I have been signed up to receive a poem a day.
I like poetry well enough - I'm moved from time to time and though I am occasionally completely befuddled by some poetry I like to think that I have something of a discriminating palate for it. I can even appreciate poems that don't rhyme. (Obviously I'm gifted.) (BTW, do they even say gifted anymore? about grown-ups? That just seems dumb.)
So.
Anyway.
I get these poems every day and once I can cull the ones about death and the rotting of flesh and the ones with punctuation and cadence from bizarro-world (I'm sounding mighty literary right now, amn't I?) there are some winners and some losers.
I think I used to operate under the assumption that all poetry was good poetry. I guess this is normal. But now I've developed more of a taste for it, reading it every day, and while I'm not always sure what I think is "good" I always know what I like.
Today marks the end of National Poetry Month in the US (though I am, as you well know, in Tuvalu, we like to celebrate the occasional US holiday) and this is the poem I received:
Everything's Inevitable
by Katy Lederer
That everything's inevitable.
That fate is whatever has already happened.
The brain, which is as elemental, as sane, as the rest of the processing universe is.
In this world, I am the surest thing.
Scrunched-up arms, folded legs, lovely destitute eyes.
Please insert your spare coins.
I am filling them up.
Please insert your spare vision, your vigor, your vim.
But yet, I am a vatic one.
As vatic as the Vatican.
In the temper and the tantrum, in the well-kept arboretum
I am waiting, like an animal,
For poetry.
And here I am, at my desk. Waiting. Like an ANIMAL. For poetry.
On the other hand, one of our editors has brought me this one...
Letter
For Richard Howard
by Mark Strand
Men are running across a field,
pens fall from their pockets.
People out walking will pick them up.
It is one of the ways letters are written.
How things fall to others!
The self no longer belonging to me, but asleep
in a stranger's shadow, now clothing
the stranger, now leading him off.
It is noon as I write to you.
Someone's life has come into my hands.
The sun whitens the buildings.
It is all I have. I gave it all to you. Yours.
How things fall to others. It is all I have. I gave it all to you. Yours.
I like this one.
Happy Poetry Day.
looking forward to...
- One Small Linen Artist Bag.
- Wellfleet.
3. Business cards. To bring to Blogher.
4. Meeting Schmutzie and The Palinode.
5. Commuting with K, Middle, and Youngest in August.
6. Not having to wear a coat.
7. Cheez-its (I'm going downstairs to get some in a minute.)
8. My boss returning to work on Monday.
9. Riding the scooter to the station in July.
10. July.
things I have a problem with
For Tuesday:
1. Ritz Crackers - should the C be capitalized? I don't know, but I do know this: not only am I sure the holes have been made bigger, I know for a fact that they don't taste as good as they used to.
2. Gum - didn't there used to be just a few gum choices out there in the marketplace? Why do I have to think so hard when I wish to purchase gum? And why does gum have to have all kinds of fancy-ass names for the flavors? Sweet mint. Fresh mint. Vanilla mint (which, btw, is just all KINDS of wrong). What the hell KIND of mint is it? I like peppermint and I have no qualms with spearmint and, people, WINTERGREEN is not mint.
3. There is some kind of gossiping going on just beyond my office door at this very moment and, for the life of me, I CANNOT hear it. Annoying.
4. Can it be that my new, very cheap, Gap ballet flats are going to rip the living hell out of the back of my heels? CAN IT? If this is true my summer shoe choices are becoming dangerously limited.
5. I admit that I am completely intolerant on the train. I know I am heartless, but if I am listening to my iPod and I know that you are a lawyer and I can hear all about how stupid (your word) your client is, you might want to shut the hell up.
6. Aren't I rant-y today?
7. Office shit-storms. Am now experiencing them. While they have nothing to do with me, it's not fun.
8. Last week it was 50. This week it's 90. I have a problem with that.
9. There is no number nine.
10. Flip flops at work. Okay? I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT.
1. Ritz Crackers - should the C be capitalized? I don't know, but I do know this: not only am I sure the holes have been made bigger, I know for a fact that they don't taste as good as they used to.
2. Gum - didn't there used to be just a few gum choices out there in the marketplace? Why do I have to think so hard when I wish to purchase gum? And why does gum have to have all kinds of fancy-ass names for the flavors? Sweet mint. Fresh mint. Vanilla mint (which, btw, is just all KINDS of wrong). What the hell KIND of mint is it? I like peppermint and I have no qualms with spearmint and, people, WINTERGREEN is not mint.
3. There is some kind of gossiping going on just beyond my office door at this very moment and, for the life of me, I CANNOT hear it. Annoying.
4. Can it be that my new, very cheap, Gap ballet flats are going to rip the living hell out of the back of my heels? CAN IT? If this is true my summer shoe choices are becoming dangerously limited.
5. I admit that I am completely intolerant on the train. I know I am heartless, but if I am listening to my iPod and I know that you are a lawyer and I can hear all about how stupid (your word) your client is, you might want to shut the hell up.
6. Aren't I rant-y today?
7. Office shit-storms. Am now experiencing them. While they have nothing to do with me, it's not fun.
8. Last week it was 50. This week it's 90. I have a problem with that.
9. There is no number nine.
10. Flip flops at work. Okay? I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT.
always ready with the advice
In which I comment on the items below, which Miss M has suggested her mother, my dear friend Alice C, have a look at, before they shop.
My comments are in bold.
On Apr 26, 2009, at 6:45 AM, Alice C wrote:
Hi bb,
Just setting off to see beloved daughter. She sent this email in advance so that we could focus our shopping...
Am worrying much about Youngest - just to share the load.
Have a lovely Sunday
Alicex
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Subject: Topshop extravaganza
To: chezmagpie@gmail.com
Sadly I can't find the link for the bag... Perhaps I imagined it but here is some other stuff instead!
Me thinks so: All Over Rose Print Tight
Are you tall and slim? Do you have long long legs?
One would require the legs of a giraffe to wear these. Were I to wear them, people would be forced to stare in horror, thinking my innards had somehow been sprayed onto my legs. I think. Am I being negative? Too negative? If you get them you cannot wear another print ANYWHERE on your body.
Or perhaps these.
These would require a thighectomy. Is there actual surgery to have one's outer thighs removed? I don't mean lipo - that stuff just comes back anyway. I mean actual lopping off of thigh. I'll bet the recovery would be very difficult and I can't decide if I'd want them to cut off my inner thigh or my outer thigh and you just know they couldn't do both side at the same time - too risky. Maybe I'd ask them to remove the outer thigh on my right leg and the inner thigh on my left.
Wait. Where were we? Oh, the lacy tights - yes...pretty!
It's just so hard to choose which curtains to match!
Are we only looking at tights?
Being serious....
This is not serious. This is a bikini. I'm sure you will look adorable in it and not at all like you have two tennis balls hanging inside a pair of socks which have been draped around your neck - if you follow me.
To match my party shoes.
Cute, cute, cute...the boyleg is adorable. For the thighless. Do people wear party shoes with bathing suits?
Or -
The right cup not matching the left cup would make me batty. Then again, even without odd stripes, my left cup probably doesn't match my right cup. You, obviously, ARE tall and thin. Horizontal stripes. Sheesh. This suit is CUTE AS A BUTTON! Bring a little white cardi to cover your shoulder and you'll look VERY JCrew.
But I'll stop because I think that's enough links...
Now I am thinking entirely too much about bathing suit shopping. And wondering if my bathing suits even FIT me.
What's weird is that they don't actually have any of the stock in the shop on the website so either they're really behind or someone hasn't bothered updating the website. Hmm...
Oh and what do you think of this?
Cute! Oh! Buy this dress! Retro adorable!
Yes or no?
YESYESYES! it's a copy of a beautiful couture dress! it's lovely!
And I'm done! Love xx
Ah, me...to have a girl child to shop with...
Here's hoping I get an update and find out what she bought!
My comments are in bold.
On Apr 26, 2009, at 6:45 AM, Alice C wrote:
Hi bb,
Just setting off to see beloved daughter. She sent this email in advance so that we could focus our shopping...
Am worrying much about Youngest - just to share the load.
Have a lovely Sunday
Alicex
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Subject: Topshop extravaganza
To: chezmagpie@gmail.com
Sadly I can't find the link for the bag... Perhaps I imagined it but here is some other stuff instead!
Me thinks so: All Over Rose Print Tight
Are you tall and slim? Do you have long long legs?
One would require the legs of a giraffe to wear these. Were I to wear them, people would be forced to stare in horror, thinking my innards had somehow been sprayed onto my legs. I think. Am I being negative? Too negative? If you get them you cannot wear another print ANYWHERE on your body.
Or perhaps these.
These would require a thighectomy. Is there actual surgery to have one's outer thighs removed? I don't mean lipo - that stuff just comes back anyway. I mean actual lopping off of thigh. I'll bet the recovery would be very difficult and I can't decide if I'd want them to cut off my inner thigh or my outer thigh and you just know they couldn't do both side at the same time - too risky. Maybe I'd ask them to remove the outer thigh on my right leg and the inner thigh on my left.
Wait. Where were we? Oh, the lacy tights - yes...pretty!
It's just so hard to choose which curtains to match!
Are we only looking at tights?
Being serious....
This is not serious. This is a bikini. I'm sure you will look adorable in it and not at all like you have two tennis balls hanging inside a pair of socks which have been draped around your neck - if you follow me.
To match my party shoes.
Cute, cute, cute...the boyleg is adorable. For the thighless. Do people wear party shoes with bathing suits?
Or -
The right cup not matching the left cup would make me batty. Then again, even without odd stripes, my left cup probably doesn't match my right cup. You, obviously, ARE tall and thin. Horizontal stripes. Sheesh. This suit is CUTE AS A BUTTON! Bring a little white cardi to cover your shoulder and you'll look VERY JCrew.
But I'll stop because I think that's enough links...
Now I am thinking entirely too much about bathing suit shopping. And wondering if my bathing suits even FIT me.
What's weird is that they don't actually have any of the stock in the shop on the website so either they're really behind or someone hasn't bothered updating the website. Hmm...
Oh and what do you think of this?
Cute! Oh! Buy this dress! Retro adorable!
Yes or no?
YESYESYES! it's a copy of a beautiful couture dress! it's lovely!
And I'm done! Love xx
Ah, me...to have a girl child to shop with...
Here's hoping I get an update and find out what she bought!
dateline: Tuvalu
The weather went from cold and rainy to warm and sunny - nearly overnight.
Oldest has been working in town this week, commuting with us in the morning and then riding his long-board down the avenue to work. He comes home exhilarated.
