for three lousy minutes. Honestly, there should be a good faith grace period.

Friends of the Blogosphere send me your light and positive energy. Biorhythm defense mechanisms wanted. If you know any incantations, pass them along. Light a candle. Call on a saint. Chicken bone rituals or magic spells – I will not scoff.

I just want my mojo back.

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Welcome aboard

2009-06-21T22:23:00.005-05:00

I suppose every city and town has a special place in their community. A hang out spot or fun attraction with a unique cachet that creates magic. Somewhere that brightens your day when you think of going there or brings a smile and a sigh when you arrive.

In St. Louis that place for me is The Boathouse. Located in magnificent Forest Park, it offers views of rolling green space over the horizon of a large lagoon. There are paddle boats for leisurely floating through the waterway. Rocking chairs situated dock side offer reverie while you sip a glass of wine. And dining tables line the edge of the water.

On weekends you can listen to live music. In the fall they bring in a fire pit to extend the outdoor season. During cold winter months, friends gather around a large stone fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate.

The Boathouse has a long history in this town. When I first started going there about fifteen years ago it was nothing but a shanty with a rustic kitchen. You could order a hot dog or a burger and a brew or soft drink. Tables were mismatched and haphazardly placed about.

The dock was wooden and creaky and strung with remnants of Christmas tree lights. Bands would play from a splintered deck and too much algae grew along the banks of the water. It was wonderful.

Then the powers-that-be decided to do a face lift. I was mortified. How could anyone want to replace such a charming, beloved landmark? But every now and then progress gets it right. A delightful main building reminiscent of a Midwestern cottage was constructed. New, safe docks were anchored properly. The menu was expanded and families of ducks and geese set up residence.

Here are a few photos. From all the bright golden glows you will realize that this makes a perfect entry for Mellow Yellow Monday.

What’s the favorite spot in your neighborhood?

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Calling all coffee lovers

2009-06-18T21:03:00.007-05:00

Oh how I love a good cup of coffee. Even in tough economical times, when I’m cutting back on everything, I refuse to buy inferior beans. I consider good coffee a sound investment.

Contemplating life over a cup of coffee improves your outlook. A robust brew after dinner is the perfect way to savor a great meal. Mornings, especially dreary ones, are a whole lot brighter when you can smell the wafts of java coming from the kitchen.

Like I said, a good investment. And after years of health bashing, coffee is now thought to improve your cognitive skills, prevent heart disease and breast cancer, and extend your sex life. (Actually, I just threw in that last one to get your attention.)

So imagine my delight when I read a story about an online roaster who allows you to create your own blend. Their MyBlend feature takes you through a quick quiz to determine your individual taste profile and then a custom product is developed just for you.

My coffee identity: A mild acidity complemented with nutty earthiness and a full, smooth body.

Even better…they have a specially priced MyBlend package through the month of July. You get two 12 oz. bags, plus two 2 oz. sample bags, for $24.98, with free shipping. (I swear they are not paying me to write this.)

The company is called The Roasterie and you can order through their website by clicking here. To add to the golly-gee factor, you can name your blend and personalize the label by uploading a photo.

I haven’t yet received my personal brew so I can’t critique their product, but judging from their website they seem to take coffee roasting very seriously. As well they should. They also have a wide variety of branded blends, including organic and free trade.

What’s your coffee identity?

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Another good reason to recycle

2009-06-17T20:49:00.007-05:00

Trips to the grocery store are pretty uneventful – coffee, chocolate, bananas -- and don’t stir up much anticipation for an interesting excursion. But as I pulled into the parking lot of the Shop & Save the other day, my eyes lit up.

This is why:

Behold the Tag Wagon.

Now while some of you are thinking…”What the heck?”….I was girlish in my enthusiasm to see this movable art in my neck of the hood. Luckily I had my camera with me and I just circled the wagon clicking and smiling and shooting and grinning.

I love folk art. Outsider art. Primitive pieces. Work that exhibits unrefined creativity, that flaunts whimsy and explodes with ingenuity. I am thrilled with the rawness of it. Unpretentious. Childlike. Quirky.

I got to meet the artist as he loaded groceries into the wagon. His name is Jim Shores, he’s a self taught, from Rome, GA, collects found objects for his pieces, loves what he does. He says on his website, “When I finish a piece, and it makes me smile, I find that it often has the same effect on others and that warms my heart.”

You warmed my heart, too, Jim. And made my day.

Here are more photos of the Tag Wagon and a couple other pieces by Jim.

And Jim asks that you all... “Please recycle.” Your junk could wind up in his art.

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Household Hint #2

2009-06-15T19:47:00.007-05:00

HH#2: If you have hungry wildlife in your neighborhood, do not put food on your window sill.

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Last week I baked a birthday cake for a friend. Taking the hot pans out of the oven I placed them in the kitchen window so they would cool down quickly. Then I took the dog for a walk.

When I returned a slight noise caught my attention. My senses were on alert but nothing seemed amiss, until I went to check on the cake.

A hungry squirrel had eaten a hole in my screen in hopes of reaching the chocolaty goodness. Fortunately, I must have scared him off. But as you can see from the photo, his work was in earnest. I put a lemon on the sill for this photo so you could have a means to judge the size of the gaping hole.

There was so much screen missing I couldn’t help but wonder: did he eat the wire mesh or did he bite and spit, bite and spit?

I’m pretty sure the guy who did this is the one pictured below.

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…and other junk type magic.

2009-06-14T19:25:00.017-05:00

Are you feeling cranky?

That takes on a different meaning at a funky store located in the alternative arts area on Historic Cherokee Street in St. Louis.

Cranky Yellow is a one-of-a-kind, hard to describe retail establishment that bills itself as “shop, gallery and performance space.” I asked the shop steward the origin of the name and with a shrug that implied he’d been asked many times before, he said the owner used to have a grouchy neighbor with jaundice. Ahh. Inspiration comes from unique sources.

Lucky for me because it’s a perfect offering for Mellow Yellow Monday.

The merchandise is hard to describe, but some of the treasures named on their web site include: paintings, prints, kooky films, folk-art, apparel, plushies, zines, vintage curiosities, carnival toys, animal skulls, found objects, trinkets, strange lamps, pop religious icons, little boxes, driftwood, cool antiques, bits of broken things, doll parts, 80's euphoria, masks, cute-crap, and other junk type magic!

See for yourself.

Original apparel, granny lap blankets and ginormous soft sculpture.

Object d'art and kookie stuff.

Crap glued on crap and yellow lambs.

Hostile self promotion.

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What the.....?

2009-06-12T22:35:00.003-05:00

Can you spot the photoshop error? (Hint: It's circled.)

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A hopeful addiction

2009-06-10T21:36:00.009-05:00

Okay. I admit it. I’m a flower-aholic.

I have an addiction to all things growing. Sometimes controllable. Sometimes not. If a flower is pretty, sweet, colorful, new, funky or any number of other qualities, I can’t resist.

I worry that the affliction could be akin to hoarding. But I don’t have 49 cats. Or rooms full of newspapers stacked up to the ceiling. So it could be worse. It could be illegal. Or I could be hanging out in dark, smoked-filled rooms gambling with thugs named Ace and Manny. Or drinking Thunderbird from a paper bag.

Good news: I work part-time at a nursery so I get to see all the lovely flowers as they come from the grower. Bad news: I work part-time at a nursery so I get to see all the lovely flowers as they come from the grower.

I love planting tried-and-true flowers that I grow every year and know will perform well. I also love mixing in new varieties to see if they’ll make the latest list of favorites. Every spring I say I’m going to pace myself so I won’t over indulge and be broke by the time the heat lovers come in. You guessed it. That never works. But I buy the heat lovers anyway.

This year, even though it’s been wet and cool, I have some pretties growing in my garden. Here are a few:

This new variety of begonia is called “Big Bronze”. Begonias have come a long way in the past few years and this beauty is proving to be a WOW. The flowers are profuse and enormous.

Thankfully dahlias are now available already growing, and in a small pot with an affordable price. This “Mystic Illusion” is not your grandma’s dahlia. I love the dark, dramatic foliage, especially as it’s growing here against the bright creeping jenny and paired with the striking “Splash” coleus.

I am partial to old fashioned flowers like these zinnias. This year I’m growing them in pots placed on my back steps. That way I get to look down on the colorful flower heads.

How cool is this? This remarkable allium is about the size of a soccer ball. It’s fun to watch it grow to its full glory and when done blooming it’s a wonderful dried specimen.

In the past few years I’ve become quite enamored with small succulents. I don’t know the name of this one, but you can see how charming it is.

This corner of the patio is my peaceful area...a nice place to sit surrounded by overflowing pots. One of my favorite shade plants is the “Perilla”, which is the tall dark foliage plant behind the impatients. The bright pops of purple belong to the often over looked browalia which is a reliable shade bloomer.

Well, that’s a slice of my heaven. Remind me I said that when I’m bitching about slugs or fungus or some other ailment. Until then, I remain a hopeful gardener.

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Goodbye my friend

2009-06-08T19:33:00.005-05:00

Today I had to make the hardest decision of my life. But the vet said it was time. As rotten as it was to hear, I trusted his advice – and my instincts – and said goodbye to my best friend for the last fifteen years.

The past ten months have been pretty rough. After living an absolute robust life, Murphy’s body just seemed to start failing him in bits and pieces. The sheen went from his coat. His eyes were clouded. And one by one the body functions declined.

I’m a little too sad to recount everything wonderful about him, but if you click HERE ("A special someone"), you can read a tribute I wrote last year when I realized the end was near.

Below are a few photos. I chose sparingly from the dozens and dozens I have stashed away in albums. My nickname for him was “Handsome”, but his beauty went beyond the visible. I hope he’s at peace and running through fields chasing rainbows.

********************************

The early days, just plucked from a rescued litter.

The sassy teen years, all legs and spunk.

The handsome man, sweet, feisty, loyal.

Goodbye my friend.

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P.O.V.

2009-06-07T22:13:00.008-05:00

"Hey, bozo, get out of my flight path!"

Isn't this just the coolest photograph. Unfortunately I can't take credit for it. And I've had in my photo file for so long I don't remember the source. But I love the stop action. I love the perspective. And I really love the look on the bird's face, like he's staring down the photographer.

Plus, there's just enough yellow in it to make it a fun choice for Mellow Yellow Monday.

I hope your week takes flight....and soars.

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Salute to freedom

2009-06-04T21:48:00.003-05:00

It’s Thursday night. Which means it’s almost Friday. But that means Wednesday snuck by me and I missed a Hump Day post. Since it’s almost the weekend, who cares? If you’re reading this that means you made it past the hump and you’re ready for a TGIF salute to freedom.

Freedom from alarm clocks. Freedom from professional attire. Freedom from demanding bosses and nosy co-workers.

I wish you two colorful days of wackiness, creative expression and good humor. All of which I believe are wonderfully conveyed in this fabulous photo.

Rock your weekend. Let loose and get a little crazy. Make a fish face at someone you love. Do whatever makes you happy.

And what would that be?

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Fab fashion from the flatlands

2009-06-03T20:08:00.003-05:00

Whodathunk?

The Midwest is a not a hub for style trendsetting, nor a fashion mecca, so I was surprised when I found this story which combines not only a fashion statement but amazing creativity as well. This lovely young woman created her tres cool prom dress from coffee filters.

Really.

