There's still lots of holiday action going on here in Tuvalu!
Watch these whilst I get my mammogram done!
If Shakespeare had meant it to be funny he'd have put a joke in it.
Do you know how difficult it IS to roll a sea kayak?
IT'S VERY DIFFICULT.
Babies!
this and that
I'm going to trim my bangs today.
They're bothering me and I'm not going into town and paying all kinds of money for my guy to trim them. I'll see him in a couple of weeks for a cut, okay?
I found this blog yesterday - no clue what lead me to it but it's grand. I spent a long time reading and smiling.
The Headphones have arrived. Middle is very very happy. Photos to follow.
It's terribly cold outside (18F with 40mph winds) and we have put the heavy wool blanket on our bed. (Aren't you glad you stopped by?) I keep thinking about Eleanor's family! (Actually, I corresponded a bit with Eleanor and I think they are napping and eating at odd hours as the jet lag has caught them.)
Amazon.com can be talked into Free One Day Shipping, I'm only saying. One must be patient, however, with the customer service people even when one suspects that there may be language difficulties.
Whilst speaking of my friends in the internet to K, I usually say something like: my Fluid Pudding friend's daughter swallowed a diamond...or, I wonder how my English friend would like this teacup...or, it looks like my Australian friend had a wonderful Christmas and then K will say: which Australian friend? the knitter? the one with the boys? or the one you are meeting up with?
Last evening we had dinner with our IRL Australian friend and his family. He made two lasagnas! One with meat and one with veg and I had a piece of each and THEN we dug into a Harrod's Christmas Pudding (with brandy) that a friend from London had brought me. WELL.
Let me just say that it was FLAMMABLE. Flammable, dear friends. Probably, also, it was the first alcohol-ish thing that Youngest has ever had. It was very delicious but I think I'll ask for one sans brandy next time.
How music is meant to be heard.
The case, which has his name on it but which I, cleverly, photoshopped out.
The small print. (They are clever too.)
The Headphones...
The Headphones: In His Ear And Out Of Focus.
Not only can Middle now hear Music as It IS Meant To Be Heard but he is completely and totally deaf to everything around him - which I could worry about but will choose not to.
Maybe.
(For those asking about him damaging his hearing with these headphones: we spoke to the audiologist who fitted him for them and they are actually better for one's ears as high volume is not needed to hear the music well.)
I think K is going to boost the memory in my laptop today. We've just realized that it has less than an iPod.
They're bothering me and I'm not going into town and paying all kinds of money for my guy to trim them. I'll see him in a couple of weeks for a cut, okay?
I found this blog yesterday - no clue what lead me to it but it's grand. I spent a long time reading and smiling.
The Headphones have arrived. Middle is very very happy. Photos to follow.
It's terribly cold outside (18F with 40mph winds) and we have put the heavy wool blanket on our bed. (Aren't you glad you stopped by?) I keep thinking about Eleanor's family! (Actually, I corresponded a bit with Eleanor and I think they are napping and eating at odd hours as the jet lag has caught them.)
Amazon.com can be talked into Free One Day Shipping, I'm only saying. One must be patient, however, with the customer service people even when one suspects that there may be language difficulties.
Whilst speaking of my friends in the internet to K, I usually say something like: my Fluid Pudding friend's daughter swallowed a diamond...or, I wonder how my English friend would like this teacup...or, it looks like my Australian friend had a wonderful Christmas and then K will say: which Australian friend? the knitter? the one with the boys? or the one you are meeting up with?
Last evening we had dinner with our IRL Australian friend and his family. He made two lasagnas! One with meat and one with veg and I had a piece of each and THEN we dug into a Harrod's Christmas Pudding (with brandy) that a friend from London had brought me. WELL.
Let me just say that it was FLAMMABLE. Flammable, dear friends. Probably, also, it was the first alcohol-ish thing that Youngest has ever had. It was very delicious but I think I'll ask for one sans brandy next time.
How music is meant to be heard.
The case, which has his name on it but which I, cleverly, photoshopped out.
The small print. (They are clever too.)
The Headphones...
The Headphones: In His Ear And Out Of Focus.
Not only can Middle now hear Music as It IS Meant To Be Heard but he is completely and totally deaf to everything around him - which I could worry about but will choose not to.
Maybe.
(For those asking about him damaging his hearing with these headphones: we spoke to the audiologist who fitted him for them and they are actually better for one's ears as high volume is not needed to hear the music well.)
I think K is going to boost the memory in my laptop today. We've just realized that it has less than an iPod.
chicken stew
When I was a kid and MFAOAunt and Uncle were Young Marrieds With A Little Girl, my family would have dinner with them on a fairly regular basis. In fact, we did lots of fun things with MFAOAunt and Uncle. Lots of things that often revolved around food - and my uncle did all the cooking. I can't remember my aunt cooking anything all those years and there are lots of family jokes about my mom, her sister and their mother being the queens of "broiling and boiling."
No matter. Over the years, my uncle became well known for many wonderful dishes, among them: his stuffing at Thanksgiving, an absolutely perfect Irish Soda Bread and Chicken Stew.
Chicken Stew evolved, over time, from one chicken, a package of peas and lots and lots of potatoes into plenty of chicken, carrots, onions, fresh herbs, a package of peas and as many potatoes as guests. (As Young Marrieds, with a limited budget, potatoes stretched the dish.)
Year after year we gathered for Chicken Stew.
Through deaths and births, joy and sorrow, in deep snow and warm weather, my now-extended family gathers for Chicken Stew at MFAOA and Uncle's home.
This year they are grandparents and are battling serious illness - but we gathered for Chicken Stew.
But there is a little more back-story.
You see, nearly every time we have Chicken Stew, and no matter what device my dear uncle employs to remember them, the peas are often forgotten on the kitchen counter and, inadvertently, left out of the stew.