Middle participated in Senior Cut Day this week, bargaining his day off by explaining that his GPA is locked, he has been accepted to college, he had only two classes and that "no one is going to be at school." I agreed to let him "cut" but refused to call him in sick (aided and abetted by a recorded call from the principal explaining that any absent senior would need a doctor's note to be marked "absent" rather than "cut"). In the end, it sounds to me as though most of the senior class skipped school and, as of this report, the administration had not decided how to deal with the offending teens. For the record, I'll tell you that I would have made certain that he complied with whatever consequences the administration handed down - detention, the "tank" (in-school suspension), hard labor...do the crime, do the time in my house. If you can determine a punishment for me, as an accessory to the crime, feel free to leave it in the comments. But be kind, he's a good fellow who has worked hard and complies with curfew, calls in and helps out whenever asked and this is a minor transgression on both our parts.
Youngest spent the day, today, free running which has been his worrying hobby for many months now. So far, knock wood, he has come home with bloody legs, a large abrasion on his neck (FOR GOD'S SAKE) and various pulls and strains. As I have spent an inordinate amount of time with him in hospitals over his lifetime, I am not terribly happy about this recent turn of events - though I am pleased that he continues to find ways to be active and outdoors.
Middle spent the day shooting with a friend who already attends Art School. He returned to drop off equipment and pick up some advice on how to barbecue steak.
And, speaking of steak, after a day of housework and a nice scooter-ride through town, we had the first barbecue of the season - steaks and asparagus and fries.
The windows were open all day, we tidied up the front porch and made plans to bring Youngest to the beach to try out his skimboard from Christmas.
I cleaned up the dinner things whilst listening to A Prairie Home Companion.
A warm breeze came through the window over the kitchen sink.
I had bought body lotion today, with spf 15 in it. I didn't think about it as I put it in the cart, but, as soon as I put some on this evening, I realized that the scent of it is reminiscent of sunblock...and suddenly, all at once, I smelled of summertime.
Oldest has been working in town this week, commuting with us in the morning and then riding his long-board down the avenue to work. He comes home exhilarated.
Middle participated in Senior Cut Day this week, bargaining his day off by explaining that his GPA is locked, he has been accepted to college, he had only two classes and that "no one is going to be at school." I agreed to let him "cut" but refused to call him in sick (aided and abetted by a recorded call from the principal explaining that any absent senior would need a doctor's note to be marked "absent" rather than "cut"). In the end, it sounds to me as though most of the senior class skipped school and, as of this report, the administration had not decided how to deal with the offending teens. For the record, I'll tell you that I would have made certain that he complied with whatever consequences the administration handed down - detention, the "tank" (in-school suspension), hard labor...do the crime, do the time in my house. If you can determine a punishment for me, as an accessory to the crime, feel free to leave it in the comments. But be kind, he's a good fellow who has worked hard and complies with curfew, calls in and helps out whenever asked and this is a minor transgression on both our parts.
Youngest spent the day, today, free running which has been his worrying hobby for many months now. So far, knock wood, he has come home with bloody legs, a large abrasion on his neck (FOR GOD'S SAKE) and various pulls and strains. As I have spent an inordinate amount of time with him in hospitals over his lifetime, I am not terribly happy about this recent turn of events - though I am pleased that he continues to find ways to be active and outdoors.
Middle spent the day shooting with a friend who already attends Art School. He returned to drop off equipment and pick up some advice on how to barbecue steak.
And, speaking of steak, after a day of housework and a nice scooter-ride through town, we had the first barbecue of the season - steaks and asparagus and fries.
The windows were open all day, we tidied up the front porch and made plans to bring Youngest to the beach to try out his skimboard from Christmas.
I cleaned up the dinner things whilst listening to A Prairie Home Companion.
A warm breeze came through the window over the kitchen sink.
I had bought body lotion today, with spf 15 in it. I didn't think about it as I put it in the cart, but, as soon as I put some on this evening, I realized that the scent of it is reminiscent of sunblock...and suddenly, all at once, I smelled of summertime.
blogs far and wide
I may not have a lot of time - but I still manage to traipse around the internet. These are the people who stir my thoughts:
Nienie - I cannot read her posts without developing a lump in my throat. Her courage is beyond words and the love that pours through and around and in her words is, sometimes, too much for me to bear.
A Continuous Lean - Such things! It's good that K has no affinity for clothing or accessories. We'd be bankrupt.
Free People - I know. I'm a walking cliche.
The helylle-fortrata styling experience - Anna is my polar opposite, style-wise, and I adore everything she wears.
Auto Pilot - She's the newest blogger in the blogosphere! Go and welcome her! Nevermind! Came and went in a week. With controversy too...Bluebird Who?
Reference Library - Depressingly Awesome!
Pip-Squeak Chapeau - OH. I WANT EVERYTHING.
I know - some of you were expecting a post on Survivor. I didn't see it --- it was Middle's final concert at school. Oh, the weeping.
Nienie - I cannot read her posts without developing a lump in my throat. Her courage is beyond words and the love that pours through and around and in her words is, sometimes, too much for me to bear.
A Continuous Lean - Such things! It's good that K has no affinity for clothing or accessories. We'd be bankrupt.
Free People - I know. I'm a walking cliche.
The helylle-fortrata styling experience - Anna is my polar opposite, style-wise, and I adore everything she wears.
Auto Pilot - She's the newest blogger in the blogosphere! Go and welcome her! Nevermind! Came and went in a week. With controversy too...Bluebird Who?
Reference Library - Depressingly Awesome!
Pip-Squeak Chapeau - OH. I WANT EVERYTHING.
I know - some of you were expecting a post on Survivor. I didn't see it --- it was Middle's final concert at school. Oh, the weeping.
hanging out with Loretta
Okay - NOTHING WAS HANGING OUT. Loretta HAS nothing left to HANG OUT. Loretta is an absolutely beautiful shadow of her former self. (In fact, I may have embarrassed myself as I could not stop marveling at the new Loretta.)
We met at a bistro that I am familiar with but have never been satisfied with.
NO PROBLEM. Loretta suggested ordering the bread basket with butter and jam and I proceeded to make a complete pig of myself eating it all. Fortunately, Loretta had the sense to order an egg as I'm not sure the BREAD was accessible to her as I was too busy shoving it in my PIE-HOLE.
(I'll settle down now.)
We decided to stroll.
The sun was shining (it hasn't since) and we made our way around the neighborhood looking at this and that. (The jacket she had her eye on at Anthro was really only HALF a jacket - and though she is half her earlier size, NO ONE deserves half a jacket.)
We sniffed lovely scents, we looked at skeletons (she's got that photo) and we even had time for a little snack before we parted.
It's such a lovely thing when blog friends turn into real-life friends too...and I got a present!
Loretta made me this gorgeous box and filled it with shells and rocks from the Cape (because we BOTH love the Cape with the passion of a thousand fiery suns). Close your eyes, bury your face in the box and take a sniff...THE CAPE...THE BEACH...MAYBE EVEN A CLAM ROLL.
Loretta is enormously talented, enormously generous - AND no longer enormous!
(Okay, maybe she wasn't exactly enormous, but she was much larger. NO! Not largER, but a different size, okay? ANYWAY.)
We had a lovely, lovely time.
(Yes, it is a wall of bread.)
We met at a bistro that I am familiar with but have never been satisfied with.
NO PROBLEM. Loretta suggested ordering the bread basket with butter and jam and I proceeded to make a complete pig of myself eating it all. Fortunately, Loretta had the sense to order an egg as I'm not sure the BREAD was accessible to her as I was too busy shoving it in my PIE-HOLE.
(I'll settle down now.)
We decided to stroll.
The sun was shining (it hasn't since) and we made our way around the neighborhood looking at this and that. (The jacket she had her eye on at Anthro was really only HALF a jacket - and though she is half her earlier size, NO ONE deserves half a jacket.)
We sniffed lovely scents, we looked at skeletons (she's got that photo) and we even had time for a little snack before we parted.
It's such a lovely thing when blog friends turn into real-life friends too...and I got a present!
Loretta made me this gorgeous box and filled it with shells and rocks from the Cape (because we BOTH love the Cape with the passion of a thousand fiery suns). Close your eyes, bury your face in the box and take a sniff...THE CAPE...THE BEACH...MAYBE EVEN A CLAM ROLL.
Loretta is enormously talented, enormously generous - AND no longer enormous!
(Okay, maybe she wasn't exactly enormous, but she was much larger. NO! Not largER, but a different size, okay? ANYWAY.)
We had a lovely, lovely time.
(Yes, it is a wall of bread.)
field trip
I took the day off and brought the boys into town.
Youngest wanted some skinny jeans and we took care of that pretty quickly.
But just around the corner was a place I've always wanted to visit.
The fellas were a bit dubious when we first arrived.
But there was so much to look at...
we each had our favorite items.
Though I think all three of us admired this overpriced stapler.
I keep forgetting to tell Oldest about this skateboard.
And I couldn't decide if I liked these felt flowers or was a little freaked out by them.
I do love paper shoes AND plastic dish-brushes.
Can you spot the cuckoo clock? It had a very nice, um, cuckoo sound.
It was a wonderful tiny place.
We found a perfect present for Middle - (who just nailed THE most wonderful summer internship)
had some fabulous pizza, and went home.
A fine day out.
Youngest wanted some skinny jeans and we took care of that pretty quickly.
But just around the corner was a place I've always wanted to visit.
The fellas were a bit dubious when we first arrived.
But there was so much to look at...
we each had our favorite items.
Though I think all three of us admired this overpriced stapler.
I keep forgetting to tell Oldest about this skateboard.
And I couldn't decide if I liked these felt flowers or was a little freaked out by them.
I do love paper shoes AND plastic dish-brushes.
Can you spot the cuckoo clock? It had a very nice, um, cuckoo sound.
It was a wonderful tiny place.
We found a perfect present for Middle - (who just nailed THE most wonderful summer internship)
had some fabulous pizza, and went home.
A fine day out.
fiesta cuarto de baño
It was a simple mistake.
A couple of weeks ago, I bought this:
and, though it was full of preservatives and contained enough salt to stock an ocean, it wasn't too terrible and we ate it. (We try to do one meal a week that is "convenient".)
So, last week, I thought I'd try the competition and purchased this dinner kit thinking it was the same:
and committed a near fatal flaw.
You see, the first kit was acceptable. True, it was salty and, no doubt, loaded with chemicals but the boys liked it and we ate it up.
And I don't think you can blame me. Who wouldn't want to try the competition? It could be BETTER STUFF.
Why would Mama Ortega steer me wrong?
See her honest-looking face?
The pictures on the boxes LOOKED THE SAME...but there was ONE VERY IMPORTANT DIFFERENCE.
Though it looked good on the plate - the Taco Lasagna featured "enchilada sauce" and liquid mozzarella.
I'll spare you the details. Suffice to say: Taco Lasagna and MY FAMILY don't mix well.
But the sunset was gorgeous.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Want some Maypo?
Maybe you don't want any of our Maypo.
A couple of weeks ago, I bought this:
and, though it was full of preservatives and contained enough salt to stock an ocean, it wasn't too terrible and we ate it. (We try to do one meal a week that is "convenient".)
So, last week, I thought I'd try the competition and purchased this dinner kit thinking it was the same:
and committed a near fatal flaw.
You see, the first kit was acceptable. True, it was salty and, no doubt, loaded with chemicals but the boys liked it and we ate it up.