I saw a picture posted on a news site and when I googled her, realized she was from the St. Louis area. The following story was lifted from her school’s online newspaper.

***********************

Who would have thought coffee filters could be used for clothing? Aimee Kick, a senior at Francis Howell North High School, knew she wanted to wear a dress that would not only be elegant and fashionable, but one-of-a-kind at her senior prom.

Aimee spends a lot of time at coffee shops in her spare time and has become known as the “the girl with a coffee cup,” which was the inspiration for her dress.

Aimee knew that she wanted to wear something creative, but after eliminating fabric her options for material were limited. She considered vegetables, tea bags, stamps, bubble wrap, and aluminum foil, but found that these items were perishable or not durable.

Being able to dance was an important factor in the final decision for the material, but she needed to be able sit and breathe comfortably, as well as be able to make and complete the dress in a reasonable time frame.

“When I really started to notice how into making the dress I got was the day before a large (and tedious) research paper was due. I kept saying to myself, ’Just finish the paper and then you can work on the dress as much as you want,’" said Aimee.

Aimee spent about a month on the entire project; folding and cutting as well as staining, dying, sewing, and hand blow-drying the coffee filters. According to Aimee, she sometimes spent six hours or more a day on the dress.

“Each and every filter is sewn onto a fabric base that I made. Most filters have multiple seams over them, save for the bodice, which was all hand sewn,” said Aimee.

At times this was a little difficult because she has never used coffee filters to make clothing, but she was very motivated to complete the challenge.

“I am very inspired to use different materials, so it was more of a stimulating challenge than a difficulty,” Aimee said.

*****************************

You rock, Aimee. Hope the prom was a blast.

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A fierce wind blows

2009-06-03T09:36:00.005-05:00

Spring storms are nothing new in the flatlands, but this year has seemed wetter and windier than most. Maybe it's because my memory is shot and I can't recall the seasonal tempests from years past. Here are a few pictures of what yesterday's weather brought us.

A view from the inside.

A view from the outside.

The winds actually blew off the side of a downtown hotel.

Clouds that look pretty menacing.

Storms here are very spotty. You can have severe damage in one neighborhood and nothing a couple of miles over. I was in the Central West End just as the storm broke. I stepped out of a high rise building (which I swear is built on a vortex) and almost got blown down. As I was reaching for a tree to hug, I watched a HUGE dumpster roll past me. Honest. But as I walked the two blocks to where I was parked, the winds diminished and I could drive with only minimal shaking of the car.

Typically the winds don't bother me and I love a good thunderstorm. I lived in California for a few years and was constantly in fear of earthquakes. When I told friends I was moving back to the Midwest, they cried in horror..."But they have tornadoes there!"

To each their own.

From the storm shelter, this is Pyzahn reporting on weather in the flatlands.

Photo credits: St. Louis Post-Dispatch

NOTE: No, this isn't my house. It's about five miles from where I live.

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This is a test

2009-05-28T12:52:00.003-05:00

Remember when your teachers used to say…”Okay students. Take out a piece of paper. We’re going to have a pop quiz.” You groaned, you mumbled, you scrambled for paper, you cursed under your breath because you hadn’t paid attention in class or read the assigned chapters.

None of those worries here. No cursing necessary. This is a fun test. No paper or pencils required.

Take a look at the images below and decide…..are they moving? Or are they still?

How about this one?

The images are used to test the level of stress a person can handle. The slower the images move, the better your ability to manage difficult situations.

Criminals that were tested said they saw the images spinning madly. However senior citizens and kids saw them standing motionless.

For the record, none of the images are animated. They are perfectly still.

I’ve got to admit, I think it’s a good measure. I tried it this morning when I was leisurely preparing for the day and the movement was minimal. I viewed them again this evening after a crazy afternoon and there was a lot more dancing going on.

And you?

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Better late than never

2009-05-27T21:42:00.010-05:00

I’ve always been a late bloomer. Things just seem to come into my life a lot later than they do for most other folks. That’s not a complaint, because I agree with Bob Dylan “…I believe that things are handed to you when you are ready to make use of them.”

Yeah. That Bob Dylan. And he’s one of those “things” that has come to me later in my life.

I came of age when Dylan was roaring his way across the music world. He was always in my orbit, but being the shallow teen that I was, I gravitated more to The Beatles (because they were cuter), The Monkees (because they were funnier) and Jim Morrison (because he was more mysterious).

Dylan has become more front and center to me over the last ten years. During this time I’ve come to realize he’s more than a gravely voice. Even more than a celebrated poet. He is a non-stop wunderkind. Do you think you know his stats?

Well, here are the highlights:
- Released 44 albums in the last 46 years
- Sold more than 110 million albums
- Written over 500 songs
- His music has been covered by more than 3000 artists ranging from Duke Ellington to Bob Marley
- Won Academy Award and Golden Globe for “Things Have Changed”
- His memoir was on the NY Time bestseller list for 19 weeks
- Won a special Pulitzer Prize for “his profound impact on music…and extraordinary poetic power”
- As a visual artist he created a collection of drawings and sketches (a couple of which are featured on this post) and had them published.
- Was named a Commandeur dans l’Ordre des Art et des Lettres, the highest cultural award in France (where he is revered)
- Currently performs more than 100 concerts a year

As you may have noticed, I’m currently embroiled in a Dylan love fest. Better late than never. I think he has probably had an impact on most people at some point. So I’m curious – how, when, where -- did he touch your life?

Bonus Question: If Elvis is The King. And Springsteen is The Boss. Shouldn’t Dylan have his own superlative handle? Your nomination, please.

*********

To jog your memory, some Dylan lyrics are below. I’ve chosen more popular songs in hopes you will hear the music in your head.

Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right

Forever Young
May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young.

Blowin' In The Wind
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
.....
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Let It Be Me
I bless the day I found you
I want my arms around you
And so I beg you: Let it be me.
Each time we meet, love
I find complete love
Without your sweet love,
what would life be ?
So never leave me lonely
Tell me that you love me only
And say you'll always let it be me.

Just Like A Woman
She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.

Blue Moon
Blue moon, you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.

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It's here, again

2009-05-26T23:12:00.010-05:00

How'd that happen? Here we are coming up on Hump Day again. Where did the past week go? I guess that means we need something to smile about.

Oh oh. Somebody is fed up with social networking.

Well, times are hard so creativity counts.

Here lies the most picked-on man in history.

Well this fellow found something to smile about.

Gosh. Am I naive or what? I was looking for a way to end this post so I googled Hump Day thinking I'd find a fun quote. The results were not what I had in mind. Now before you all go running off to google that for yourself, please give me something to smile about and leave a PG rated comment.

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Very clever indeed

2009-05-24T20:06:00.004-05:00

Created by Brazilian artists Anderson Augusto and Leonardo Delafuente, this fun painted storm drain is one of many that have now turned the streets of São Paulo into popular tourist attractions.

A very clever work of art just perfect for Mellow Yellow Monday.

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Thanks for your service

2009-05-23T22:03:00.007-05:00

Memorial Day, formerly known as Decoration Day, was created to commemorate U.S. men and women who died while in military service. I think though, and rightly so, it has become a day to recognize all veterans.

My dad was a veteran of WWII. That’s his picture here….looking all handsome and snappy and devil-may-care. He was so proud to have been a soldier. He didn’t talk much about the action he saw, but he did talk about the men he served with.

His platoon remained a tight group. That band of brothers. They would hold reunions every couple of years to keep their friendship strong and once when they had a gathering near where I lived, I went out to meet his buddies.

Dad was a different person when in the company of his fellow soldiers. There was a light shining through him. A pride that just radiated from his eyes and broadened his smile. Whether they were talking about the war or grandchildren, there was a potent bond -- the knowledge they had been through something together that was important, and powerful, and ever lasting.

My dad passed almost four years ago. I think of him every day, but it’s on Memorial Day that I am awash in a special respect for him. I channel that pride he radiated. As I put out the row of small flags on my lawn today, I realized that he also instilled in me a fierce sense of patriotism.

From the editorial cartoons below, it seems as though there are others who share my appreciation for Memorial Day.

The next time you have the opportunity to be with a veteran – or a currently enlisted soldier, sailor, marine, or guardsman – thank them for their service. A salute would be nice, too.

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The gang's all here

2009-05-21T22:47:00.009-05:00

The May television sweeps are over and drivel has returned to the tube. Ordinary drivel, not the blockbuster, hyped stuff we’ve been seeing for the past four weeks. I wanted background noise as I did the dishes so I clicked through the channels and hit a bonanza.

West Side Story.

Oh, stop wincing. This isn’t ordinary musical theatre, this is Bernstein and Sondheim retelling the story of Romeo and Juliet. With amazing choreography by Jerome Robbins, timeless songs and score, cultural differences, forbidden love…and the Jets and the Sharks!

I can remember as a kid dancing through the house (when no one was around), snapping my fingers and singing:

When you’re a jet/
You’re a jet all the way/
From you first cigarette/
To your last dying day.
When you’re a jet/
Let them do what they can/
You got brothers around/
You’re a family man.
(snap, snap)

Honestly, I don’t know how I remember those lyrics. I don’t think there is another song, other than maybe a couple of Christmas carols, where I know more than one line.

Whenever I’m in a really low mood and trying to convince myself that things are looking up, I always seem to find myself humming…

Something’s coming/
I don’t know what it is/
But it is/
Gonna be good.

How many millions of girls, young and old, have stood in front of a mirror singing:

I feel pretty/
Or so pretty/
I fell pretty and witty and bright.
And I pity/
Any girl who isn’t me tonight.

And how could you not tap your toe, shake your shoulders, and get your groove on when the Puerto Rican gang and their girlfriends gather on the rooftop at the dance to musically debate the benefits of living in the U.S.? The colors, the swishing skirts, the men in tight pants! Relive the thrill by clicking here to see Rita Moreno lead the fun in a rousing rendition of “America”.

I’m going to skip over the sad parts, because I think the ending is truly gut wrenching. Let’s just remember the pleasure of it. Play the songs in your head and tell me… what’s your favorite? Sing it for me!

Jet Song
Something’s Coming
Maria
America
Somewhere
Tonight
I feel Pretty
One Hand, One Heart
Cool
Gee, Officer Krupke

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From me, to you

2009-05-20T10:38:00.008-05:00

It's Wednesday. Often known as "Over the Hump Day". By about 3 p.m. this afternoon hardworking folks across the planet will be itching for the weekend. While I can't make time move any faster, I thought maybe a chuckle or two would make Hump Day a little brighter.

Below I have posted photos of Hollywood types in a series called:

What celebrities would look like if they were regular people.

Gwyneth Paltrow

Leonardo DiCaprio

Nicole Kidman

Jon Travolta

Gwen Steffani

Johnny Depp

Pamela Sue Anderson

See! Now don't you feel much better? Who's your favorite?

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The truth be told

2009-05-19T22:44:00.004-05:00

Your votes have been cast and it’s time to reveal how badly I lied and which silly incident really did happen in my life. (Spoiler Alert: If you’re just logging on, please see previous post before reading further.)

1. This is a half truth – which, of course, makes it a lie. I did work with film crews at Sea World. The Captain Kangaroo Show did indeed film on location there for a couple of weeks. And even though the Captain was a bit of a pistol, he did NOT make untoward advances while I was working in his trailer.

