Seriously: What About the Crowbar?

Thoughtful flowers from a lovely evening

Finally, finally, finally, I have an unbooked weekend! Kind of forgot what they were like. Which is not to say I didn't create *the hectic* by scheduling shows here and there,etc. But I think I have been in a give-it-the-old-college-try mode since late Summer and it's beginning to wear. But the weekend~~! Wow. I could NOT do anything! I could drink coffee and daydream and toy with the idea of sketching, before deciding that, nooooo, a nap would be a MUCH better idea. I could lay down on my deck, eat a Honeycrisp apple and watch the sky and the hyper baby squirrels, wonder over the health of the backyard trees. I could! I probably won't, as of course I already have an unrealistic catch-up list that could fill the next three weekends, but look: tonight, I blew off usefulness, so it CAN be done. Going to catch "Grimm" at 9PM, caught up with the the parents and sister earlier (and wouldn't you know it, for those of you who caught my navigation post, my Dad was driving during the call and my sister was simultaneously talking to me and navigating on his behalf. To me: "We're kind of winging it (directionwise)"

Me: "Ugh, sounds like a nightmare."

Sibling: "Uh hunh, right. Dad, I think the road you want is coming up in like 5 blocks. you're going to want to be on the right."), so anyway, we're good on that score. Mom was riding in the car as well, adding random commentary to our conversation. While she has been battling a cold and wasn't feeling up to actually holding the phone, naturally, she didn't want to miss out. So there were awkward pauses with background noise, before Sis would report back, "Mom says, she found a crowbar in the kitchen~" And then we would both briefly remark upon said crowbar before moving onward.

Decades ago, before the blessed advent of cell phones, any call home meant three out of four family members on the phone at once, one camped in the kitchen nook and the other homebody perched on the upper stairs in the relative gloom of the hallway. I don't have clear memories of these, outside of a pervading sense of frustration, resulting from different agendas, approaches and levels of engagement. Periodic outbursts, side fights, sometimes ending around the time Dad would burst out, "HAVEN'T WE BEEN on the PHONE LONG ENOUGH?!?" Certainly, laughter and good anecdotes made appearances as well. It's all mulched down at this point. Back to the point: yayyy, cell phone. 

Otherwise, made some nice spicy pork soup this evening from the chicken stock I made yesterday evening. This weekend will be a Gourmet cookbook one: next up-- tandoori chicken thighs and Island pork tenderloin. Kinda weird to do the first in that it's been a long time since I have cooked an Indian dish from a...white bread source, but Gourmet tends to rock. So! Let the marinating begin.

The work week ended on a good note. No fires, no unrealistic promises made. I was productive, focused and then happily done. A Llama Adorned print sold while I watched that crap Grey's Anatomy last night and then a copy of Geese Suspect You Are Withholding sold while I was emailing reports this morning. Good deal! Thanks, Internet. Thank you, unseen appreciators! Went to my favorite hair cutter (hmm, it says "hair designer" on their web site.) for a "bang trim" -- this description always cracks me up, since really, she cuts all over, but it's fast. My hairs' too short for me to even have bangs. If so, it'd be a nod back to my (mildly) punk(ish) days. And how sad would *that* be? Anyway, spic and span and happy. Hair weighs me down! Now, I am sleek and ready to face the day! Or at least drink a beer and sit on my couch. 

So, basically, it felt like a Mom-influenced later afternoon-evening, where I was quite pleased with all the little details. Knowing they don't mean much, but tickled anyway. The grocery store seemed charmed: tantalizing snack islands stationed throughout the store, Founders (seriously, one of the best small brewers out there, far as I'm concerned) was on SALE, and my favorite produce guy appeared out of the back long after I had passed the produce section.

"HI!!!!!" He's very tall, late twenties, early thirties? He has some kind of mental disability, but is pretty high functioning. "HOW are YOU?????"

"Hey!!! Good to see you! I'm fine, how are YOU?"

"I'm FINE, it's GOOD to SEE you!!" He usually explains to me that he doesn't like it when women have short hair, but he likes it on me and I am very nice. Sometimes we exchange names and sometimes he wonders if I'm Catholic. He'd like to have a pretty wife like Sarah Palin. I love this guy. But no, today he is on the move. I continue to fill my cart. 

I spot this promising drink. I love making rosewater lemonade, so this draws me in. PLUS it has ginger, which is the bomb in pretty much anything. I pick up a couple for the next True Blood showing with compatriot (we stopped mid-episode yesterday and it's causing me pain to not RESUME PLAY, I tell you. Such hotness, such ridiculousness.)

Added bonus: check out the fun bottle cap! I'm clearly a sucker for packaging. Walking through the beer aisle, something hit me that I have thought many times in the past -- but it hit more solidly this time. I definitely want to design beer and/or wine labels at some point. Wouldn't that be fun? Especially b/c it seems like lots of companies (maybe beer more than wine?) give themselves leave to be bizarre/rebellious/out there. I often have the hankering to venture into the local stores and just photograph labels until they boot me out. Hmmm. Maybe this will be a goal for 2012....

Well, Grimm coming up shortly. TVGuide online is coy about it, I can't tell what fairy tale they'll be riffing on. 

Happy weekend, Homebodies! Happy Saturday morning, Other Fine Folk!

How about a few other random snaps? You're here already.


Favorite apron for 2011, courtesy
C Cooper Designs, a mother-daughter sewing team. I picked this up at the Rust Belt market and I'll tell you: perhaps pricier than some, but totally worth the money. I got sucked in by the kicky graphics of the fabric, and appreciate it in the longer term because of its nice lining, softness and nice deep pocket. A much nicer kitchen equivalent to all my down-and-dirty studio printing clothes.

Oh, happy Fryolator. So industrious! At Wasem's orchard.
They were OUT of hot cider the morning I went, which was quite difficult for the line to grasp.

For the love of God, no more Acrophobics!  ~~ Or damn apple manhandlers.

Or, you know: just apples.

Don't be fooled by the early Fujis! You want HoneyCrisp.

 

Ciao, Fine Readers.