And I don't think you can blame me. Who wouldn't want to try the competition? It could be BETTER STUFF.
Why would Mama Ortega steer me wrong?
See her honest-looking face?
The pictures on the boxes LOOKED THE SAME...but there was ONE VERY IMPORTANT DIFFERENCE.
Though it looked good on the plate - the Taco Lasagna featured "enchilada sauce" and liquid mozzarella.
I'll spare you the details. Suffice to say: Taco Lasagna and MY FAMILY don't mix well.
But the sunset was gorgeous.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Want some Maypo?
Maybe you don't want any of our Maypo.
now and then
Now: wake up at 5:50, get ready for work.
Then: get up at 6:20, get kids ready for school.
Now: pile everyone into the car at 7:20, drop kids at school and K at station in bad weather.*
Then: pile everyone into the car at 7:20, drop kids at school, park at station, ride train with K.
Now: arrive in town at 8:15, grab a cafe au lait, settle in and check emails.
Then: back at home, throw in a load of laundry and hop in the shower.
Now: spend the day getting boss into and out of meetings, arranging other meetings, doing mailings, fielding phone calls, writing emails.
Then: spend the day cleaning, cooking, driving kids, fielding phone calls, writing blog posts.
I took last Thursday and Friday off. Thursday I took the boys into town and we had a really nice time (another post) but on Friday I had an old-school day and did laundry and went to the supermarket and drove Youngest for a haircut and ran errands - and I have to say, I've just realized that for me? right now in my life? I like the Now better than the Then.
*in good weather K takes the scooter to the station.
Then: get up at 6:20, get kids ready for school.
Now: pile everyone into the car at 7:20, drop kids at school and K at station in bad weather.*
Then: pile everyone into the car at 7:20, drop kids at school, park at station, ride train with K.
Now: arrive in town at 8:15, grab a cafe au lait, settle in and check emails.
Then: back at home, throw in a load of laundry and hop in the shower.
Now: spend the day getting boss into and out of meetings, arranging other meetings, doing mailings, fielding phone calls, writing emails.
Then: spend the day cleaning, cooking, driving kids, fielding phone calls, writing blog posts.
I took last Thursday and Friday off. Thursday I took the boys into town and we had a really nice time (another post) but on Friday I had an old-school day and did laundry and went to the supermarket and drove Youngest for a haircut and ran errands - and I have to say, I've just realized that for me? right now in my life? I like the Now better than the Then.
*in good weather K takes the scooter to the station.
okay, fine, I WON'T WEAR PANTS
I'm done.
I have half a dozen dresses and an equal number of skirts. I have lots and lots of wonderful accessories and am very good at using them. But, it would appear that I'm not going to find lightweight, summer-ish, pants to wear to work and I'm tired of looking for them.
- you know, just in case you were on the edge of your chair wondering....
I have half a dozen dresses and an equal number of skirts. I have lots and lots of wonderful accessories and am very good at using them. But, it would appear that I'm not going to find lightweight, summer-ish, pants to wear to work and I'm tired of looking for them.
- you know, just in case you were on the edge of your chair wondering....
Survivor
They’ve changed Heath bars. Did you know that? They used to be two pieces and now they are one long bar. They still stick in your teeth, though – so there’s that.
Joe went home. There was no tribal council. There are only nine people left in the game.
It’s night 21 and the team is huddled around a fire. Coach is bummed and wants to share a piece of his life with the team. There are only three people (and us) who know the story of how Coach was dropped into the Amazon. Why? I don’t know. He was captured by indigenous people and beaten. He escaped bloody and brutalized. The team is silent upon hearing this story. Brendan and Debbie don’t know how to react.
As we say here in Tuvalu: THE HECK?
The next morning Coach is doing his wax on wax off shtick while the team looks on. JT feels vulnerable but he has an alliance. I think I’m getting used to his accent.
It doesn’t matter, Coach feels that he is born to run this show. Sierra, he says, is the bowel movements of Brendan’s dragon. Imaginative, isn’t it?
Erinn and JT go fishing. She likes all the guys, she tells Brendan. She’s been staying below the radar for a while and is starting to maneuver now, IMO. JT is pleased that she’s reached out to him.
The first challenge of the evening divides the team into three groups who have to break tiles with metal balls. The reward is an afternoon of white water river rafting and a picnic. One person goes to Exile alone.
The groups must break the tile of the other teams. This leaves me sort of confused. Coach claims to have done this challenge before. Time lapse photography leads me to believe that this challenge takes a while. I SO don’t understand the strategy behind this game – but I will continue to report TO YOU. Sierra can win it for the white team but fails. Erinn could winn it – but doesn’t. Neither does JT. Debbie and Stephen fail to win it. Brendan almost wins but only chips a tile. It’s VERY close. Players keep missing. Brendan wins for his team. JT, Debbie and Brendan win and choose Stephen to go to Exile. Coach tells him to BE THE WIZARD.
There’s nothing new at Exile and Stephen doesn’t know how to make fire. He says he might die. He can’t make fire. He finally does it and “it’s like giving birth.” He’s very proud.
On the river rapids in a raft – which doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun to me, JT has a blast and feels like a little kid. They all seem to have a great time. Then they have lunch on a sandbar. Brendan and JT bond and talk about the team and do some planning. Brendan tells us that he’ll be happy if JT wins.
On day 24 Brendan tells us that he has spent the night planning how JT can get in the final four. He talks to Sierra and tells her how much he loves JT and explains how they should take out Tyson, Coach and Erinn.
Then, Brendan talks to Taj. They plot.
Brazil looks like a muddy terrible place at this point.
But I can’t think about it because it’s time for another challenge.
Stephen comes back – it’s been a couple of days.
Attached to a rope, the players must weave their way through a series of obstacles.
They all seem to move very quickly through the first set of obstacles. Stephen and Taj lag behind. Tyson, JT, Sierra and Brendan get through first.
Erinn moves first but others are right behind her. Tyson, JT and Brendan are ahead. JT, Tyson and Brendan move to the final round. The obstacles are taller in the final round. Tyson wins. It looks so hard! Coach has many words of wisdom regarding slaying the dragon (Brendan).
Brendan wants to vote for Coach.
Back at camp Stephen talks about his triumph over fire and then, suddenly they are all talking about who they are voting for. Tyson wants Brendan out right away and for Sierra to go next.
But Brendan tells JT and Sierra to vote for Coach. He tells them that he has Taj with them.
I have to admit – I’d like to see Coach go. I don’t have a problem with Brendan. JT tells Stephen about the plot to get rid of Coach but I don't understand much.
Coach is looking forward to Brendan leaving.
At Tribal Jeff asks who keeps the tribe laughing, who tells the best stories, Taj talks about Coach and his Amazon story. Coach says he’s toned the story down for his audience. Coach feels very confident.
(We have a little phone charger convo at this point.)
OH, I WISH THEY’D VOTE ALREADY.
They talk about the idol – they all lie and say they don’t have it except for Brendan who admits it.
COACH IS THE DRAGON SLAYER. WHO IS THE WIZARD?
OH, I wish Coach would get voted out.
STEPHEN IS THE WIZARD SHOOTING LIGHTING.
THE HECK?
Tight vote – but Brendan becomes the first member of the jury.
ACK. We are NOT HAPPY.
Joe went home. There was no tribal council. There are only nine people left in the game.
It’s night 21 and the team is huddled around a fire. Coach is bummed and wants to share a piece of his life with the team. There are only three people (and us) who know the story of how Coach was dropped into the Amazon. Why? I don’t know. He was captured by indigenous people and beaten. He escaped bloody and brutalized. The team is silent upon hearing this story. Brendan and Debbie don’t know how to react.
As we say here in Tuvalu: THE HECK?
The next morning Coach is doing his wax on wax off shtick while the team looks on. JT feels vulnerable but he has an alliance. I think I’m getting used to his accent.
It doesn’t matter, Coach feels that he is born to run this show. Sierra, he says, is the bowel movements of Brendan’s dragon. Imaginative, isn’t it?
Erinn and JT go fishing. She likes all the guys, she tells Brendan. She’s been staying below the radar for a while and is starting to maneuver now, IMO. JT is pleased that she’s reached out to him.
The first challenge of the evening divides the team into three groups who have to break tiles with metal balls. The reward is an afternoon of white water river rafting and a picnic. One person goes to Exile alone.
The groups must break the tile of the other teams. This leaves me sort of confused. Coach claims to have done this challenge before. Time lapse photography leads me to believe that this challenge takes a while. I SO don’t understand the strategy behind this game – but I will continue to report TO YOU. Sierra can win it for the white team but fails. Erinn could winn it – but doesn’t. Neither does JT. Debbie and Stephen fail to win it. Brendan almost wins but only chips a tile. It’s VERY close. Players keep missing. Brendan wins for his team. JT, Debbie and Brendan win and choose Stephen to go to Exile. Coach tells him to BE THE WIZARD.
There’s nothing new at Exile and Stephen doesn’t know how to make fire. He says he might die. He can’t make fire. He finally does it and “it’s like giving birth.” He’s very proud.
On the river rapids in a raft – which doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun to me, JT has a blast and feels like a little kid. They all seem to have a great time. Then they have lunch on a sandbar. Brendan and JT bond and talk about the team and do some planning. Brendan tells us that he’ll be happy if JT wins.
On day 24 Brendan tells us that he has spent the night planning how JT can get in the final four. He talks to Sierra and tells her how much he loves JT and explains how they should take out Tyson, Coach and Erinn.
Then, Brendan talks to Taj. They plot.
Brazil looks like a muddy terrible place at this point.
But I can’t think about it because it’s time for another challenge.
Stephen comes back – it’s been a couple of days.
Attached to a rope, the players must weave their way through a series of obstacles.
They all seem to move very quickly through the first set of obstacles. Stephen and Taj lag behind. Tyson, JT, Sierra and Brendan get through first.
Erinn moves first but others are right behind her. Tyson, JT and Brendan are ahead. JT, Tyson and Brendan move to the final round. The obstacles are taller in the final round. Tyson wins. It looks so hard! Coach has many words of wisdom regarding slaying the dragon (Brendan).
Brendan wants to vote for Coach.
Back at camp Stephen talks about his triumph over fire and then, suddenly they are all talking about who they are voting for. Tyson wants Brendan out right away and for Sierra to go next.
But Brendan tells JT and Sierra to vote for Coach. He tells them that he has Taj with them.
I have to admit – I’d like to see Coach go. I don’t have a problem with Brendan. JT tells Stephen about the plot to get rid of Coach but I don't understand much.
Coach is looking forward to Brendan leaving.
At Tribal Jeff asks who keeps the tribe laughing, who tells the best stories, Taj talks about Coach and his Amazon story. Coach says he’s toned the story down for his audience. Coach feels very confident.
(We have a little phone charger convo at this point.)
OH, I WISH THEY’D VOTE ALREADY.
They talk about the idol – they all lie and say they don’t have it except for Brendan who admits it.