Personally I thought the part about fending him off “with a ball point pen” was quite creative. Thanks to Distracted by Shiny Objects for choosing this one because, she said,…. “who would make this up?” I take that as a compliment.

2. Sadly, this is also a half truth. Yes, George was in town for a couple months filming “Up in the Air”. (Watch for it later this year.) It took everything I had not to stalk him. He did frequent a certain pub. I was never there and therefore could not have been rewarded with a Limoncello from him. Sigh.

3. And by process of elimination, that makes this one – the story about the icky hickey – the truth. Good news is I got the job….and got rid of the boyfriend. That swap worked out in my favor.

Thank you all for playing along. I’d love to hear your truths and lies. I’ll be watching for your stories.

Photo credits: George Clooney on location in St. Louis. Captain Kangaroo in a network publicity shot. Sorry, no photo of the hickey is available for viewing.

Two lies and a truth

2009-05-18T19:39:00.006-05:00

Recently I was tagged by the lovely Kathleen at Easy for me to say. Her zany meme is called “Two Truths and a Lie.” The idea is to list three things that “supposedly” have happened in your life: two of them truthful, one of them not. Then lucky readers get to join in the fun by guessing which is which. Sorry, no prizes are given. Just the honor of being really smart and somewhat psychic.

Unfortunately I could not recall two interesting truths that were worth writing about. Keep in mind Kathleen was a reporter and she hung above a Nuclear Power Plant and interviewed hoodlums. All my truthful memories were either salacious or silly.

So I took the liberty of changing it to “Two lies and a truth.” I guess I’m better at making up wacky stuff than living it.

Here are your choices:

1. When I worked at Sea World I was in charge of coordinating film crews at the park. For two weeks, the gang from Captain Kangaroo shots several episodes on location. One day when taking supplies to the trailer of the Captain, his libido was running amok and he made an icky pass at me. I fended him off with a ball point pen.

2. For the past two months George Clooney has been in St. Louis shooting his next film, “Up in the Air.” Don’t want to say I stalked him, but I did happen to wander in to the pub where he was rumored to hang out. Mr. C was on premise. I offered up the most obscure Clooney trivia and he rewarded me with a shot of Limoncello. Alas, he did NOT make a pass at me.

3. Several years ago I had a big job interview coming up. The night before my bozo boyfriend got ridiculously frisky and his hormonal mojo resulted in a love bite on the neck. I had to go to the interview with a sophomoric hickey in sight. Scarves were not in style at the time.

Well, those are sordid episodes from my life. Or are they? Truth or lie?

Glorioso formaggio!

2009-05-17T20:47:00.007-05:00

Say cheese! Or in this instance…formaggio. Il meraviglioso mondo dei formaggi (the wonderful world of cheese). Could there be any better way to welcome Mellow Yellow Monday than with a big hunk of parmigiana reggiano?

I think four of the saddest words are: “I don’t do dairy.”

This abundanza display of cheese is from the legendary Volpi market. In St. Louis there is a venerable Italian district known as “The Hill”. Charming, parochial, historic, this neat-as-a-pin neighborhood of shotgun houses and adorned Madonna statues thrives as a throw-back in time that’s steeped in heritage.

Let’s take a walking tour.

The reigning merchant triumvirate consists of Volpi’s, the salumeria, Viviano’s, the general market, and Missouri Bakery, the celebrated shop for sweets. Mixed among them are sandwich shops, elegant restaurants, sidewalk cafes, bocce courts, the local catholic parish, bars, ball parks and the best coffee roaster in St. Louis.

Volpi is America’s oldest manufacturer of authentic Italian meat products that have been hand-crafted for three generations by accomplished salumieri. Exclusive family recipes, spice combinations and curing methods have brought Volpi global success. Mmmm, I love their pancetta.

Viviano’s food and wine market is always a beehive of activity. On any given Saturday it’s not unusual to stand in line at the meat/cheese counter for over an hour waiting to place your order. Here is their bill of fare.

This aisle in Viviano’s is fully stocked with imported tomato products, and fancy pastes like anchovy and black olive. They have amazingly affordable prices on olive oil and vino!

The sugared almonds provide a spot of color. These bring back such great memories from my childhood when I felt so grown up eating them. I loved sucking off the sugar and biting into the crunchy nuts.

The Missouri Bakery draws people from miles away. Their Italian bread flies off the shelves and their famous cookies are sold by the pound. My favorite treats are the custard filled cream puffs and the old fashioned peanut roll.

One of the many, many Madonna statues that are found in almost every yard on The Hill. This one is a wee bit more glitzy than most. At Christmas they have a neighborhood display of nativity scenes along with some really sparkly holiday decorations.

If you’re parched after this tour, you can head over to Rigazzi’s for a frosted fish bowl of beer, or maybe to Milo’s to “drink the wall” and play some bocce. Ciao. Enjoy your week.

Bacon: The love story continues

2009-05-12T14:42:00.005-05:00

A few months back I researched and wrote a post about the fascination with bacon in the blogosphere. Ever since then, it seems like everywhere I turn, the bacon phenom is running amok. Is it just me or is everyone – blogger or not-- suddenly coming out of the pantry and professing their love for fatty fried pork?

Recently I read a review for a new book entitled: Bacon – A Love Story. Don’t run out to buy it though. Below is an excerpt from the review.

“…Probably like many of you, I am fortunate to know some really fantastic writers; I find it disheartening that it’s so difficult for them to get published and find a wide audience. After reading Heather Lauer’s ode to bacon, I am intellectually offended that my friends remain in obscurity while this drivel is given a major platform. Do no contribute to the dumbing down of America; do not read this book.”

- Dennis Lowery, Sauce Magazine

The two bacon fusion foods that I see a lot are Chocolate Bacon and Bacon liquor. So I did a little more research and am happy to present these recipes to satisfy the porky palate.

Chocolate Bacon Bark
Ingredients:
• 12 ounces good-quality semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 7 large strips of bacon, fried until crispy
Preparation:
1. Prepare a baking sheet by lining it with aluminum foil and set aside for now.
2. Place the chocolate in a microwave-safe bowl and microwave in one-minute increments until melted, stirring after every minute to prevent overheating.
3. While the chocolate is melting, chop the bacon strips into small bits. Set aside approximately one-third of the bacon to be used to top the bark.
4. Once the chocolate is melted and smooth, stir in the remaining two-thirds of the chopped bacon, and stir until the bacon bits are well-incorporated.
5. Pour the chocolate onto the prepared baking sheet, and with an offset spatula or a knife, spread it into a thin layer about 1/4” high. While the chocolate is still wet, sprinkle the top evenly with the reserved chopped bacon and press down gently to adhere it to the surface.
6. Refrigerate the bacon bark to set the chocolate, about 30 minutes. Once set, break it into small uneven pieces by hand, and serve immediately. Chocolate Bacon Bark can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a week.

Bacon Bourbon
750 ml bottle of good bourbon
3-4 strips of bacon

Cook bacon and keep a fluid ounce or so of the rendered fat, letting it cool but not solidify. (Eat the bacon.) Pour the fat and bourbon into a glass jar and let it sit for a few hours.

Put greasy jar of bourbon in the freezer overnight. The next day, skim the congealed fat off the top. If you’d like, you can also pour through a coffee filter.

If the food gods are with you, the bourbon will now taste and smell distinctively like bacon.

Drink it neat, or make an Old Fashioned with this recipe.

Bacony Good Old Fashioned
2 oz bacon bourbon
1/4 oz maple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir with ice and pour into an ice-filled rocks glass. Garnish with a twist of orange. Enjoy.

Please, if anyone tries any of these (or has already tried them), let me know the results. I merely pulled them from the Web and cannot attest to their worthiness for satisfying pork lovers.

If you want to see where my journey began, you can find it under Will blog for bacon.

Photo credit for Chocolate Bacon Bark: E. LaBau

Don’t worry…be happy

2009-05-10T18:43:00.006-05:00

Hello. It’s Monday. Let’s all be mellow as we greet the new week. Hopefully one of the following “silly-isms” will bring a grin to your face, maybe a chuckle, maybe a groan.

- Save the whales. Collect the whole set.
- On the other hand, you have different fingers.
- I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.
- 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.
- I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.
- I wonder how much deeper the ocean would be without sponges.
- Honk if you love peace and quiet.
- Despite the cost of living, have you noticed how popular it remains.
- He who laughs last thinks slowest.
- I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol.
- I intend to live forever - so far so good.
- Borrow money from a pessimist - they don't expect it back.
- If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?
- Support bacteria - they're the only culture some people have.
- A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
- Change is inevitable except from vending machines.
- Get a new car for your spouse - it'll be a great trade!
- Plan to be spontaneous - tomorrow.
- Always try to be modest and be proud of it!
- The hardness of butter is directly proportional to the softness of the bread.

Check out other contributions to Mellow Yellow Monday.

Illustration (above) by Mary Engelbreit, who I am proud to say lives here in the flatlands.

Late night love

2009-05-07T21:12:00.003-05:00

“If eyes are the window to your soul, then how come it hurts when I spray them with Windex?”

- Stephen Colbert
................................

Geez, I just love Stephen Colbert. In the opening montage of his show when he does the little turn, points his finger at the camera and looks ME right in the eye, I get all tingly inside.

Oh, Stephen, with razor wit
For hours I could sit
And watch you mock the world.
You slice
You dice
Exasperate
Everyone else is second rate
To the smarts you impart with style.
With a twinkle in your eye
Smiling, rakish yet sly
Nothing is untouchable.
With raised brow
And pencil jab
An innocence exudes.
Build them up
Then rip them down
No mercy for the dude….
or dudess.
At 10 PM C.S.T.
The hour that you come to me
I feel my heart expand with fondness sure.
Oh my heart, be still I beg
I cannot help but wonder what his legs
Look like in shorts.
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Last night Stephen Colbert challenged Richard Branson to a duel. Stay tuned.

The truthiness will set you free!

Thanks for the memory

2009-05-06T10:00:00.003-05:00

While I never really followed the career of Dom Deluise, I do have a fond memory of him because his chubby face was engraved in my brain during a wretched experience.

When I was twenty I had my tonsils taken out. Now if you think it’s a rotten procedure for a kid to go through, try having the surgery as an adult. Yowza. That whole play-up about eating all the ice cream you want is a bonafide myth. The thick stuff just would not go down my swollen, raw throat.

Where Dom comes in is that my doctor looked just like him.

The morning of my operation a nice nurse gave me one of those “twilight” shots. No, nothing to do with teen vampires, but rather a sweet drug that put me into a lovely, mellow state of mind.

Then I was loaded onto a gurney and rolled down many long hallways toward the operating room. Lying on your back, staring up at the ceiling lights is a most interesting sensation when you’re loopy on drugs. I remember saying a couple of things to the nurses that brought shocked looks and a stern “Shhhh.”

In the O.R. with a strange bustling going on, Dr. Dom leaned over me and smiled that silly Dom smile. Like watching a bad Ed Wood film on acid, his large floating head was both a horror and a giggle at the same time.

Dr Dom: “Say good night”

Pyzahn: “But I’m not sleepy.”

Dr. Dom: “Say good night..and then count backward from ten.”

Pyzahn: “Okay, but I’m not sleepy. Ten, ni…..z-z-z-z.”

Next thing I know I was in a semi-conscious state, with a fiery throat and thinking, “Ah, they won’t do the surgery if I’m sick.” My eyes opened. I was back in the hospital room and my Mom was looking worriedly at me.

After a few minutes of disorientation, I croaked out: “I gotta pee.” Still pumped from the drugs and before my Mom could stop me, I jumped out of bed. I made it a few steps before I collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor as Mom struggled to keep me upright.

You know, when you faint, you really do see stars. Just like in the cartoons. I went down in a wondrous celestial blaze.

It was a protracted recovery, more miserable than the strep throats that often plagued me. I had nightmares that included projectile vomiting. I was pitiful and felt sorry for myself.

If it hadn’t been for Dom Deluise and the vision of his large head looming over me, this sad tale would have no humor element whatsoever.

A walk in the park

2009-05-05T21:04:00.007-05:00

It was a glorious day in the flatlands. The weather has been so dismal recently that waking up to sun streaming through the windows is an instant happiness maker.

Thrilled with the sunshine, I decided to treat my younger dog, Nelson, to a walk in the park. The older dog is going very slow these days and when I walk them together I know it’s frustrating for Nels to just poke along.

Turns out, though, the walk was a wonderful jaunt for me as well. I live only about a mile from Forest Park – one of the largest urban green spaces in the world. Sadly – and shame on me -- I don’t often take advantage of the proximity.

The park is amazing, so I’ve decided to do a little tourism show and tell, sharing a tiny slice of my city. St. Louis gets a bad rap for being a ho hum, blue collar town and in actuality it is a relatively wealthy, cultural hub. Someday I will do a pictorial on our neighborhoods to showcase the diversity, architecture and grandeur.

The photo above is a shot of one leg of the Lagoon. It’s a charming, small lake that is bounded by the Art Museum, the Muny Opera, the Spanish Pavilion, and the History Museum. On a warm day you can find large turtles sunning themselves on the rock wall, egrets swooping in for a fish, or happy adventurers gliding by in a paddle boat.

A few years back when I was taking a quiet stroll along the edge of the Lagoon, I looked across the water to see a young woman boldly photographing a man who was stark naked, standing tall with legs spread and arms in the air while wearing a really bad black fright wig. Interesting. And you thought St. Louis was a prudish town.

This is the Spanish Pavilion, one of the last remaining structures from the 1904 World’s Fair. Just recently the fountain was restructured to the elegant, pristine design you see here. It’s perfect in it’s simplicity to complement the intricate architecture of the pavilion.

Behold the Great Basin. This waterway sits at the foot of the magnificent Art Museum. The slope that rises up to the museum is known as Art Hill and it sees a lot of sledding action in the winter. In the fall, at the base of the hill, with the basin in the background, the world renowned St. Louis Symphony plays a free concert under the stars. It’s always a crisp, magical evening that finishes with a blaze of fireworks.

I don’t think it’s hard to figure out who this is. He exhausted himself and depleted his fluid reserve by raising a leg on every shrub and stump in the park.

My photos don’t really do the park justice. The sun was so bright it has washed out much of the color and my cheapy digital camera wasn’t designed for beauty shots. You can, though, get an idea of why I’m thrilled to be so close to this wonderful place.

That concludes the slide show portion of this posting.

Something to consider

2009-05-03T18:42:00.005-05:00

This contribution to Mellow Yellow Monday is not as lighthearted as past posts, but considering the current hubbub about swine flu, it is time appropriate.

What you are seeing in the photo is the image from a thermal scanner. This one was set up in the airport in Indonesia to screen travelers for body heat – which translates to having a temperature. There was not an accompanying article, but I’m assuming if you were radiating heat, you would be detained or confined or whisked away.

I’m happy to relay information from an editorial that appeared in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Instead of jumping on the media fear frenzy, the article took a step back with a different approach. Here are the highlights:

“Frightening though the risk may be, it’s also important to keep the numbers in perspective. Consider these risks…”

Annual seasonal flu deaths in the U.S.: 36,000
Shark attacks in U.S. waters (2008): 59
Annual deaths from food-borne illness: 5,000
Accidental poisoning deaths (2004): 23,618
Estimated deaths from being uninsured (2006): 22,000 to 27,000
Diabetes deaths (2004): 73,138
Heart disease deaths (2004): 652,486
Annual tobacco-related deaths U.S.: 438,000
Motor vehicle accident deaths (2004): 43,667
------------------------

It’s a wacky world we live in. Be safe. Stay healthy.

Photo credit: Bay Ismoyo/Getty

Awww, shucks

2009-04-29T21:33:00.003-05:00

Hanging out in the blogosphere continues to be more fun than I ever imagined. Where else can you be creative, expressive yourself and peruse at random the stomping grounds of talented writers, photographers, artists, etc.

An additional bonus is getting to know other bloggers who share their talent and deliver unexpected friendship.

I am blushing with girly delight at having received a “Friendly Blogger” award from the delightful d.s. at Third-Storey Window.

Twice before when honored with awards I was too shy to pass along the good fortune. But now I want to recognize a few cyber friends who have extended considerable kindness to me.

First to Sandie at Quirkyloon and Marvin at Free Spirit because they were there from the beginning to offer support and patiently answer questions. Grazie, merci, many thanks.

And then to Kathleen at Easy For Me to Say and Lola at AGLIO, OLIO & PEPERONCINO. They are gracious, lovely women – both so talented – who take the time to grace my blog with their insights, wit and wisdom.

I would have also given the award to Distracted by Shiny Objects, but she’s already been distinguished as a Friendly Blogger by another admirer. I just wanted to let her know I appreciate her amazing sense of humor and her incredible poetic spirit.

Go forth, all my fellow bloggers, and spread your talent and kindness. There can never be too much of either in the blogosphere, or in the world.

Zombie Haiku, do you?

2009-04-28T22:34:00.004-05:00

Pop culture fads and trends are generally short lived, but this Zombie craze seems to just keep rolling on.

A very imaginative young man named Ryan Mecum has crossed cultures by taking this walking corpse phenomenon into the Zen world of Haiku. He even creates in the voice of some of our favorite writers and poets. Such as:

by Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle
into that zombie plagued night.
And take the shotgun.

by Sylvia Plath
From head to black shoe,
daddy, I had to eat you
because I’m starving.

by Robert Frost
Two lobes in the skull.
I eat the bloodier one –
not much difference.

by e.e. cummings
if anyone lived
in this wretched how town (they)
would be soon eaten.

by Emily Dickinson
I heard a fly buzz
when I became a zombie.
That was one loud bug.

by Walt Whitman
Every skin atom
form’d from this soil, this air,
tastes like chicken meat.

by William Shakespeare
To bite through the skull
or beat it against the wall?
That is the question.

And our favorite song writers/recording artists:

"Earth Died Screaming" – Tom Waits
Blood is really warm.
It's like drinking hot chocolate
but with more screaming.

"Via Chicago" - Wilco
I know he can't see
because the room is pitch black
and I have his eyes.

"My Father's House" – Bruce Springsteen
Thinking about dad
makes me think of better times
but then back to meat.

And then he takes contributions from friends:

If zombies smoked pot
maybe they would skip the brains
and settle for cake.
- Doug Benson, writer and comedian regularly seen on Best Week Ever

Veins and brains are tough
Stringy bits catch in my teeth
Chew well, then swallow
- Jeff Mariotte, author of River Runs Red and 100’s of wonderful comics

You are my desire.
Eating your luscious love thoughts
My Junk Just Dropped Off
- Christopher Moore, author of many great books including You Suck: A Love Story

If this just leaves you wanting more, you can visit his web site at “Zombie Haiku” where you can read more excerpts and even see his homemade TV commercial.

The fun continues....and your Haiku contributions are welcomed.

I'll have what you're having

2009-04-27T20:06:00.002-05:00

Hmmmm. What do you think they are ordering?

"I love you man"

2009-04-26T19:33:00.004-05:00

Ahhh. Isn’t this just about the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. Not to pawn my prejudiced opinion off on you, but really. A cat grooming a dog. Doesn’t happen everyday.

This is Murphy and Vinny….the early days. Vinny came to live with us as a wee kitten when Murph was about a year old. Even with the difference in size, they became very good friends. I have some video of them wrestling that is amazingly entertaining. Vinny pouncing around like a baby roo and Murph in the downward dog pose egging him on.

Everyone can use a smile to start the week , so I offer them up as my contribution to Mellow Yellow Monday.

Murph is part golden and I refer to Vin as a yellow tabby, though I suppose he’s more orange. He does have vibrant yellow eyes, however. I think that puts the color requirement in order.

The boys lived in wonderful, playful harmony for almost a year. Then a young jezebel Calico named Lola came to live with us. She caught Vinny’s fancy and the bromance went to the back burner.

Now it’s the female feline that gets the grooming, the mischievous romping and all the love. Can’t say that I blame Vin though. As you can see, Lola Palooza, with her moon pie face, is quite a beauty.

Tickle me with vernacular

2009-04-24T22:44:00.006-05:00

I am fascinated by language and in the past have written a couple posts about it. My enthrallment with the origins of verbal communication is boundless and the process of how words were created boggles my mind.

I mean think about it. Were two cavemen walking along when one picks up a round heavy object and says, “Let’s call this a rock.” How did all the other cavemen (and women) know that decision had been made?

I’m sure there was a natural progression and I suppose I really need to do more research. But for now I continue with my fancy of the vernacular, the lexicon, idioms and more.

There is a fun Web site dedicated to phrases and their origins. You can even sign up for "Phrase of the Week." Below I’ve stuck in a bit of the quiz found on the site. Check it out and see how much you know.

'Umbrage' was first
A type of medicine
A town in the west of England
A shady area

'Woe is me' was first used in
Chaucer's Canterbury Tales
Shakespeare's Hamlet
The Bible

'Humble pie' was
The first meal served to monks after Christmas
A variant of 'umble pie', i.e. a pie made from innards
Named after the Victorian stable keeper James Humble

'A cock and bull story' originated
In France, with the term cock a l'ane, meaning fanciful story
From cock fighting terminology
At the Cock and Bull coaching inns in Buckinghamshire

'Rack and ruin' derives from
The names of the two jesters at the court of Henry VIII
A variant of 'wreck and ruin'
A reference to sunken ships, which became covered with bladderack seaweed

'Currying favour' derives from
A variant of 'carrying favour'
The name of a mythical French horse
The flavouring of curry

'Run Amuk' comes from
The Old English for 'run a mile'
The Norse word 'runeamic' meaning pillage
The Malayan word 'amok', meaning frenzy

'The green-eyed monster', referring to jealousy comes from
One of the seven deadly sins
Shakespeare's Othello
Thomas Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd
The Incredible Hulk

'Namby Pamby' was
A nursery rhyme character
A soft cheese
A parodying name for the poet Ambrose Philips

'Left in the lurch' comes from
The French card game lourche
A bride left jilted at the church's lych gate
Left for dead at the side of the road
The name of a prison cell in the Tower of London

You can find the answers to the above by clicking here.

What’s your favorite phrase?

Sensitivity and perception?

2009-04-23T22:16:00.006-05:00

Recently while cleaning out some old boxes, I came across my scrapbook from high school. Yes...way, way before the scrap booking craze. No fancy borders or cutesy flowers. Just pictures, articles, programs, etc. scotch taped very haphazardly into a big ledger.

In my junior year the school started a creative writing class for handpicked students. I'm not sure what the criteria was for selection, but I was very excited to be chosen. It meant I would be in a class that was half seniors. In the day that was a very big deal.