COACH IS THE DRAGON SLAYER. WHO IS THE WIZARD?
OH, I wish Coach would get voted out.
STEPHEN IS THE WIZARD SHOOTING LIGHTING.
THE HECK?
Tight vote – but Brendan becomes the first member of the jury.
ACK. We are NOT HAPPY.
the Spring wardrobe, part two in an apparently continuing series or saga, if you will
My order from J Crew arrived, and, people, the news is not great.
I ordered: a skirt, a pair of "cropped" jeans, "cropped" chinos and "cropped" capris - and I, specifically and against my better judgement, ordered everything in petite so that the "cropped" pants would actually fall slightly above my ankles. Size 4.
The results:
The skirt is fine. Nice even. It's a brownish, cotton-y, pleated-ish, lightweight number that will match everything I own.
The jeans were ridiculous. "Matchstick" I am not. Even thin, I have some curves.
Some brownish cropped pants were really bad - there's a photo below so you can smirk.
The chinos, in white, WERE COMPLETELY TRANSPARENT. I'm not saying another word.
The capris, on sale THANK GOODNESS, are okay. Just really OKAY. But on sale. On sale and I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR TO WORK SO I AM KEEPING THEM.
See? They are fine.
I can't explain why, but, as you can see in this truly terrible photo, the cut of these pants is just no good for me. I'm lapsing into the 14 year old boy thing again.
And, layered, the okay pants are almost good.
Though my room looks awfully red doesn't it? It's not really.
K pointed out that for $39.95 one should not HAVE to layer to make pants look okay. But in K's mind pants should be $20 so we can't really pay attention to him in this case. I've had plenty of $20 pants and that's exactly what they are worth.
He also mentioned something about the rear view of the okay pants. Said something about panty lines or some such. I tried to explain that that is easily remedied but I'm not discussing underwear here, AM I?
Here. I will distract all 27 of you with this excellent example of my photoshopping skills:
I had to adjust the hue and saturation on this shot as well as the brightness and contrast AND THEN I wrote on it. Voila. A perfectly bad photo of my laundry.
Oh, also, the top-layer dress is merely resting against me in this picture. I didn't even put it on. TALK ABOUT TALENT. GO AHEAD.
I have today and tomorrow off from work and am taking Youngest into town.
Tonight I am making pasta with wild ramps which my boss brought from his weekend house...and I'm watching Survivor with Mom.
Yesterday Middle and K had a tour of Art School. K had/has many many questions but I think he liked it. They brought me one of those stickers for the back window of my car.
I have a kid (almost) in college!
I ordered: a skirt, a pair of "cropped" jeans, "cropped" chinos and "cropped" capris - and I, specifically and against my better judgement, ordered everything in petite so that the "cropped" pants would actually fall slightly above my ankles. Size 4.
The results:
The skirt is fine. Nice even. It's a brownish, cotton-y, pleated-ish, lightweight number that will match everything I own.
The jeans were ridiculous. "Matchstick" I am not. Even thin, I have some curves.
Some brownish cropped pants were really bad - there's a photo below so you can smirk.
The chinos, in white, WERE COMPLETELY TRANSPARENT. I'm not saying another word.
The capris, on sale THANK GOODNESS, are okay. Just really OKAY. But on sale. On sale and I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR TO WORK SO I AM KEEPING THEM.
See? They are fine.
I can't explain why, but, as you can see in this truly terrible photo, the cut of these pants is just no good for me. I'm lapsing into the 14 year old boy thing again.
And, layered, the okay pants are almost good.
Though my room looks awfully red doesn't it? It's not really.
K pointed out that for $39.95 one should not HAVE to layer to make pants look okay. But in K's mind pants should be $20 so we can't really pay attention to him in this case. I've had plenty of $20 pants and that's exactly what they are worth.
He also mentioned something about the rear view of the okay pants. Said something about panty lines or some such. I tried to explain that that is easily remedied but I'm not discussing underwear here, AM I?
Here. I will distract all 27 of you with this excellent example of my photoshopping skills:
I had to adjust the hue and saturation on this shot as well as the brightness and contrast AND THEN I wrote on it. Voila. A perfectly bad photo of my laundry.
Oh, also, the top-layer dress is merely resting against me in this picture. I didn't even put it on. TALK ABOUT TALENT. GO AHEAD.
I have today and tomorrow off from work and am taking Youngest into town.
Tonight I am making pasta with wild ramps which my boss brought from his weekend house...and I'm watching Survivor with Mom.
Yesterday Middle and K had a tour of Art School. K had/has many many questions but I think he liked it. They brought me one of those stickers for the back window of my car.
I have a kid (almost) in college!
when what to my wondering eyes
Tuesday was long. Long and hard. Mine eyes were exhausted by the time I left (I might need new glasses) and I was so relieved to get up and leave my computer screen at the end of the day. I plugged into my iPod and walked to the train.
Down on the sidewalk there were trucks unloading things and a forklift crossing on and off my path, and a perturbed looking lady in a trench coat having a wee stand-off with a tiny dachshund who wanted to sit in the middle of the sidewalk which cause several of the passersby to comment on her predicament. When I got to the stairs an old man was moving slowly, purposefully, down the steps. He had a cane and I slowed my pace to see if I could be of any assistance. But he did fine and made it on to the train at the same time I did.
And there, on the train, I became completely delighted with the people surrounding me....
At one end of the car I spied a girl in a purple hoodie with fabulous purple and white sneakers. She was adorable.
I took some time to look more closely at the old man from the stairs. I realized that he was wearing a terrific brown suede hat and a trench coat and a very nice suit but what pleased me most was that he sat down, in sort of a fragile way, and took out his BLACKBERRY. I know I shouldn't make assumptions about elderly men who are gently making their way down subway steps, but I can't help it! I never expected him to have a Blackberry.
I was quickly distracted from the groovy older guy though - as, just in front of me, sitting across from each other was a fabulous couple. It was clear that they were going out for the evening as she was done up. She was tall and blond and was wearing a red print party dress under her trench and was clutching a deep red satin evening bag. The best part of her outfit was her shoes. The same deep deep red in patent leather - with high heels and peep toes. Shinyshinyshiny. Lovely.
Her partner matched her - outdid her, even. He wore a dark suit and the more I looked (and smiled) the better it got. A striped shirt in white with coral and deep red, with just a hint of shine. A pocket square in coral and red. A deep red tie with cricket bats on it - tiny (I had to look hard!) Beautiful shoes - custom looking shoes and then the kicker: deep red socks.
I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot when I got off the train.
Down on the sidewalk there were trucks unloading things and a forklift crossing on and off my path, and a perturbed looking lady in a trench coat having a wee stand-off with a tiny dachshund who wanted to sit in the middle of the sidewalk which cause several of the passersby to comment on her predicament. When I got to the stairs an old man was moving slowly, purposefully, down the steps. He had a cane and I slowed my pace to see if I could be of any assistance. But he did fine and made it on to the train at the same time I did.
And there, on the train, I became completely delighted with the people surrounding me....
At one end of the car I spied a girl in a purple hoodie with fabulous purple and white sneakers. She was adorable.
I took some time to look more closely at the old man from the stairs. I realized that he was wearing a terrific brown suede hat and a trench coat and a very nice suit but what pleased me most was that he sat down, in sort of a fragile way, and took out his BLACKBERRY. I know I shouldn't make assumptions about elderly men who are gently making their way down subway steps, but I can't help it! I never expected him to have a Blackberry.
I was quickly distracted from the groovy older guy though - as, just in front of me, sitting across from each other was a fabulous couple. It was clear that they were going out for the evening as she was done up. She was tall and blond and was wearing a red print party dress under her trench and was clutching a deep red satin evening bag. The best part of her outfit was her shoes. The same deep deep red in patent leather - with high heels and peep toes. Shinyshinyshiny. Lovely.
Her partner matched her - outdid her, even. He wore a dark suit and the more I looked (and smiled) the better it got. A striped shirt in white with coral and deep red, with just a hint of shine. A pocket square in coral and red. A deep red tie with cricket bats on it - tiny (I had to look hard!) Beautiful shoes - custom looking shoes and then the kicker: deep red socks.
I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot when I got off the train.
I know what you're thinking
You're thinking: she gets a full-time job and stops blogging. And I will freely admit that the whole job thing has definitely hampered the blogging. (Hampered? Is that right? Sounds like laundry.) But the real truth of it is: WE HAVE NO INTERNET AT MY HOUSE.
Could be the Airport, could be - I don't know, BIRDS?
There's also the issue of working all the live-long day at my computer in the office and coming home bleary-eyed and barely having the stamina to check my emails.
THE STAMINA, I TELL YOU.
But I have much to report re. pens and ramps and tops and bottoms and shopping and meeting Loretta in town this weekend.
And I WILL.
Just not right now.
All best,
bb
Could be the Airport, could be - I don't know, BIRDS?
There's also the issue of working all the live-long day at my computer in the office and coming home bleary-eyed and barely having the stamina to check my emails.
THE STAMINA, I TELL YOU.
But I have much to report re. pens and ramps and tops and bottoms and shopping and meeting Loretta in town this weekend.
And I WILL.
Just not right now.
All best,
bb
how to save money on a Spring wardrobe
I did the big wardrobe switch over the weekend and I tried on all my skirts and pants. The good news: I have lots and lots of tee shirts. The bad news: I don't have any pants or skirts. But the Gap was open on Sunday so I spent an hour trying on their skirts and pants.
Here's my report:
While I no longer look like Busty McPreggers in this kind of top, when I think about wearing it to the office I can only picture myself with Heidi braids and a milking stool.
Call it a nightgown, call it a beach cover-up, but don't call it a dress. Also? It's see-through. (My personal favorite.)
I know, I know, I need pants and skirts!
But, wait! This top was reduced. Reduced AND transparent. WHO'S WEARING THIS STUFF AND WHAT ARE THEY WEARING UNDER IT?
Okay...okay...
I liked these a lot. In one size they were too big in the hips and the next size smaller was too tight. And, in this picture, they certainly aren't very flattering in the calf area, are they?
Guess what? SEE THROUGH.
I tried on four or five other pairs of pants and they were all awful, so I distracted myself with -
half a sweater. Cropped! I mean cropped. Sadly, on me, it looked like I was trying to wear children's clothing.
How about this?
It's Anthro as interpreted by Gap. I can hear them in the meeting: hey, this funky over-stitched, pin-tucked look works over at Anthropologie - lets have it close with hooks and eyes! Aside from having a marching band/nurse uniform with embroidery kind of feel, I found myself obsessing about how to wash it. Those are little fabric covered balls running down the front of it and they were getting dirty on the hanger!
I didn't buy anything and I'm feeling very smug about it. Like I saved about five hundred bucks. Leave me alone - I'll get over it when I don't have any pants to wear to work.
Here's my report:
While I no longer look like Busty McPreggers in this kind of top, when I think about wearing it to the office I can only picture myself with Heidi braids and a milking stool.