It seems we had an assignment to write poetry and somehow a couple of my creations got published in the local newspaper. Reading back over them now, I've decided that I was a sad mixture of pretentious and weird.

Continuing with the theme of smiling (or laughing out loud), I'm offering up my early work to the blogosphere.

Life

Life is but a carousel
where the world seems to go around.
But it's not the world --
it's we.

Some of our riders are light
and easy to bear;
Others are heavy --
they burden us with grief.

We must carry our passengers
and appreciate our joys,
for soon the carousel will go
no more.

Death

I ride my pony swift and fast,
but I cannot escape
from savages who challenge me
and shoot and stab and rape.

My hour has come, and death I fear
will soon make dust of me.
It's closing in!
It's getting near!
Oh, God, help me to flee.

I fell it hit my body now;
it pierces swift and fast,
and where I see it clear --
the flag is at half mast.

It's very dark now where I am,
but do not mourn for me.
For fear has gone far, far away,
and I am finally free.
..................

Eeegads. It's even more mortifying when I type it out and reread it. Something about seeing it in newsprint made it appear less embarrassing. For what it's worth, here is what the paper said about the poems.

Pyzahn, a junior in the Creative Writing class, is one of the students who shows great promise. Her pair of poems, "Life" and "Death" exhibit sensitivity and perception as well as a competence in the use of words and phrases.

I swear the "critic" was not my mother.

Please feel free to share your poetic masterpieces here.

Smile and the world smiles with you

2009-04-21T20:57:00.001-05:00

I've never seen a smiling face that was not beautiful.
~Author Unknown

My man Travis

2009-04-19T17:03:00.004-05:00

For many years, I’ve had it bad for a tall, tan, sandy-haired guy with pale grey eyes. His name is Travis McGee and just thinking about him makes me smile….a mischievous, world weary, be-still-my-heart smile.

Travis is an intelligent, introspective man. One of the things I like best about him is that he loves – and respects – women. You know you would be safe with him. He works as a salvage consultant, which is similar to a bounty hunter, except he finds things instead of people.

Typically that work puts him in direct contact with mean folks who like to bully, swindle and cheat already down trodden people. So what fuels Travis is honor, obligation and outrage.

Unfortunately Travis is a work of fiction. He came from the imagination of John D. MacDonald. But fortunately, that allowed me to have a satisfying relationship with McGee for over twenty years. I probably couldn’t say that if he was flesh and blood.

MacDonald is also a hero to me -- a legend in writing circles. Respected, honored, copied, critically-acclaimed and successful. His career spanned decades, including 21 McGee novels, and his work elevated the genre of crime novels. He’s known to have influenced admirers from Elmore Leonard to Stephen King to Jimmy Buffet. And his books challenged the changing landscape of Florida long before the general public was conversant with the concept of environmentalism.

As my contribution to Mellow Yellow Monday, I’m featuring the cover of MacDonald’s novel, “One Fearful Yellow Eye”. All of the McGee novels contain a color and I’m happy to say, I have every color published.

Additionally, I dedicate this post to my fellow blogger and crime writer, Cormac. He doesn’t list MacDonald on his blog and I want to change that.

……………
A short excerpt from “One Fearful Yellow Eye”:

I have to keep remembering at all times that sweet little old lady on the veranda in Charleston, South Carolina, the one who told me the story of her life in a sighing little voice, story so sad that my eyes were misty and my voice thick by the time she shot at me with the Luger she was holding in her lap under the corner of her shawl. The slug took a little bit out of the side of the collar of my white shirt and exposed a dime-sized piece of blue necktie.

For a minute there...

2009-04-16T21:30:00.006-05:00

I was just glancing through the TV Guide and I saw a listing for a program called "Heli-Loggers". My heart skipped a beat. For a minute I thought it said, "Hell Bloggers".

I think I'm spending too much time on the blog roll.

I can’t help but wonder

2009-04-15T10:22:00.003-05:00

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about prayer. Mostly about form and content.

Being raised Catholic, I was brought up with the recitation format. Many “Our Fathers” and “Hail Marys”. A whole lot of the “Acts of Contrition.”

The first time my Baptist cousin said grace and began speaking extemporaneously, I was startled. I remember curiously peeking out at him from my bowed head. I was surprised by the intimacy of praying from the heart instead of reciting someone else’s words.

Today I wonder what weight is given to the choice of our expression, the duration of our request. Does substance matter? Does repetition provide impact or rise above the clutter?

Honestly, this curiosity has come about because typically I pray, as part of my ritual, before I go to sleep. The problem is I usually fall asleep before I finish my prayers. Or my A.D.D. addled brain skips off to a different thought. So I can’t help but question if I’m short changing the people I’m praying for.

Is it enough to ask, “Please watch over So-in-so”? Or do I need to elaborate? Once I make my request, do I need to make it again? And again? Is there power in repetition? Are my own words better than a practiced prayer?

Yes, as I write this I realize I’m over analyzing. I know in my heart it’s the intention that matters. It’s my head that’s whirling with wonder.

The introspection is sincere. I have a curious beast within that is looking for nourishment. Will you share your thoughts and practices?

Faux fashion week in the flatlands

2009-04-14T11:07:00.009-05:00

A couple of years ago my good pal, Deni, gave me one of my favorite birthday presents ever. Not a big thing. But quite thoughtful and packed with fun. It was a packet of paper dolls. Not an ordinary doll, though. It was a reproduction from the Queen Holden collection first published in the 1920s that eventually sold over 28,000,000 copies.

And the most exciting part….the doll she gave me was named “Pat”. Hint: Pyzahn is not my real name.

How cool is that?

Little Pat came with a full wardrobe of era appropriate clothing, with tabs on each garment marked in her name. I guess if you had multiple dolls back in the day you would need to keep their clothes separate.

The other morning when I should have been walking the dogs or running errands, I decided to stage a fashion show. I know I’m a bit late for Fashion Week, but Little Pat deserves her moment in the spotlight.

Pictured above, “L.P.” is wearing traditional light weight wool coat. The simple design and navy color depict the classic style of the times. It’s topped by a delightful cap that frames the stylish pig tails. Her bare legs look cold, but fortunately the snowy background is only a paint-by-number picture.

Here we see “L.P.” showing off her striped party dress. I wanted her to twirl for the camera, but those little paper legs don’t offer a lot of movement possibilities. Did you notice that the dapper red hat is fashionably monogrammed with her name? (Styling note: the sweet calf was carved by my father!)

Ready for a tea party or coloring in her book, this perky yellow number trimmed in blue is a perfect accent for her eyes. Thanks to an unexpected breeze, you can also get a peek at the frilly pantaloons. The cats are quite chic themselves in their hot red bow ties.

Trends are fashionably mixed here – the wide leg pant made famous by Kathryn Hepburn and the lederhosen suspenders favored by Heidi. This comfortable, yet stylish romper is perfect for a cool day at the beach. More the Hamptons than Big Sur.

For a walk in the spring garden, a pretty-in-pink frock is matched with a classic cardigan. Notice the versatile blue cap comes into play again making this a complete fashion package. But if “L.P.” picks my flowers again, she’s going back into the box for a very long time out.

Thanks for attending the Little Pat fashion show. If you have any interest in acquiring paper dolls of your own, you can find them at B. Shackman & Co, who also makes charming Victorian valentines, Christmas ornaments, vintage masks, etc.

The colors of spring

2009-04-12T20:45:00.006-05:00

Springtime in the flatlands finds the landscape brightened by colorful pansies. They are the “go to” flower for the cool spring months. You can find their happy, open faces framed by almost every shade of color found in nature.

While I love them all, and want them all, I always end up buying the brilliant yellow ones. I put them in pots on my back steps where that splash of sunshine can be frequently enjoyed. As I exit the garage for my house, they seem to dance in the breeze and offer a friendly “Welcome home.”

Today I feature them as my contribution to Mellow Yellow Monday.

For the past ten spring seasons I have been lucky enough to work part time at a sweet garden nursery not far from my home. For those two months, it is without a doubt the best job to be had. I’m outside in the sun, enjoying fresh air, playing in the dirt and talking about plants.

The discount on flowers is also a definite perk. By the end of the season, typically I have made just enough money to pay for what I purchased. The new stuff I learn and the friendships I make are an especially satisfying bonus.

Also pictured here are my back porch pots, which along with pansies, contain lovely linaria. And the rose-like beauties are ranunculus. All of these plants are what we refer to at the nursery as DBJs – dead by June. Nursery humor. But the sad fact is that their tender anatomy cannot tolerate the summer heat of the flatlands.

Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy the colors of spring. Maybe not quite yet, but soon.

An easy mistake to make

2009-04-11T09:57:00.003-05:00

When a paparazzo tried to photograph the 12-year-old daughter of actor Woody Harrelson, Harrelson went after him. After a chase through New York's LaGuardia Airport, Harrelson smashed the paparazzo's main camera and stormed off, all of it was caught on video.

When asked for an explanation, Harrelson said he mistook the paparazzo for a zombie.

Splendor in the grass

2009-04-09T18:46:00.006-05:00

We are very fortunate here in St. Louis to have one of the finest botanical organizations in the country. Maybe even the world. The Missouri Botanical Garden is a National Landmark, the oldest botanical garden in the US, and a world leader in horticulture research. There are 79 acres of magnificent gardens and rare botanical collections.

Can you tell I’m proud?

We were even more fortunate a few years back to have a world class exhibition of work by the master artist of glass blowing, Dale Chihuly. He was commissioned by the garden to design and install work created specifically for this location.

And it was spectacular.

I’m thinking of it this Easter week because visiting the installation was similar to the thrill of an egg hunt. As you walked the grounds, you just never knew what you were going to find or when another amazing piece of glass sculpture was going to appear.

Designed to work into the environment, glass art was nestled among moss, floating in ponds, hidden in rocky crevices, bursting from grasslands, hiding in a water falls, Just when you thought you’d seen the best, another dazzling piece would present itself.

Now I love an overflowing Easter basket as much as the next person, but this experience was even better than chocolate bunnies.

Here are a few images of the dramatic installations.

Happy Easter. Joyous Passover.

You could be here

2009-04-07T18:48:00.008-05:00

As we all grow weary of the winter weather, our hearts and minds start daydreaming about a great summer getaway. As you envision yourselves lying on a beach or snoozing in hammock, I’d like to plant a different thought.

A few years back I took one of my most memorable vacations ever. I can’t think of anyway it could have been more satisfying. Blue skies, amazing scenery, natural wonders, fresh air, good food and great people.

My inner most animal (and nature) lover led me to one of the most magical places in the great southwest – Best Friends Animal Sanctuary – located in Angel Canyon in the heart of the Golden Circle in southern Utah.

Best Friends is indeed a sanctuary. Encompassing a five mile spread carved out of the beautiful red rocks, it is home at any given time to about 2000 animals. Dogs, cats, birds, horses, pigs, goats, burros…all are given the opportunity to live out their lives in peace and good health.

Our volunteer vacation started each day with a four hour shift working in one of the dog dormitories, feeding and walking about 15 dogs. I was nervous about the thought of visiting a “shelter”, but Best Friends has done an amazing job of making sure their creatures enjoy a wonderful life. No where did I encounter an animal that looked unhappy.

But it wasn’t all work. After lunch in the employee cafeteria, we would head out for an afternoon of hiking in one of the nearby magnificent national parks that create a ring of natural bliss known as the Golden Circle. Bryce Canyon. Mt. Zion. Lake Powell. The Grand Canyon. All are within an easy drive from the sanctuary.

But enough with the jabbering. A picture is worth a thousand words.

This is the view from the employee cafeteria. It is natural beauty as far as the eye can see. Best Friends was fortunate to acquire the land about 20 years ago when it was affordable. With all this land they were able to develop distinct areas of the sanctuary for different species, allowing all to thrive in harmony with their surroundings.

This is a view of one of the hiking trails in Bryce Canyon. Get in shape before you go. The walk down is a piece of cake, but coming up is another matter. Even if you just dawdle at the top, it’s a spectacular slice of scenery. And the lore of the Hoo Doos is quite charming.

As a girl from the flatlands, I was fascinated by the southwestern flora and fauna. Magnificent trees would pop up out of sand. Wild flowers hung to the side of rock hills. Blooming cactus were brilliantly colored.

This could go on forever, but some famous comedian once said,”…leave them wanting more.” For information on visiting the sanctuary,you can click here. Or if you can’t visit but want to see some happy faces, click here.

If you go, let me know just how wonderful it was. If you have any questions, leave it under comments and I will get back to you.

Happy tails. (Yes, that’s a pun, not a typo.)

p.s. The smiling face pictured at the top is a resident of Best Friends

Pucker up

2009-04-05T19:42:00.009-05:00

As a salute to Mellow Yellow Monday, which I discovered by visiting the blog of the lovely Lola, I thought I would post a (somewhat) yellow recipe.

Lemon desserts signal the beginning of spring for me. Light and fresh, with a dash of sass to brighten your day. This Lemon Pudding Sponge Cake is easy to make and it’s doubly delicious because as it bakes it becomes cake on top with a layer of pudding underneath.

It’s absolutely yummy warm out of the oven, but I also love it cool from the fridge when the tart taste of lemon just smacks you in the taste buds. Get ready to pucker up.

With Easter just around the corner, this would make a nice addition to the menu. It only serves six, so if you’re having a large group, you will need to make two. The top of the cake is relatively plain looking, but if you top it with berries, it is quite lovely. I like it with sliced, juicy strawberries, but blueberries or raspberries would be equally nice.

Hope you like it.

Lemon Pudding Sponge Cake

1 C sugar
1/4 C unsalted butter at room temp
2 t. finely grated lemon zest
3 eggs at room temp, separated, yolks slightly beaten
1/4 C all purpose flour
Salt, just a pinch
1¼ C milk (not fat free)
1/2 C freshly squeezed lemon juice
Fresh berries, optional

Position racks so that the cake will bake in the middle of the oven, preheat to 350. Generously butter an 8” square pan or a 1½ quart baking dish.

Combine in a bowl the sugar, ¼ C butter, lemon zest and beat with an electric mixer at medium speed until creamy, about 3 minutes. With the mixer still running, slowly drizzle in the egg yolks and beat well. Stir in the flour, salt, milk and lemon juice. Set aside.

In a metal bowl, with clean beaters, beat the egg whites at medium speed until they form peaks that are stiff but still moist. Stir about one-fourth of the whites into the batter to lighten it. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the remaining whites. Pout the mixture into the prepared baking container.

Place the cake container on a rack set in a large, deep baking pan and transfer to the oven. Pour enough hot (not boiling) water into the large pan to reach about halfway up the side of the cake container.

Bake until the top cake layer is set and lightly browned, about 45 minutes. Regulate the oven temp during baking to maintain water at simmering stage (water should not boil).

Remove the cake from the water bath to a wire rack to cool slightly, then serve warm with berries.

Meeting of the minds

2009-04-02T18:15:00.009-05:00

If you are of a certain age, you might remember a wonderful show from the late 70s called Meeting of the Minds. It was created by the extremely talented Steve Allen, who was also the originator of The Tonight show. Personal opinion: the guy was amazing.

Cited by one critic as “the ultimate talk show”, the premise of the PBS program was interviewing historic figures, typically with Allen hosting in a round table format. Guests included the likes of Plato, Thomas Jefferson, Marie Antoinette, Charles Darwin, Cleopatra, Karl Marx – obviously with actors portraying them.

Allen would research the heck out of each “guest” and create dialog based on factual historic information, using exact quotes when possible. I think the concept was genius and it just blows my mind how he would pull such diverse characters together and make all this history/dialog not only work, but be extremely relevant.

So that got me to thinking, if I could host a dinner party with anyone, living or not, who would I invite. Here’s my guest list. Black tie optional.

St. Francis of Assisi: With my love of animals, this is a no brainer. He’s also the patron saint of the environment and Italy making him a triple threat. He championed the poor, creatures great/small and nature, so in today’s sad state of affairs, I think he would speak well to the current ills of the world.

Golda Meir: She brings political experience from a woman’s perspective. Known to be strong-willed and straight talking, I believe she would be a smart, informed dinner guest.

Joseph Campbell: His philosophy is often summarized by the phrase coined by him, "Follow your bliss". A background in studying the human experience makes him a great addition for the social chemistry. I think his intelligent curiosity would keep conversation flowing.

Mary Magdalene: She is one of the most complicated biblical women and historians vary greatly in their writings of her life. I’d like to get the real story. Plus I wanted someone from the life of Christ but I think Jesus himself would be too distracting.

That’s a serious group. I think I need to lighten it up a bit. So…

Dorothy Parker: The mix definitely needs some spunk and Dorothy is a good old broad, in the best sense of the word. She’d probably try to bed St. Francis, but the rejection would lead to a fun story. Her language would color the evening.

Stephen Colbert: I wanted a contemporary figure and his probing sense of humor would also shake things up. Can you see him interviewing Mary M! Plus, I have a crush on him so it’s self serving.

There are so many compelling choices and I probably have room for one or two more guests. Any suggestions? Or maybe you have put together a party of your own. Don’t make me guess…whose coming to dinner?

In the beginning…

2009-04-01T09:49:00.005-05:00

R. Crumb, the cartoonist famous for creating Zap Comix and Head Comix has just finished his latest project. It’s a massive retelling of the first book of the Bible….”Robert Crumb’s Book of Genesis”.

Crumb is an American artist and illustrator recognized for the distinctive style of his drawings and his critical, satirical, subversive view of the American mainstream. He was founder of the underground comix movement and is regarded as its most prominent figure. Not a typical choice for a biblical work.

But this ain’t no April Fool’s joke. The wild, wacky, dissident spent four years on the project which is to be published in October. He was quoted as saying:

“It’s a lot of fun doing Genesis, actually, It’s very visual. It’s lurid. Full of all kinds of crazy, weird things that will really surprise people.”

I haven’t seen or read any Crumb work in a long time, but this should be very interesting. And if you haven’t seen the documentary on his life, it’s well worth the rental.

And God saw that it was good.
Genesis, 1. 10

Self indulgence

2009-03-31T10:32:00.009-05:00

I’ve had too much time on my hands.

Add to that a return of ugly weather, throw in the lack of work and before I knew what was happening, I fell prey to inertia. That sorry state where lethargy takes over. And apathy roams freely. Where responsibilities are ignored (home, garden, animals) and where the good stuff gets forgotten (friends, family, following your bliss).

It’s a pitiful mode and it’s gotta go.

So now that I have ‘fessed up to being indolent, I can move on. It’s time to return to a place of gratitude -- the powerful state of grace that can transform the ordinary into the glorious.

I’m going to be a little self indulgent here. I need to refocus and it always helps me to be more efficient in my life if I write stuff down. I am by nature a “glass half empty” gal, so I need to work hard to reprogram my outlook.

Instead of making a roll call of the blessings in my life, I’m going to use photos to illustrate. Images will help me reinforce the bounty. I’ll stick to the highlights and not bog this blog with the minutiae

If you want to turn your life around, try thankfulness. It will change your life mightily. ~Gerald Good

To me nothing says abundance like gorgeous food. A vibrant farmer’s market. A fully stocked pantry. A home made meal shared with friends.

I had a co-worker who on returning from lunch with a friend complained that it had been “such a waste of time.” Not being with her friend, but the eating part. She viewed food as a boring necessity. I couldn’t help but think that was so sad. Great, simple, satisfying food ranks high on my list as one of the greatest pleasures in life.

This photo for me represents a double blessing. The food because it’s so colorful, and the location because it’s Italy (from my visit there in the 80s).

Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things. ~Horace

I have so many wonderful friends – with ages ranging from their 20s through their 80s. That range adds such richness to my life. I hope they know I am honored by their friendship.

Pictured is my friend, Diane, who was visiting from Chicago. I’ve always loved this photo because of the activity in the background and the umbrellas filling the frame. It’s taken at a pub in the The Hill section of St. Louis where you can enjoy the best meatball sandwich in town while you watch the crowds play bocce ball.

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. ~ Marcel Proust

To know me is to know that animals are a big part of my life. I’ve been guardian to many and living with them has brought great joy. Since I’ve featured my dogs before, now it’s time to play homage to my feline companions, Vinny and Lola (formally known as Vicenzo and Lola Palooza).

When I turn in at night, they take that quiet time to romp around the house like they are still kittens. As I lay in the dark I can hear their little padded paws racing over the wood floors, first one, then the other, and I think it’s just one of the happiest sounds.

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder

I’ve been a gardener for about 15 years, and I’d be hard pressed to name anything else that gives me more pleasure. I read a quote once that said gardeners were eternal optimists. As a typically grumpy dirt turner, I liked that association. Ever since then I’ve referred to myself as a hopeful gardener.

Here is a corner of my current garden. The urban yard isn’t so big, but I cram a lot into it. Last year I had a bumper crop of apples, and for the first time, there was enough for the squirrels, the birds, me and a few neighbors.

Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul. ~Henry Ward Beecher

This photo always makes me smile. It’s an accidental double exposure – my mother and father playing pool at my birthday party, and my friend Renee, sunbathing in a kiddie swimming pool. Talk about serendipity.

To me it represents those spontaneous and odd moments that give our lives such texture. I appreciate the unfamiliar. The break from routine. I admire creativity and expression. I suppose that’s why I’ve become so addicted to reading other blogs. Thanks to all in the blogosphere who have expanded my horizons.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. ~William Arthur Ward

Well, okay. That was fun. Refreshing, actually. I’m starting to feel human again. Maybe a photo essay on what makes us grateful can become a new meme. I’d certainly love to see what happiness is coloring your world.

“If you build it, they will come.” At least I know I will. If you don’t see my comment on your post, send me an email (pyzahn at hotmail) and I’ll be sure to stop by.

Wanted: Photo caption

2009-03-28T14:44:00.002-05:00

I dunno but I think this picture needs a caption and I can't come up with one. Help me out here.

Stupid human tricks

2009-03-27T10:45:00.005-05:00

I sincerely believe that dogs pass along behavior traits and quirks to each other. When I first got my younger dog (Nelson), I couldn’t keep him out of the basement. He would squeeze himself through the cat door to get down and explore the lower level.

Murphy (my old guy) on the other hand has always hated the basement. After a few weeks of living together -- voila -- Nelson would no longer go down. You’d think the devil was down there. Somehow the word had passed that the basement was just not cool.

Only recently did I discover that neither of my dogs will step on a grate. Now this is something new for the old guy because he’s been okay with it in the past.