Call it a nightgown, call it a beach cover-up, but don't call it a dress. Also? It's see-through. (My personal favorite.)
I know, I know, I need pants and skirts!
But, wait! This top was reduced. Reduced AND transparent. WHO'S WEARING THIS STUFF AND WHAT ARE THEY WEARING UNDER IT?
Okay...okay...
I liked these a lot. In one size they were too big in the hips and the next size smaller was too tight. And, in this picture, they certainly aren't very flattering in the calf area, are they?
Guess what? SEE THROUGH.
I tried on four or five other pairs of pants and they were all awful, so I distracted myself with -
half a sweater. Cropped! I mean cropped. Sadly, on me, it looked like I was trying to wear children's clothing.
How about this?
It's Anthro as interpreted by Gap. I can hear them in the meeting: hey, this funky over-stitched, pin-tucked look works over at Anthropologie - lets have it close with hooks and eyes! Aside from having a marching band/nurse uniform with embroidery kind of feel, I found myself obsessing about how to wash it. Those are little fabric covered balls running down the front of it and they were getting dirty on the hanger!
I didn't buy anything and I'm feeling very smug about it. Like I saved about five hundred bucks. Leave me alone - I'll get over it when I don't have any pants to wear to work.
fun on a Sunday night
You know what's kind of fun?
Sitting around watching Ocean's Twelve whilst surfing the internet.
Checking the site meter and seeing a spike in hits in the past hour.
Clicking back through the referral and seeing this:
The movie is good too.
Sitting around watching Ocean's Twelve whilst surfing the internet.
Checking the site meter and seeing a spike in hits in the past hour.
Clicking back through the referral and seeing this:
The movie is good too.
burgers
My friend, J and I have determined that we must taste all the good hamburgers that our fair city has to offer, within a certain radius.
The first place we visited is owned by a very famous chef. This, decidedly theatrical, hole in the wall restaurant provided us with some very fine burgers. Nicely cooked, not too terribly huge, yet not mingy - with good fries, slightly crisp, which tasted like potato. (You'd be amazed how many fries taste nothing like potato.) Looking back, I'm a little disappointed that I didn't order the $11 shake, but, at the time, I couldn't imagine drinking it. There was groovy music playing and the waitstaff was helpful and fun and friendly and it was good. I'd give it a seven.
The second place we went to was a bit of a hike away from the office but was "the real thing." It was an old diner and we were the only women there - surrounded by construction workers. J had heard that the chef at this diner got his beef from a well known butcher and this, reportedly, made for fabulous burgers. They were good - as was the homemade pie. But the atmosphere was a little too down and dirty for me. I was distracted as it was, just slightly, possible, that there would be a fly in the soup, so to speak. They did, however, have amazing homemade lemonade. I gave them a six.
On Friday, J and I took a short train ride to a restaurant highly rated for their beef/lamb burger.
By the time we got there I was starving. It was a teeny place with ten or twelve tables squished next to each other with a vague Anthropologie decor. The waitstaff was friendly with just a smidge of city attitude and we were seated next to a recognizable actress and her daughter (who excused herself to throw up mid-meal) engaged in a very loud iPhone tutorial. Ah...but - in the end, none of this mattered. The burger? Sublime. Served on a toasted english muffin (what ARE they called in England?) with fresh herb butter dripping, it was perfectly cooked and topped with an excellent cheddar cheese. The fries were damn near perfect too. BUT WAIT: THERE'S MORE.
We decided to split a dessert. Cherries, steeped in brandy, deep fried in beer batter and then rolled in sugar and tiny specs of chocolate. Each of these ingredients was distinct. It was a wonderful dessert to order as it seemed to be incredibly labor intensive - the kind of dish one could not hope to make at home. Sweet and tangy and rich, the brandy was never over-powering but very much there, the chocolate was not cloying but definitely a flavor. I could go on and on. BUT, the thing is: because it took an extra ten minutes to GET our dessert, the chef sent another dessert as a gift...Citrus custard with creme fraiche. Now, under normal circumstances I might not bother to order citrus custard. BUT THIS citrus custard was creamy and wonderful and had the nicest flavor. Paired with the creme fraiche and served in a tiny pot with a lid, we dolloped it onto almost savory cookies. Sublime.
We ambled back to the office and I'll tell you, it's a good thing my boss was out of town as it took me a while to work off the effects of such a meal and focus on my afternoon tasks.
I'll give them a nine.
The first place we visited is owned by a very famous chef. This, decidedly theatrical, hole in the wall restaurant provided us with some very fine burgers. Nicely cooked, not too terribly huge, yet not mingy - with good fries, slightly crisp, which tasted like potato. (You'd be amazed how many fries taste nothing like potato.) Looking back, I'm a little disappointed that I didn't order the $11 shake, but, at the time, I couldn't imagine drinking it. There was groovy music playing and the waitstaff was helpful and fun and friendly and it was good. I'd give it a seven.
The second place we went to was a bit of a hike away from the office but was "the real thing." It was an old diner and we were the only women there - surrounded by construction workers. J had heard that the chef at this diner got his beef from a well known butcher and this, reportedly, made for fabulous burgers. They were good - as was the homemade pie. But the atmosphere was a little too down and dirty for me. I was distracted as it was, just slightly, possible, that there would be a fly in the soup, so to speak. They did, however, have amazing homemade lemonade. I gave them a six.
On Friday, J and I took a short train ride to a restaurant highly rated for their beef/lamb burger.
By the time we got there I was starving. It was a teeny place with ten or twelve tables squished next to each other with a vague Anthropologie decor. The waitstaff was friendly with just a smidge of city attitude and we were seated next to a recognizable actress and her daughter (who excused herself to throw up mid-meal) engaged in a very loud iPhone tutorial. Ah...but - in the end, none of this mattered. The burger? Sublime. Served on a toasted english muffin (what ARE they called in England?) with fresh herb butter dripping, it was perfectly cooked and topped with an excellent cheddar cheese. The fries were damn near perfect too. BUT WAIT: THERE'S MORE.
We decided to split a dessert. Cherries, steeped in brandy, deep fried in beer batter and then rolled in sugar and tiny specs of chocolate. Each of these ingredients was distinct. It was a wonderful dessert to order as it seemed to be incredibly labor intensive - the kind of dish one could not hope to make at home. Sweet and tangy and rich, the brandy was never over-powering but very much there, the chocolate was not cloying but definitely a flavor. I could go on and on. BUT, the thing is: because it took an extra ten minutes to GET our dessert, the chef sent another dessert as a gift...Citrus custard with creme fraiche. Now, under normal circumstances I might not bother to order citrus custard. BUT THIS citrus custard was creamy and wonderful and had the nicest flavor. Paired with the creme fraiche and served in a tiny pot with a lid, we dolloped it onto almost savory cookies. Sublime.
We ambled back to the office and I'll tell you, it's a good thing my boss was out of town as it took me a while to work off the effects of such a meal and focus on my afternoon tasks.
I'll give them a nine.
Survivor, the very long week edition
It's night 18.
Taj is awfully glad it wasn't her that got sent home. We are too.
Stephen is NOT having FUN.
The Jalapeno team is down to four sad members.
JT tells us SOMETHING.
Who the heck is Debbie?
Seems like we are mid-season.
Where's Erinn? Is she out? Has she lost enough weight to have dropped that second N?
Cascade dish detergent can clean the moon!
(Okay, I'm punchy. I wrenched my neck yesterday and it has left me slightly dizzy.)
The scene opens with dramatic, operatic music while Coach does yoga in the water. Everything has "just clicked" for him and he is centered and ready for action.
THIS is his episode - or is it?
He gives his team neck massages, thereby endearing himself slightly. But only slightly as he's still a major PITA what with the tossing of hair and King And I attitude - if you follow me.
Meanwhile, Joe's leg is looking mighty pus-filled. (Were you eating just then? Sorry.) The camera cuts to a shot of a vulture. Oh, those editors are sly, aren't they? We're pretty sure he needs an IV drip of antibiotics - but what do we know?
It's day 19 and there's Tyra Mail --- sorry, TREE mail.
It's news of a challenge that will "get your head spinning." The reward is a feast, and though a merge seems imminent, JT is not ready for it. He feels it's "like pissing in a fan."
Yep. We're pretty sure he said LIKE PISSING IN A FAN. Or maybe a PAN. I don't know!
Both teams arrive at the feast and, of course, find out that there is a merge. They enjoy their food and receive nice new green buffs.
They will reside at the Timbira camp. (I think that's the black team.) Coach feels very much in control of the game. That's never good, is it?
Sierra wants to talk about votes and, when people hear this, they immediately shut up.
Stephen is wary. I'm pretty sure I say that every week but he always has this look on his face like he's in shock.
After the feast everyone but Joe returns to camp...Jeff wants the medics to look at his infected leg.
At the new camp (the team has named themselves Forza) JT cannot believe the shelter.
Coach does some fly fishing and JT explains that he's a bait fisherman. Or, maybe I just intuitively KNOW that JT is a bait fisherman - not that there's anything WRONG with being a bait fisherman...it's just that there 's big difference, personality-wise. (Am I digging a hole here?)
So, anyway, Coach and JT bond over fishing and just when I think JT isn't so stupid he goes and tells Coach all kinds of stuff - including the fact that Taj has an idol.
Coach tells us that HE never lies.
JT tells us that HE wants to make sure that everyone in camp hates each other.
Dr. Lucy, who has a great accent, decides that there's a bunch of pus in Joe's leg and that it will not heal on it's own and that's it for Joe.
The Exile Alliance is still in effect but I'll be damned if I could tell you all the people in it.
I can't imagine keeping track of all this without notes.
Maybe, next season, I'll JUST FREAKIN WATCH SURVIVOR AND NOT TAKE NOTES.
Nah.
Sigh.
Back at camp, the team debates who should leave. It rains.
Rice and beans and alliances are discussed.
Taj is obsessed with her teeth!
Coach "isn't telling any lies."
This stuff is like a Fellini film. With monkeys.
Sierra? Brendan? Split the vote? Make Brendan use the idol?
Jeff arrives to tell them about Joe and explain that no one else will go home.
Tribal is canceled.
We are DEAD TIRED over here, I'll TELL YOU.
WORKINGWORKINGWORKING and the ER AND the doctor's office AND treatments during the night AND I'm glad we don't have a new baby, cause this waking up in the middle of night business IS A KILLER.
Youngest finally turned the corner today, though - so we are hoping for a full night of sleep.
You know, every Friday night I say to the boys: the rule for tomorrow is that we all sleep very late, and I make my very serious face and say it with a firm voice.
They smirk at me and go off to their rooms.
THEN, at SEVEN IN THE MORNING the damn dog whines for her breakfast, or the garbage men wake me, or my alarm goes off.
So, tonight, I'm turning off the alarm, closing my door so I can't hear the dog and not putting the trash out so they don't stop in front of my house.
Will I sleep late?
Don't hold your breath.
xo
bb
Taj is awfully glad it wasn't her that got sent home. We are too.