I discovered this when one of Nelson’s toys landed on the cool air return in my dining room. He stood there barking and pacing like a madman because he couldn’t get to it. Nothing I did would entice him to put one foot on the grate.

So in my evil human way, I decided to put a dog treat on the backside. (See the little biscuit lying there in the first photo.) Again with the pacing and barking. Ah, I thought, I’ll have Murphy show him how to get it. So wrong.

Murphy’s approach, as you can see demonstrated in the second photo, was a bit different. He’d just stretch his body as far as he could. Then he’d walk from one end to the other, think about it, and stretch some more.

He was just one tongue length away from the prize.

This provided me with a great deal of amusement. Dogs: barking, pacing, thinking, stretching. Me: teasing, tormenting, laughing.

I finally caved in and gave them both a treat. Much deserved, for the entertainment factor alone.

Spring in the hood

2009-03-26T16:18:00.002-05:00

"I think that I shall never see a blog as lovely as a tree."

This is my Magnolia “Jane”. Actually she is a shrub, not a tree. But lovely nonetheless. It’s the first spring she has bloomed so magnificently and I can’t help but marvel at how she has brightened up the landscape.

I wish this was “Smell-a-Vision” or scratch-n-sniff because those hyacinths have the most amazing fragrance. It’s worthy of sharing. Every morning when I go out to pickup the paper, I step into a perfumed heaven.

Alas, the birds are not so happy with me today. I have cut them off from their morning feeding. As an urban dweller, I feel a responsibility to feed them during the winter. But as spring settles in, I slowly withdraw the amount of seed I put out. When the last bag is empty, free food is no more.

I always feel very guilty when the feeding stops. I try to tell them (and myself) it’s time to stand on their own. Earth worms are a plenty in my yard. But this morning the male Cardinal threw a hissy fit, squawking and hopping around and laying on the pitiful routine. So much drama.

I’m off to stroll the garden. Every day there is a new sighting of something green sprouting through the soil. The hostas are boldly showing themselves. The peonies race to see who can grow the tallest on any given day. Soon I will have a picture of the apple tree in bloom to share.

Spring brings new beauty to the hood.

I have survived

2009-03-26T16:16:00.002-05:00

Well, I did it. I survived for almost ten hours without a computer. It was hairy for a while. The anxiety was almost overwhelming. I had to put my head beneath my knees a few times and then breathe into a paper bag, but I made it through to the other side.

Several times I caught myself heading into my office to check email. The desk looked very barren, stark, so alone. My breath would catch. I filled my time with unnecessary chores to keep my mind off the withdrawal.

Obviously I’m up and running once more. I had a new PC buzz late into the night as I downloaded software and files. I never knew computers could move so quickly. I had gotten used to filing my nails and making calls while a page loaded.

For the moment, I love technology and I’m going to savor it, because heaven knows it may not last too long.

Woe is me

2009-03-25T10:16:00.001-05:00

My computer problems continue and my time online may be limited. I’m getting error reports that say it’s a hard drive issue, which can’t be good. And my system keeps crashing, which is annoying.

It’s been an interesting technological evolution for me. By nature, I am a luddite. But ever since I’ve been blogging, I’ve become much friendlier with the whole techy Internet thing. I spend more time online than watching TV. And it’s starting to draw me away from activities I’ve always loved – reading, cooking, gardening.

So maybe my computer meltdown is a good thing. Time to re-evaluate.

Wherever this assessment takes me, the fact is I will still need a computer that’s reliable. And fast. And cheap. So I’m looking for feedback.

Please send your thoughts/experiences regarding suitable replacements. I’m leaning towards a laptop. I want something that’s easy to use (i.e., none of those mini contraptions). No sissy colors. Good workhorse with multitasking capabilities. And like I said. Cheap. Or at least affordable.

Literary Prize 2009

2009-03-20T14:30:00.003-05:00

Well, I know you have all been holding your breath. Today the finalists were announced for the Diagram Prize for the oddest book title of the year. They are as follows:

“Baboon Metaphysics”

“The 2009-2014 World Outlook for 60-milligram Containers of Fromage Frais”

“Curbside Consultation of the Colon”

“The Large Sieve and its Applications”

“Techniques for Corrosion Monitoring”

“Strip and Knit with Style”

You can cast your vote until March 27th at bookseller.com or by clicking here. If you’d like to make your own suggestion for odd title, please click on the comment link below and suggest away.

Livin’ in the hood

2009-03-19T22:55:00.003-05:00

I am an urban dweller. On the cusp of the city where it meets the county line. In St. Louis there is a colossal divide between city and county – mental, not geographical.

While it’s not the barrio, you will not find rolling green lawns with friendly golden retrievers as greeters. Though for this city, it’s about as suburban as you can get. I have an oversized yard that’s anchored by a specimen apple tree, a dwindling forsythia hedge and a fairly impressive perennial garden.

For the most part it’s quiet here, unless my northerly neighbor decides to crank up the rave music. You know -- that synthesized crap that makes you want to bang your head on the wall. And occasionally the bozo down the street will ride his pocket bike through the alley like it’s the Daytona 500.

But for my depraved amusement, I look to the drug dealer across the street.

Levi is his street name. For the first two years I lived here, a light was never turned on inside and he never went into his house through the door. He always crawled through the window. Who knows? Maybe he's also a rebirther.

Initially I was fairly alarmed about his presence. He was after all sullying up the neighborhood. The traffic was a nuisance. And his goth girlfriend gave me the jeebies. But once I realized he wasn’t connected to any Colombian drug cartel, I relaxed into it.

About five years ago he was in a car accident and lost his leg. Your tax money – and mine – bought him a nice prostheses and a state-of-the-art wheel chair. After a while, the new leg lay strewn across the lawn and the wheel chair was traded in for cash flow.

Then he was arrested. No. Not for drugs. But for stealing utilities. He had connected a hose to the faucet of the empty house next door and ran it into his window. Then he took an extension cord and pulled power into his house.

Within 24 hours he was released. I dunno. Maybe he has connections on the police force. Or maybe he’s too small time to worry about.

Besides the entertainment factor, Levi fuels my overly active imagination. I suppose I’ve watched too much Law & Order over the years, but I pride myself on being an aware good citizen with a keen eye for detail. Beware druggies cause I’m paying attention.

That way when Detective Ed Green shows up at my door (Jesse Martin was the coolest cop on L&O), I’ll have my ducks in a row, the coffee hotly brewed, and my most seductive eye witness motor running.

Though that’s a good fantasy, I kinda think I would miss Levi if he were gone. I’d miss seeing him roll out of his friend’s van and crawl up the walk to his porch. I’d miss the conversations he has with the light pole. I’d miss hearing the neighbor yell cause he’s shooting bottle rockets at her dog.

Welcome to my little slice of the hood.

Note to self

2009-03-18T23:27:00.004-05:00

Sometimes we can all use a little reminder.

Queen for a day....x3

2009-03-17T19:42:00.004-05:00

Meet my mom.

Born Kathleen Caroline Morgenthaler on November 5, 1922 in Pickneyville, IL. She was one of eleven children, the oldest surviving sibling. Her sister Christine died giving birth. Brother Junior died as a youngster from a sad case of what my mother refers to as “blocked bowels.”

Her mother, my grandmother, Nellie, was a tough old broad. Not in a good sense. She was married three times. So she said. Once to my grandfather, Clarence. Then a shotgun wedding to her second husband, Chester (who my mom always calls The Old Man). The third, Aaron, well…no one is absolutely sure there was an official wedding.

The men in the family seemed to either disappear or die by odd circumstances. My grandfather was “calling” at a square dance when he fell off a porch, broke his neck and didn’t survive. My great grandfather met his maker by a means at the extreme opposite of Junior – caused my mom says by eating watermelon rind. The other husbands just seemed to wander off.

Mom led a pretty hard life. Being one of the oldest, she was responsible for much of the care giving to the younger kids. My grandmother, pioneer woman that she was, gave birth to all of her children at home, except one. So my mom can truthfully say she knows somethin’ about birthin’ a baby.

The rotating dads weren’t around much and the family migrated from town to town in southern Illinois. My mom tells a pretty harrowing story about one point in their life when they all actually lived in a chicken coop. But as you can tell from the early photo, she was a pretty sharp looking kid.

Anyway, getting back to the current picture. If you look really closely you can see a teeny tiny tiara on her head. She was voted Sweetheart Queen at the Senior Community where she lives. Sweetheart Queen twice. And Harvest Queen once. The other two tiaras were bigger but I don’t have a photo of those.

So life has come ‘round for her. After taking care of so many sisters and brothers, then marrying young and raising two kids of her own, she now gets to live a royal life in a cute little apartment where someone cooks all her meals, cleans, and monitors her health.

She’s become quite the competitive poker player, crochets lap blankets for her friends and manages to put together a record number of jigsaw puzzles every month. But she hasn’t quite let go of taking care of folks. Being one of the sprier residents, she seems to always be helping out one of her fellow residents. That’s how she earned all those crowns.

All hail Katie! Long live the Queen.

A flashback to happy days

2009-03-13T10:51:00.004-05:00

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days....

It’s Friday. In many corners of the blogosphere that means it’s a day for flashbacks. And since it’s Friday the 13th, I’m posting a picture that might amuse you on a day typically associated with the darker side of life.

Here I am in the embrace of Anson Williams. Yup. Potsie, from Happy Days.

I used to work at Sea World in San Diego. My department was responsible for producing all the live shows and part of my duties was to coordinate film crews that came to the park.

Back in the day when variety shows were all the rage, we had a steady flow. You know, stuff like….”Perry Como’s Easter by the Sea.” Captain Kangaroo even came to hang out for a couple weeks. The Captain was a bit of a pistol, but Mr. Greenjeans was a fine gentleman.

Well, Potsie, …er….Mr. Williams…had a brief stint of popularity during the reign of Happy Days. So some network gave him his own variety special. He was pretty full of himself. Hid out in his trailer with his girlfriend and then came on to the set with a big ugly hickey on his neck. Sent the producer into a tizzy and the makeup lady had to work TV magic.

Happy days. Flashbacks can be such fun.

A March madness of my own

2009-03-12T08:53:00.002-05:00

“April is the cruellest month…”

I think T. S. Eliot had it wrong. March is by far the worst month. The worst of the worst. Dreary. Brittle. Dismal. It’s the month when Mother Nature shows her whimsical ways. In the flatlands yesterday is was 80 degrees. Today I don’t think it made it up to 40.

Typically in February we see a quick warm up. A few days, maybe a week, where the temps tease with warm breezes and the sky is bright, sunny. Then March muscles in with a misty overcast and a depressing gloom. At the core, it’s an identity issue. Winter? Or Spring?

Thinking of Eliot, I went in search of a poem that might aptly express the animosity I feel for this month. My quick exploration didn’t turn up anything I found prickly enough, but here are a couple of much kinder interpretations.

"March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes
and a laugh in her voice."
- Hal Borland

"Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn."
- Lewis Grizzard

Those little doses of boyish admiration got me to ease up a bit on my loud displeasure over a lousy month. A transitional month. A better perspective would be to find relief in the knowing that in less then ten days it will officially be spring. And then I found this:

"I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing robin, sing:
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring."
- Christina Rossetti

Actually I don’t doubt that spring is on the way. I see it coming by watching the buds on my magnolia grow plump. I’ve witnessed its power by the rapid growth of my allium with only two days of unusual heat. I measure the acceleration by the increasing number of sinus pills I need to take.