Stephen is NOT having FUN.
The Jalapeno team is down to four sad members.
JT tells us SOMETHING.
Who the heck is Debbie?
Seems like we are mid-season.
Where's Erinn? Is she out? Has she lost enough weight to have dropped that second N?
Cascade dish detergent can clean the moon!
(Okay, I'm punchy. I wrenched my neck yesterday and it has left me slightly dizzy.)
The scene opens with dramatic, operatic music while Coach does yoga in the water. Everything has "just clicked" for him and he is centered and ready for action.
THIS is his episode - or is it?
He gives his team neck massages, thereby endearing himself slightly. But only slightly as he's still a major PITA what with the tossing of hair and King And I attitude - if you follow me.
Meanwhile, Joe's leg is looking mighty pus-filled. (Were you eating just then? Sorry.) The camera cuts to a shot of a vulture. Oh, those editors are sly, aren't they? We're pretty sure he needs an IV drip of antibiotics - but what do we know?
It's day 19 and there's Tyra Mail --- sorry, TREE mail.
It's news of a challenge that will "get your head spinning." The reward is a feast, and though a merge seems imminent, JT is not ready for it. He feels it's "like pissing in a fan."
Yep. We're pretty sure he said LIKE PISSING IN A FAN. Or maybe a PAN. I don't know!
Both teams arrive at the feast and, of course, find out that there is a merge. They enjoy their food and receive nice new green buffs.
They will reside at the Timbira camp. (I think that's the black team.) Coach feels very much in control of the game. That's never good, is it?
Sierra wants to talk about votes and, when people hear this, they immediately shut up.
Stephen is wary. I'm pretty sure I say that every week but he always has this look on his face like he's in shock.
After the feast everyone but Joe returns to camp...Jeff wants the medics to look at his infected leg.
At the new camp (the team has named themselves Forza) JT cannot believe the shelter.
Coach does some fly fishing and JT explains that he's a bait fisherman. Or, maybe I just intuitively KNOW that JT is a bait fisherman - not that there's anything WRONG with being a bait fisherman...it's just that there 's big difference, personality-wise. (Am I digging a hole here?)
So, anyway, Coach and JT bond over fishing and just when I think JT isn't so stupid he goes and tells Coach all kinds of stuff - including the fact that Taj has an idol.
Coach tells us that HE never lies.
JT tells us that HE wants to make sure that everyone in camp hates each other.
Dr. Lucy, who has a great accent, decides that there's a bunch of pus in Joe's leg and that it will not heal on it's own and that's it for Joe.
The Exile Alliance is still in effect but I'll be damned if I could tell you all the people in it.
I can't imagine keeping track of all this without notes.
Maybe, next season, I'll JUST FREAKIN WATCH SURVIVOR AND NOT TAKE NOTES.
Nah.
Sigh.
Back at camp, the team debates who should leave. It rains.
Rice and beans and alliances are discussed.
Taj is obsessed with her teeth!
Coach "isn't telling any lies."
This stuff is like a Fellini film. With monkeys.
Sierra? Brendan? Split the vote? Make Brendan use the idol?
Jeff arrives to tell them about Joe and explain that no one else will go home.
Tribal is canceled.
We are DEAD TIRED over here, I'll TELL YOU.
WORKINGWORKINGWORKING and the ER AND the doctor's office AND treatments during the night AND I'm glad we don't have a new baby, cause this waking up in the middle of night business IS A KILLER.
Youngest finally turned the corner today, though - so we are hoping for a full night of sleep.
You know, every Friday night I say to the boys: the rule for tomorrow is that we all sleep very late, and I make my very serious face and say it with a firm voice.
They smirk at me and go off to their rooms.
THEN, at SEVEN IN THE MORNING the damn dog whines for her breakfast, or the garbage men wake me, or my alarm goes off.
So, tonight, I'm turning off the alarm, closing my door so I can't hear the dog and not putting the trash out so they don't stop in front of my house.
Will I sleep late?
Don't hold your breath.
xo
bb
tagged
Waiting for real content?
Me too! (On some level.)
In the meantime, I've been tagged by the incomparable Irene.
With few words and perfect pictures, Irene transforms me...I'm the mother of little boys again, and my husband (our husbands work in the same industry) travels an awful lot. Irene is lucky, though. She lives in Paris. And Irene has the internet to talk to at the end of long days alone with her boys while her husband travels to distant and exotic places and tells her of wonderful restaurants and amazing hotels. Oh, wait - that last part is me. I'm not sure where Irene's husband travels.
ANYWAY, Irene tagged me and while our perspectives are similar, I'm nearly 20 years down the road from her...
5 things I love about being a mom:
They are wonderful to sit and talk with, my boys. I like to hear their plans and think about their dreams and find out what music they are listening to. They each have their own sense of humor too, which I love. Oldest is the most sophomoric, Middle is incredibly dry and Youngest is still honing but likes a good gag.
I love that I thought that the three of them would fall to pieces when I went to work last fall and that each of them has stepped up, taken control and charge of his life and enjoys it. Youngest told me, recently, that he loves that I am out when he gets home.
They are now, each, taller than me. (How's the grammar there? Terrible?) I was standing in the kitchen with them last weekend, and I am not especially tall, and neither are they, but all three of them are taller than me. There we were, standing together, me and my tall boys. Lovely.
Though tall and independent, Youngest still needs some mothering when he is ill. While I don't like him being so sick, it is one of the only opportunities I have to be his mom in ways I am less and less able to - by providing hands-on care. I don't get far. After asking him several times if I could get him a blanket in the hospital the other night, he got very cranky with me and I had to back off. I'd never get away with holding his hand. I love still being able to "mother" just a little.
Each of them turns to me for advice they are not comfortable asking K for. Not because they want to hide things from him but because they want my perspective - usually because I am A GIRL. They don't say a whole lot but have come to me when they are distressed or happy or wondering about GIRLS. Not always. Not every time. But I like it.
Hmm. Turned out there was some content there after all.
It's Survivor night. Mom's bringing chicken soup. Perfect timing.
(special note to Tutta: can I have your email address? )
Me too! (On some level.)
In the meantime, I've been tagged by the incomparable Irene.
With few words and perfect pictures, Irene transforms me...I'm the mother of little boys again, and my husband (our husbands work in the same industry) travels an awful lot. Irene is lucky, though. She lives in Paris. And Irene has the internet to talk to at the end of long days alone with her boys while her husband travels to distant and exotic places and tells her of wonderful restaurants and amazing hotels. Oh, wait - that last part is me. I'm not sure where Irene's husband travels.
ANYWAY, Irene tagged me and while our perspectives are similar, I'm nearly 20 years down the road from her...
5 things I love about being a mom:
They are wonderful to sit and talk with, my boys. I like to hear their plans and think about their dreams and find out what music they are listening to. They each have their own sense of humor too, which I love. Oldest is the most sophomoric, Middle is incredibly dry and Youngest is still honing but likes a good gag.
I love that I thought that the three of them would fall to pieces when I went to work last fall and that each of them has stepped up, taken control and charge of his life and enjoys it. Youngest told me, recently, that he loves that I am out when he gets home.
They are now, each, taller than me. (How's the grammar there? Terrible?) I was standing in the kitchen with them last weekend, and I am not especially tall, and neither are they, but all three of them are taller than me. There we were, standing together, me and my tall boys. Lovely.
Though tall and independent, Youngest still needs some mothering when he is ill. While I don't like him being so sick, it is one of the only opportunities I have to be his mom in ways I am less and less able to - by providing hands-on care. I don't get far. After asking him several times if I could get him a blanket in the hospital the other night, he got very cranky with me and I had to back off. I'd never get away with holding his hand. I love still being able to "mother" just a little.
Each of them turns to me for advice they are not comfortable asking K for. Not because they want to hide things from him but because they want my perspective - usually because I am A GIRL. They don't say a whole lot but have come to me when they are distressed or happy or wondering about GIRLS. Not always. Not every time. But I like it.
Hmm. Turned out there was some content there after all.
It's Survivor night. Mom's bringing chicken soup. Perfect timing.
(special note to Tutta: can I have your email address? )
I know, right?
Look. It's like this:
fabulous boss gives me Rosé.
- Gently suggests that it will change my mind about pink wine. Perfect with a frittata and salad for Sunday lunch, we concur!
And, lo, he is right. And my opinion of pink wine is forever changed. But, more importantly, lo, he is a pleasure to work for.
And then? A party for my delightful cousin, E, who is having a baby.
Yes. All babies need knitted monkey backpacks.
And, LO, though I am jaded and crabby, this gathering of women to celebrate the coming motherhood of my cousin was lovely.
(The sun does help.)
With heartfelt toasts and tea...
(the gentlemen went across the street for burgers)
With petite edibles -
and tender moments...
with beautiful babies in attendance -
we celebrated, uh, the circle of life.
Corny, I know, but there we were, a flock of women, celebrating one among us who will be a new mom.
It makes me misty.
Next? A trip to the movies with my boys. We saw Monsters Vs. Aliens and, I have to say, it was not bad! This equals a rave from me as it took some convincing to get me to attend a kid movie with so many great adult choices out there. Is it a bad thing that I was enamoured of the lead character's hair? The lead character who WAS A CARTOON? Ah, well - such is life. I was also pleased that "Susan" was the star of said movie and, flawed though she was, she was a lovely hero.
Where does that bring me to? Monday?
Off to work - new dress from Muji, a date set with Loretta, thoughts with our Paola's brethren, and THEN: Youngest has an asthma attack.
I got home from work and had to determine if he could get along until mid-afternoon of the next day and see the doctor and decided to bring him to the emergency room. Many Tuvaluan parents had the same idea, it turned out, and we were there until two in the morning. Xrays and treatments and many uncomfortable hours later we were in our beds.
Off to work, just a few hours later. I sleep-walked through the day but survived! And so did Youngest, who does not have pneumonia, and is taking his medication and had some chest PT and is doing better.
And so it is Wednesday.
And Easter is on the horizon.
I'm planning on putting away the winter clothes this weekend.
I'll keep you posted.
fabulous boss gives me Rosé.
- Gently suggests that it will change my mind about pink wine. Perfect with a frittata and salad for Sunday lunch, we concur!
And, lo, he is right. And my opinion of pink wine is forever changed. But, more importantly, lo, he is a pleasure to work for.
And then? A party for my delightful cousin, E, who is having a baby.
Yes. All babies need knitted monkey backpacks.
And, LO, though I am jaded and crabby, this gathering of women to celebrate the coming motherhood of my cousin was lovely.
(The sun does help.)
With heartfelt toasts and tea...
(the gentlemen went across the street for burgers)
With petite edibles -
and tender moments...
with beautiful babies in attendance -
we celebrated, uh, the circle of life.
Corny, I know, but there we were, a flock of women, celebrating one among us who will be a new mom.
It makes me misty.