Even with the sniffling and snorting, I remain anxious for a quick transformation. I wait and watch and hanker for the steady warmth. But it’s not all a lyrical, poetic yearning. A lot of it is just being peeved that my “transitional” wardrobe is sadly lacking.

Shallowness aside, I throw open my pasty white arms to welcome a brighter day and wave off the passing of a dour companion.

Sweet surrender...revisited

2009-03-10T19:19:00.002-05:00

Note: My muse is still on hiatus, so I thought I would revisit a post from the end of last summer. With spring just around the corner, it's a reminder of good things to come.

For a while now, I have been working on learning how to live in the moment. For an anal retentive, organization demon, this is a tough task. Move, move, move, put it away, get it done, do it now. My mantra.

As I try to release the urge to control my life, I am bombarded by hit’n’run reminders of what I need to accomplish. Magazine articles recommend: Let it be. Talk shows preach: Go with the flow. Spiritual teachers advise: Go within.

In trying to relax into the moment, I can completely stress myself out. But this summer, Mother Nature gave me a living example of sweet surrender.

For years I struggled in vain to grow tomatoes in my small city yard. I’ve taken out rose bushes to give them a prime sunny spot, but they were invaded by some kind of boring worm. I’ve planted in the hinderlands of the forgotten south side hoping more sun would please them, but the sandy soil was too poor to produce a real crop.

I put them in a huge pot near the house where I could keep an eye out for hungry squirrels, but still I lost the battle. I tied them to the side of the porch and ensconced them in mesh; the critters ate through it.

I gave up. I surrendered. No more tomato attempts for me.

This year as I was doing yard work, I noticed in the tiniest of cracks between the sidewalk and the garage something was growing. Never quick to weed, eventually the sprout revealed itself to be a tomato plant – obviously the gift of a neighborhood bird with incredible aim. I was amazed. I waited for it to die.

It didn’t.

That plant is now six foot tall and cresting the roof line of the garage. I’ve had to tie it up four times to keep it from toppling. As of last count, there were ten tomatoes of impressive size, with another ten or so pea-sized fruit.

But the really magical part – the tenacious plant is growing in deep shade on the north side of the building that is really more suitable for the production of moss. I am confounded. Even the squirrels have been surprised into submission.

When I gave up trying so hard, I was rewarded with the fruits of no labor.

Now as I look out the window and marvel at the bounty I am about to reap,I can’t help but smile at the thought, at the irony of it all. But for me the real sweetness is in the lesson learned.

Brain freeze

2009-03-05T10:01:00.002-06:00

Remember the good ole days when you got brain freeze from eating something cold too quickly? Malt. Sno cone. Bomb pop. That pain expanding in the front of your head until you thought it was going to explode. My automatic response was to put my hand to my forehead, pound on it a bit and maybe rub it to see if I could shake it loose.

Well, these days I get the same sensation every time I’m near a media outlet. A knee jerk, Pavlovian response with my hand rubbing my forehead as I try to get my brain to work. It happens when I hear/read/see anything about the stimulus package.

But really, what normal person can wrap their mind around the gazillions of dollars we are stacking up in debt? I have to use a fake sissy word like gazillion because when I think of the actual trillion dollar amount I slide into cerebral defecto mode.

I think the only solution is to run up to Mr. Wizard and slurp down – really fast – a large chocolate malt. Maybe the real deal brain freeze will push aside that strange numbness inside my head.

Ah, the good ole days.

To sleep, perchance to dream

2009-02-25T14:45:00.006-06:00

Last night I fell asleep watching Anthony Bourdain. That could have been dicey. Typically in my dreams I conjure up some of the images of my last waking moments. By recycling Bourdain, there was the possibility of finding myself chowing down on yak tongue or reeling from the effects of absinthe.

Tony aside, I love to dream. I encourage it. I keep journals. Often I force myself back to sleep so I can finish a dream that’s interesting. Sometimes I have fun lucid dreaming where my conscious mind gets in on the action.

Even dreams from my childhood remain remarkably vivid to this day. On several occasions I asked my mother if she remembered certain experiences and in her blank response realized they were from an astral plane, not of this world.

In recent years, while I still enjoy the thrill of imaginative dreaming, I also appreciate the practical side. Dreams are a powerful force in our lives and understanding what they are telling us can be quite transforming.

Unfortunately, there is no universal dream language. No pat textbook interpretation that makes the work easier. Driving a car may mean one thing to you and something completely different to me. All elements of the dream world are extremely personal.

Yet knowing that, I couldn’t help but pick up a book a while back at an estate sale titled “The Mystic Dream Book: 2500 Dreams Explained”. Mostly for the kitsch and because it had a cool cover. There is no author listed, but it was published by C. Junceau with a copyright of 1937.

Without getting into the sophomoric and somewhat frightening introduction, the dream explanations themselves are proof that this practice of fixed symbols is pretty darn bogus.

Here are a few excerpts taken exactly as printed:

Sleep – to dream you sleep is evil.
Fun – excessive merriment is a bad sign.
Grief – this indicates joy and merry times.
Gain – to dream you are making a big income is a bad sign, unless you appear to have scored by cheating.
Lice – to dream of lice and that you are killing a good number of them is a very good omen.
Mustard – danger from free speech.
Roast meat – affectionate greetings.
Rye – eating rye bread denotes popularity with the opposite sex.
Slaughter – you will attain a high position in the world.
Turnips – disappointment and vexation.

Reading back through that list, I’m not sure whether to laugh or scream. Hopefully there was a very small readership for this publication back in its day.

Just know that dreams provide a great service and you, oh wise one, are the master of that power.

If you have a question that needs answered, ask your dreams. If you’re looking for direction, work it out in your dreams. If you need to lighten up, have fun with your dreams. I swear…excessive merriment is not a bad sign.

Anthony Bourdain at bedtime is another matter.

Never ending quest

2009-02-22T16:29:00.004-06:00

While I typically don’t make New Year’s resolutions, I am on a never ending quest for self improvement, or just expanding my knowledge base. It could be technology, meditation, cooking...anything goes. But on a fairly regular basis something catches my fancy and I run with it. Some of it sticks, some of it doesn’t.

Towards the end of last year I decided I was living with a very narrow range of music in my life. When I’d read the list of the top ten songs or CDs and didn’t know about 90% of them, I decided it was time to explore.

I grabbed the Rolling Stone issue that listed their choices for the top CDs of the year. It proved an invaluable tool for making me feel like a fuddy-duddy. But it was also a fabulous check list for embarking on my musical journey. I started reserving titles from the library and the tunes came rolling in.

Of all the music I discovered, there were three CDs of artists new to me that really stood out. Not possessing any musical talent, or having the skill to understand theory or orchestration, I lean toward strong vocals and catchy melodies. I love music that is “singable” – that means I can understand the lyrics and I have fun crooning along.

Here are my current favorites, in no particular order.

I had in the past mistakenly dismissed Pink as just another tough, punk party girl. Wrong. This woman has the goods. Her new CD, Funhouse, runs the gamut from rock, to rant, to ballad. Her voice is strong and so are the songs. Fueled by the break up of her marriage, there’s a lot of emotion in the music.

Raphael Saadiq has been through many incarnations over the years, including performing in groups and producing. His solo CD, The Way I See It, hopefully is a mode that will stick for a long time. He was nominated for Grammy’s in R&B, but I think his work falls much more in line with gold ole 60’s soul music. It’s sultry, it’s smooth…try to listen without moving to the groove.

The freshest sound and most infectious music I have heard in a long time comes from the young group, Vampire Weekend. Thank goodness Rolling Stone recommended it, because with that name, chances are pretty good I would have never plucked it off the shelf of my own accord.

In a time when it’s often hard to tell one band from another, this group clearly has a unique, easily identifiable sound. I’ve played and played this self titled CD and love it more with each listen. Everything I like is here: distinctive vocals and harmonies, wonderful percussion and a terrific use of string instruments. As a bonus, the lyrics are printed in large type so I can read/sing along while driving. Maybe not safe, but so much fun!

I’m still on this quest, so let me know if there’s anybody else I should be listening to.

Rite of passage

2009-02-18T22:00:00.003-06:00

This blogger neophyte has been tagged. And with that tag I am introduced into the fascinating world of memes. In the blogosphere, the first tag and the accompanying meme seems to be rather akin to a Bah Mitzvah. Or maybe more like an initiation. A blogging rite of passage, for sure.

The lovely Quirkyloon has asked to peer into the murky pool of my own quirkiness. I don’t know about you, but it scares me.

(NOTE: To my non-blogging friends – a “tag” is when someone calls upon you to answer certain questions. I’m still not quite clear about what the term “meme” means but it has its own Website and you can click here to see it.)

If your house was on fire and you could grab only 3 things before leaving, what would they be?
· The bottle of Pat’s Pop that I’ve been lugging with me from state to state for about 25 years.
· My Smile-on-a-Stick, because I don’t think I will have anything to be grinning about for a while.
· My sock monkey, “Rocco Socko”, cause I’ll need to see a friendly face.

Do you believe in extraterrestrials or life on other planets?
NOT to believe would be a violation of the Inter-Celestial Species Swap Treaty. I have been an honorary member of this peace accord for about 15 years…ever since my landlord made me peel the aluminum foil off my windows.

Do you believe in ghosts?
I would say I believe more in spirits…and wood nymphs, leprechauns and the boogie man.

What do you value most in life?
The ability to breathe. I wouldn’t get far without it.

What do you think is the greatest invention in your lifetime and why?
The Brillo Pad. Have you ever tried to clean your dirty stove burners with a computer?

What do you think is the secret to a good life?
Flossing regularly. Everything else just falls into place.

What would be your dream job?
If you read my earlier posting, you will see that I think Paul Shaffer (of the David Letterman Show) has the best job in the world. It’s not about Paul, it’s the job!

If you could have three wishes granted, what would they be?
· To eat anything I want without gaining weight or clogging my arteries.
· To spend a week at George Clooney’s villa in northern Italy. And, yes, George needs to be there. All other details are to remain private.
· To have the same nimble, toned, flexible body along with the coordination and grace of any one of the normal sized ladies who perform in Cirque du Soleil. Can you imagine the possibilities? (See bullet above.)

If you HAD to change your name, what would you change it to?
Well, I rather like my porn name (you know that formula): Rusty Ridge

What evil lurks

2009-02-18T15:53:00.006-06:00

My computer has been running so s-l-o-w lately, this is how I feel I will meet my maker. Sitting at the desk, staring at the monitor, watching the little hour glass dance around the screen and seeing the pinwheel whirl around in the load bar.

The stress of watching, waiting, watching, waiting will take its toll and my head will loll over and smack the keyboard.

Honestly, as I sit here I can feel brain cells dying off. It's like I'm caught in some big Twilight Zone phenomena of psychological torture that makes water boarding seem like a trip to Pleasantville. Does Dick Cheney have stock in Intel?

At the very least I'm in a borderline trance and extremely susceptible to the power of suggestion. Oh my gosh, that's it. Dell has hijacked my PC and they're sending me subliminal messages. Last week I had to desperately fight on overwhelming urge to buy a new mouse. This week they must have stepped up their game because I've been daydreaming about laptops.

Oh, the humanity.