Next? A trip to the movies with my boys. We saw Monsters Vs. Aliens and, I have to say, it was not bad! This equals a rave from me as it took some convincing to get me to attend a kid movie with so many great adult choices out there. Is it a bad thing that I was enamoured of the lead character's hair? The lead character who WAS A CARTOON? Ah, well - such is life. I was also pleased that "Susan" was the star of said movie and, flawed though she was, she was a lovely hero.
Where does that bring me to? Monday?
Off to work - new dress from Muji, a date set with Loretta, thoughts with our Paola's brethren, and THEN: Youngest has an asthma attack.
I got home from work and had to determine if he could get along until mid-afternoon of the next day and see the doctor and decided to bring him to the emergency room. Many Tuvaluan parents had the same idea, it turned out, and we were there until two in the morning. Xrays and treatments and many uncomfortable hours later we were in our beds.
Off to work, just a few hours later. I sleep-walked through the day but survived! And so did Youngest, who does not have pneumonia, and is taking his medication and had some chest PT and is doing better.
And so it is Wednesday.
And Easter is on the horizon.
I'm planning on putting away the winter clothes this weekend.
I'll keep you posted.
it seems there are not enough hours
And then, to pound out a post and have it vanish...and that's what it takes sometimes: sitting and making time to pound out post. Like taking the time to wipe down the bathrooms. This is tough stuff and I'd advocate for a four day work week.
It doesn't mean the blush is off the rose. I'm loving it still.
Anyway.
On Friday, we were dismayed to see a woman with two toddlers board our morning train. Okay, maybe I was dismayed - K is the kind of person who can become irritated when the aluminum foil won't unroll properly but he is very tolerant of noise and distraction. Me? Not so much.
She brought them in and sat them in the facing seats in the middle of the car. The boy looked about two years old and his sister could not have been older than three. The mom had a rolling suitcase and, at the sight of her, one of the women already sitting in the facing seats, fled - a nervous look on her face.
She was one of those moms who narrates: I know, Charlie, it's very exciting to be going to Massachusetts on the train...Now, Hannah, we mustn't put our mouth on the window...which I do not criticize (though it's not my style) but merely report.
I put on my iPod soon after she arrived as I didn't want to listen to the narration of Charlie and Hannah's trip, but even Moby couldn't drown out the strains of Mommy placing a speaker-phone call to Daddy so Charlie and Hannah could tell him they were on the train. My fellow passengers did not look happy, I'm sure I didn't either. Loud phone calls are looked upon harshly and this was above and beyond.
At some point I began to think of how she could have done it better. I mean: to travel at rush hour? alone with toddlers and luggage? from this train to the next...a car service into town maybe? A friend to come along for this first part of the journey to help wrangle? Driving instead of training? I talked to K a little about it but he wouldn't entertain my line of thought. This was the way she was traveling and he implied that I should shut up about it. And I did.
When the train pulled in, a man was kind enough to help her with her suitcase as she helped the little ones up the stairs. (The filthy stairs.) People were patient as the kids climbed slowly. I let my aggravation fade and then felt terrible - for her, about me, how could I only be doing this for only six months and be so jaded? How could I, so easily, forget dragging a new baby and a six year old, with a car seat and a stroller through two airports - alone. I felt ashamed of myself and spent some time feeling sorry for myself and her.
But she did it. She got them to the next train - they were on their way and I had my Friday. My toddler-free, get my coffee, lunch with grown-ups, important business Friday. I wore go-to-work clothes and didn't cut up food for a little one and did very little mothering. I was, for the very first time in many many years, completely independent.
When I got home, having had a long hard week, K took care of me.
My boys asked how things were.
Oldest stopped telling a story so I could tell mine.
And, after reading all of that - I'd like, very much, for you to read this, for Rae and I could not have more different lives.
Such
different
lives...and yet, I felt every single word she wrote as if I was living them.
It doesn't mean the blush is off the rose. I'm loving it still.
Anyway.
On Friday, we were dismayed to see a woman with two toddlers board our morning train. Okay, maybe I was dismayed - K is the kind of person who can become irritated when the aluminum foil won't unroll properly but he is very tolerant of noise and distraction. Me? Not so much.
She brought them in and sat them in the facing seats in the middle of the car. The boy looked about two years old and his sister could not have been older than three. The mom had a rolling suitcase and, at the sight of her, one of the women already sitting in the facing seats, fled - a nervous look on her face.
She was one of those moms who narrates: I know, Charlie, it's very exciting to be going to Massachusetts on the train...Now, Hannah, we mustn't put our mouth on the window...which I do not criticize (though it's not my style) but merely report.
I put on my iPod soon after she arrived as I didn't want to listen to the narration of Charlie and Hannah's trip, but even Moby couldn't drown out the strains of Mommy placing a speaker-phone call to Daddy so Charlie and Hannah could tell him they were on the train. My fellow passengers did not look happy, I'm sure I didn't either. Loud phone calls are looked upon harshly and this was above and beyond.
At some point I began to think of how she could have done it better. I mean: to travel at rush hour? alone with toddlers and luggage? from this train to the next...a car service into town maybe? A friend to come along for this first part of the journey to help wrangle? Driving instead of training? I talked to K a little about it but he wouldn't entertain my line of thought. This was the way she was traveling and he implied that I should shut up about it. And I did.
When the train pulled in, a man was kind enough to help her with her suitcase as she helped the little ones up the stairs. (The filthy stairs.) People were patient as the kids climbed slowly. I let my aggravation fade and then felt terrible - for her, about me, how could I only be doing this for only six months and be so jaded? How could I, so easily, forget dragging a new baby and a six year old, with a car seat and a stroller through two airports - alone. I felt ashamed of myself and spent some time feeling sorry for myself and her.
But she did it. She got them to the next train - they were on their way and I had my Friday. My toddler-free, get my coffee, lunch with grown-ups, important business Friday. I wore go-to-work clothes and didn't cut up food for a little one and did very little mothering. I was, for the very first time in many many years, completely independent.
When I got home, having had a long hard week, K took care of me.
My boys asked how things were.
Oldest stopped telling a story so I could tell mine.
And, after reading all of that - I'd like, very much, for you to read this, for Rae and I could not have more different lives.
Such
different
lives...and yet, I felt every single word she wrote as if I was living them.
Saturday
Did I mention that Middle's cell phone fell into a storm drain?
I'm mentioning it.
K managed, with a broom-stick, a rake and a roll of duct tape, to retrieve it. It's disassembled and sitting in a big jar of rice to dry out.
I'll keep you posted.
Updated to add:
A valiant effort but the phone only vibrates when reassembled.
Also? I wrote five more paragraphs for this post and blogger ate them. Am too frustrated to re-write them.
I'm mentioning it.
K managed, with a broom-stick, a rake and a roll of duct tape, to retrieve it. It's disassembled and sitting in a big jar of rice to dry out.
I'll keep you posted.
Updated to add:
A valiant effort but the phone only vibrates when reassembled.
Also? I wrote five more paragraphs for this post and blogger ate them. Am too frustrated to re-write them.
Survivor, the Back In The Saddle Again edition
I've lost track of just about everything. Is Taj still there? Yeah. Spencer went home.
11 are left.
It's night 15 and I still can't understand what JT is saying. "If we were to lose again, it's gonna be a tugrogneding."
Sydney is nervous but gorgeous. And we ALL know that THAT is the reason to keep people on the team, right?
During the commercial, mom and I discuss the legality of wearing a turtleneck after April 1st.
How scary is that commercial for Doubt? Scary, I tell you.
What a day I had!
I won't go into it.
Can The Guiding Light REALLY have been on for 72 years? My mother debates it. 72 YEARS she shouts.
There hasn't been television for 72 years, I counter.
THAT'S WHY NO ONE WATCHED IT, she volleys back with.
Are the beans cooked or not?
Coach is pissing people off.
The beans are burnt because he didn't tend to them.
But he takes full responsibility for messing up the beans.
The whole bean topic takes a long long time.
At Jalapaloj, there are only 5 tribe members left and they are eating beans too. JT is narrating - so I've got nothing for you.
Taj says she's going to tell JT she has the idol. Stephen isn't happy with this, but I'm a little confused - whose idea was it to suspend programming with a recap show? I'M LOST.
Fortunately, I'm saved by a challenge. Each tribe builds a barricade in the opposing tribe's frame and then each tribe must throw ceramic pigs through it. Don't get it? Neither do I. Did I mention I had a bad day?
The reward is a barbecue at a waterfall.
It's more about catching the ceramic pigs than it is throwing them through the barricades, but whatev.
Gosh, ten minutes is a long time when you are throwing and catching ceramic pigs.
It's neck and neck with one minute left.
Timbira win...and judging by their reaction, I'd say they haven't won in a while.
They send Joe to Exile. He picks Erinn to go with him as he feels he can charm Erinn to flipping teams after the merge.
JT wraps up for us - and you know what that means.
The waterfall locale is certainly beautiful. Burgers are cooking on the grill and there are all kinds of fixings. They eat "like animals" and then go for a swim in crystal clear water. Everyone is happy and enjoying themselves.
At Exile, which isn't an island at ALL, Erinn and Joe pick their clues. Erinn knows that the idol is not at Exile and tries to figure out if she can trust Joe. They build a fire and Erinn reads him the clue. Joe figures they will each get the idol and make an alliance.
Taj and Stephen plan on making a fake idol to put in the special spot. Taj gets to work and makes a pretty decent looking fake and hides it where the real idol was. JT goes to grab a bag to take fishing and finds the idol that Stephen has hidden. Stephen lies and says that Taj has just found it and acts surprised. Then he tells Taj that she should tell JT...and she does. He tells her that he has already seen it. She tells him he can have it if he needs it. JT has complete trust in Taj and Stephen.
C'mon in guys! Time for the immunity challenge!
Using a sling shot, each time must break tiles to release puzzle pieces and solve the puzzle.
I will say that there have been fewer puzzle challenges this season...but still....
Timbira is way ahead as JT continues to miss the final tile...proving that he is the star of this episode. He finally breaks the last tile - will it be in time? OH, THE DRAMA.
Timbira win.
JT is so sad.
Sydney tells us that it's not a good thing to go to Tribal Council. Isn't she smart?
Joe has an injury! An infected leg! He keeps mum about Exile and runs off to get the fake idol while the rest of the team giggle. He lobbies to vote Taj out - and Sydney buys it but Taj knows that she has Stephen and JT to protect her. Plus, she has the idol. Steve makes a case for keeping Taj, but Joe isn't sure. He says he might give Sydney the idol to make a point if they vote her out. It's getting dicey - lots of talking - lots of plotting. Stephen tells JT it's HIS idol - they contemplate voting out Taj. No one knows what they are doing.
I'm pretty sure JT tells us that he's "going to hell."
Finally, we are at Tribal. There is talk of a merge. Is their vote based on trust or the possibility of a merge? It is better to have an alliance or to be loyal to the team? Everyone looks pretty miserable. JT has the last word and I CANNOT UNDERSTAND HIM. Is anyone talking about voting HIM out? They all look like they are crying!
Jeff reads the votes: Sydney vs Taj. Tied, but Sydney goes. We are happy. We like Taj and we like the way she plays.
11 are left.
It's night 15 and I still can't understand what JT is saying. "If we were to lose again, it's gonna be a tugrogneding."
Sydney is nervous but gorgeous. And we ALL know that THAT is the reason to keep people on the team, right?
During the commercial, mom and I discuss the legality of wearing a turtleneck after April 1st.
How scary is that commercial for Doubt? Scary, I tell you.
What a day I had!
I won't go into it.
Can The Guiding Light REALLY have been on for 72 years? My mother debates it. 72 YEARS she shouts.
There hasn't been television for 72 years, I counter.
THAT'S WHY NO ONE WATCHED IT, she volleys back with.
Are the beans cooked or not?
Coach is pissing people off.
The beans are burnt because he didn't tend to them.
But he takes full responsibility for messing up the beans.
The whole bean topic takes a long long time.
At Jalapaloj, there are only 5 tribe members left and they are eating beans too. JT is narrating - so I've got nothing for you.
Taj says she's going to tell JT she has the idol. Stephen isn't happy with this, but I'm a little confused - whose idea was it to suspend programming with a recap show? I'M LOST.
Fortunately, I'm saved by a challenge. Each tribe builds a barricade in the opposing tribe's frame and then each tribe must throw ceramic pigs through it. Don't get it? Neither do I. Did I mention I had a bad day?
The reward is a barbecue at a waterfall.
It's more about catching the ceramic pigs than it is throwing them through the barricades, but whatev.
Gosh, ten minutes is a long time when you are throwing and catching ceramic pigs.
It's neck and neck with one minute left.
Timbira win...and judging by their reaction, I'd say they haven't won in a while.
They send Joe to Exile. He picks Erinn to go with him as he feels he can charm Erinn to flipping teams after the merge.
JT wraps up for us - and you know what that means.
The waterfall locale is certainly beautiful. Burgers are cooking on the grill and there are all kinds of fixings. They eat "like animals" and then go for a swim in crystal clear water. Everyone is happy and enjoying themselves.
At Exile, which isn't an island at ALL, Erinn and Joe pick their clues. Erinn knows that the idol is not at Exile and tries to figure out if she can trust Joe. They build a fire and Erinn reads him the clue. Joe figures they will each get the idol and make an alliance.
Taj and Stephen plan on making a fake idol to put in the special spot. Taj gets to work and makes a pretty decent looking fake and hides it where the real idol was. JT goes to grab a bag to take fishing and finds the idol that Stephen has hidden. Stephen lies and says that Taj has just found it and acts surprised. Then he tells Taj that she should tell JT...and she does. He tells her that he has already seen it. She tells him he can have it if he needs it. JT has complete trust in Taj and Stephen.
C'mon in guys! Time for the immunity challenge!
Using a sling shot, each time must break tiles to release puzzle pieces and solve the puzzle.
I will say that there have been fewer puzzle challenges this season...but still....
Timbira is way ahead as JT continues to miss the final tile...proving that he is the star of this episode. He finally breaks the last tile - will it be in time? OH, THE DRAMA.
Timbira win.
JT is so sad.
Sydney tells us that it's not a good thing to go to Tribal Council. Isn't she smart?
Joe has an injury! An infected leg! He keeps mum about Exile and runs off to get the fake idol while the rest of the team giggle. He lobbies to vote Taj out - and Sydney buys it but Taj knows that she has Stephen and JT to protect her. Plus, she has the idol. Steve makes a case for keeping Taj, but Joe isn't sure. He says he might give Sydney the idol to make a point if they vote her out. It's getting dicey - lots of talking - lots of plotting. Stephen tells JT it's HIS idol - they contemplate voting out Taj. No one knows what they are doing.
I'm pretty sure JT tells us that he's "going to hell."
Finally, we are at Tribal. There is talk of a merge. Is their vote based on trust or the possibility of a merge? It is better to have an alliance or to be loyal to the team? Everyone looks pretty miserable. JT has the last word and I CANNOT UNDERSTAND HIM. Is anyone talking about voting HIM out? They all look like they are crying!
Jeff reads the votes: Sydney vs Taj. Tied, but Sydney goes. We are happy. We like Taj and we like the way she plays.
notes from the commute
12 Minutes before my train:
The woman standing next to me has applied her eyeliner perfectly. Interestingly enough, she has painted on a thin line of soft brown and then another line of beige. I would never have considered this - the line of beige, but it looks very pretty on her.
A man, who at first appeared to be a vagrant is actually incredibly stylishly dressed. He is wearing a large overcoat and a jaunty hat but I realize that his accessories belie his true state. He has wonderful shoes and the coat is cut to appear over-sized. His shoes are pristine and the hat, upon closer inspection, is full of attitude. His look is carefully calculated.
1o minutes before my train:
A couple board the subway. She looks me over and looks at him. I'm wearing a sort of kooky hat. She sees it for what it is and gives him a look. (I'm listening to my iPod.) She says something to him, about me, I can tell. There is a quiet spot in my song and I hear her say: she can't hear us!
The lady to my left is wearing a terrific gold blouse. The fabric changes hue in the lights. She's very well put together and has a wonderful ring which I cannot get a good look at.
A woman gets on the train in a big black parka. She is not small but is wearing a tiny black skull cap. Tight grey ringlets peek their way out of the edges of the cap. She has twinkly eyes.
Next to her is a woman in a bright red vinyl coat. She has auburn hair. The coat and her hair match hues beautifully. Was this purposeful, this incredible match of hair and outerwear? I can only hope so.
The music from Run Lola Run comes on my iPod.
Seven minutes before my train:
A crowd of people board the subway. I am crushed between the woman with the gold blouse and a guy in a soccer jacket. He has an iPod too. He's smiling and bopping his head. Suddenly, I realize that his song and mine have the same beat.
Five minutes before my train:
I push my way out of the subway car, the music is timed perfectly.
I sprint for my train.
It feels good.
I dodge and weave through the crowd, spotting K near the walkway.
We rush to the train together, find our seats and settle in.
The woman standing next to me has applied her eyeliner perfectly. Interestingly enough, she has painted on a thin line of soft brown and then another line of beige. I would never have considered this - the line of beige, but it looks very pretty on her.
A man, who at first appeared to be a vagrant is actually incredibly stylishly dressed. He is wearing a large overcoat and a jaunty hat but I realize that his accessories belie his true state. He has wonderful shoes and the coat is cut to appear over-sized. His shoes are pristine and the hat, upon closer inspection, is full of attitude. His look is carefully calculated.
1o minutes before my train:
A couple board the subway. She looks me over and looks at him. I'm wearing a sort of kooky hat. She sees it for what it is and gives him a look. (I'm listening to my iPod.) She says something to him, about me, I can tell. There is a quiet spot in my song and I hear her say: she can't hear us!
The lady to my left is wearing a terrific gold blouse. The fabric changes hue in the lights. She's very well put together and has a wonderful ring which I cannot get a good look at.
A woman gets on the train in a big black parka. She is not small but is wearing a tiny black skull cap. Tight grey ringlets peek their way out of the edges of the cap. She has twinkly eyes.
Next to her is a woman in a bright red vinyl coat. She has auburn hair. The coat and her hair match hues beautifully. Was this purposeful, this incredible match of hair and outerwear? I can only hope so.
The music from Run Lola Run comes on my iPod.
Seven minutes before my train:
A crowd of people board the subway. I am crushed between the woman with the gold blouse and a guy in a soccer jacket. He has an iPod too. He's smiling and bopping his head. Suddenly, I realize that his song and mine have the same beat.
Five minutes before my train:
I push my way out of the subway car, the music is timed perfectly.
I sprint for my train.
It feels good.
I dodge and weave through the crowd, spotting K near the walkway.
We rush to the train together, find our seats and settle in.
we met on the internet
Or maybe I should say through the internet.
I don't even remember how or when I first heard about Wendy - I only knew she seemed to be a miracle worker. As handy with a hammer or some wood stain as she is with a needle and thread, the praises of Wendy were sung to me for a little while before I met her.
An expert thrifter, mom of three amazing kids, wife to a tall gorgeous guy (hmmm - just my type), I knew a lot about her by the time we met.
Somehow (it was probably Susie's work) I ended up as her house-guest and I got to see, first hand, how extraordinary her home and handicrafts and family were.
Anyway...rewind a bit to when I spied a huge book of fabric samples sitting next to the curb outside an upholstery shop near my house. Such a waste, I thought, and, being an expert trash-picker, I grabbed it. I held on to it for a couple of years, but when I met Wendy, I knew she'd eventually be inspired and know what to do with it.
Little did I know...
It arrived yesterday.
For a while I refused to take it completely out of the tote bag. (FOR A WHILE, I couldn't BELIEVE she made the tote bag, such was its professional quality.)
Eventually, one of the boys convinced me to unfold it.
My description cannot possibly do it justice. I keep running my hands over it.
IT'S SO FLAT.
(I know that's an odd thing to say but her seams are just SO SO SO perfect.)
The underside is the softest twill you can imagine. The label is gorgeous.
BUT, beach weather is far off, much as we are anxious to go...what to do?
WHAT TO DO?
I cannot bear to put it in a closet.
Call me crazy.
It's too beautiful to put away!
It won't last long -
the boys loved it too much to eat off....
Thank you Wendy, dear.
In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined that I'd end up with such a treasure.
Stay tuned for beach photos.
I don't even remember how or when I first heard about Wendy - I only knew she seemed to be a miracle worker. As handy with a hammer or some wood stain as she is with a needle and thread, the praises of Wendy were sung to me for a little while before I met her.
An expert thrifter, mom of three amazing kids, wife to a tall gorgeous guy (hmmm - just my type), I knew a lot about her by the time we met.
Somehow (it was probably Susie's work) I ended up as her house-guest and I got to see, first hand, how extraordinary her home and handicrafts and family were.
Anyway...rewind a bit to when I spied a huge book of fabric samples sitting next to the curb outside an upholstery shop near my house. Such a waste, I thought, and, being an expert trash-picker, I grabbed it. I held on to it for a couple of years, but when I met Wendy, I knew she'd eventually be inspired and know what to do with it.
Little did I know...
It arrived yesterday.
For a while I refused to take it completely out of the tote bag. (FOR A WHILE, I couldn't BELIEVE she made the tote bag, such was its professional quality.)
Eventually, one of the boys convinced me to unfold it.
My description cannot possibly do it justice. I keep running my hands over it.
IT'S SO FLAT.
(I know that's an odd thing to say but her seams are just SO SO SO perfect.)
The underside is the softest twill you can imagine. The label is gorgeous.
BUT, beach weather is far off, much as we are anxious to go...what to do?
WHAT TO DO?
I cannot bear to put it in a closet.
Call me crazy.
It's too beautiful to put away!
It won't last long -
the boys loved it too much to eat off....
Thank you Wendy, dear.
In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined that I'd end up with such a treasure.
Stay tuned for beach photos.
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