We sit, we acknowledge the great meal - and then we tuck in...and my uncle suddenly remembers, or someone reminds him of the peas in the kitchen and we all have a good laugh.
This year was rough on them but MFAOAunt and Uncle decided to still have Chicken Stew night...on Christmas day no less. They felt that it would bolster their sagging spirits and said they could handle it if we all pitched in.
There was no question. Of course we'd pitch in. K offered to cook from my uncle's recipe. We promised to set the table and clear it. But they refused most of our offers. Much planning was done and they had my cousin and her husband on hand to be of assistance. But we wanted it and they wanted it to be as "normal" as possible and the birds began to conspire.
What to do? How to delight? We needed something...funny hats, costumes, a sight gag, SOMETHING.
And so, I decided on The Peas Joke.
I bought five cans of peas.
I gave each boy a can.
The plan: upon sitting at the table (which this year included K's mom!), after the signal, the boys would pull their cans of peas from under their chairs and put them on the table whilst saying something about forgetting them/helping my uncle out/needing more.
We made alternate plans in the event of a buffet but were pleased to see the table set and ready for our plot. We worried, just a little, that my uncle would actually remember the peas this year rendering our gag slightly less hilarious but were overjoyed (and could barely contain ourselves) when he forgot the peas again.
We waited for him to join us at the table.
We praised the beauty of the meal, the day, the company.
And then, just before we tasted, I gave the signal, five cans of peas were placed on the table and each of us had a line...
we brought these just in case...
I think you forgot something...
let me give you a hand with that...
isn't this missing...peas?
hey, are there PEAS in this?
It was priceless.
We laughed very hard.
And now, my dear uncle, is WEALTHY in peas.
No matter. Over the years, my uncle became well known for many wonderful dishes, among them: his stuffing at Thanksgiving, an absolutely perfect Irish Soda Bread and Chicken Stew.
Chicken Stew evolved, over time, from one chicken, a package of peas and lots and lots of potatoes into plenty of chicken, carrots, onions, fresh herbs, a package of peas and as many potatoes as guests. (As Young Marrieds, with a limited budget, potatoes stretched the dish.)
Year after year we gathered for Chicken Stew.
Through deaths and births, joy and sorrow, in deep snow and warm weather, my now-extended family gathers for Chicken Stew at MFAOA and Uncle's home.
This year they are grandparents and are battling serious illness - but we gathered for Chicken Stew.
But there is a little more back-story.
You see, nearly every time we have Chicken Stew, and no matter what device my dear uncle employs to remember them, the peas are often forgotten on the kitchen counter and, inadvertently, left out of the stew.
We sit, we acknowledge the great meal - and then we tuck in...and my uncle suddenly remembers, or someone reminds him of the peas in the kitchen and we all have a good laugh.
This year was rough on them but MFAOAunt and Uncle decided to still have Chicken Stew night...on Christmas day no less. They felt that it would bolster their sagging spirits and said they could handle it if we all pitched in.
There was no question. Of course we'd pitch in. K offered to cook from my uncle's recipe. We promised to set the table and clear it. But they refused most of our offers. Much planning was done and they had my cousin and her husband on hand to be of assistance. But we wanted it and they wanted it to be as "normal" as possible and the birds began to conspire.
What to do? How to delight? We needed something...funny hats, costumes, a sight gag, SOMETHING.
And so, I decided on The Peas Joke.
I bought five cans of peas.
I gave each boy a can.
The plan: upon sitting at the table (which this year included K's mom!), after the signal, the boys would pull their cans of peas from under their chairs and put them on the table whilst saying something about forgetting them/helping my uncle out/needing more.
We made alternate plans in the event of a buffet but were pleased to see the table set and ready for our plot. We worried, just a little, that my uncle would actually remember the peas this year rendering our gag slightly less hilarious but were overjoyed (and could barely contain ourselves) when he forgot the peas again.
We waited for him to join us at the table.
We praised the beauty of the meal, the day, the company.
And then, just before we tasted, I gave the signal, five cans of peas were placed on the table and each of us had a line...
we brought these just in case...
I think you forgot something...
let me give you a hand with that...
isn't this missing...peas?
hey, are there PEAS in this?
It was priceless.
We laughed very hard.
And now, my dear uncle, is WEALTHY in peas.
an evening at the theater
K made us some truly awe-inspiring Croque-Monsieurs. You know, there's nothing like some bechamel to bolster one up for a drive into town. Do you know what it's like in town right now?
CRAZY.
I wove in and out of bumper-to-bumper traffic like a crazy person as the curtain was at seven and we left my house at 5:45 AND SO DID EVERYONE ELSE.
My deft driving skills got us into town by 6:30 and then we sat in MORE traffic.
SOME might say my city driving is a little crazy but MOST people appreciate that I can get my car across town through all kinds of craziness...and I did last night.
But, worried about the time, with no parking lot lined up (and seeing lot after lot after lot full) I suggested (in a completely frantic, anxiety-inducing way) that the moms get out and walk the last few blocks while I parked the car - that we'd meet at the theater.
The streets were packed so full of people and cars that driving and walking were both difficult but soon after I threw two grandmothers from the vehicle, I found a garage with space and hopped out.
But where were the moms, I wondered.
I looked at the huge crowds and was a little worried about them...there they were, in one of the most crowded neighborhoods, teeming with people...on foot! Without me!
Should I run ahead to the theater? Were they behind me still walking?
OH my NERVES.
I walked slowly at first and then looked at the time...6:45! I ran and then spotted them at an intersection asking for directions!
I'm here! I shouted, happy to see them.
We hurried the last block and rushed into the theater so flustered that I gave the usher the prescription for my mammogram instead of my e-ticket. He was nice about it and showed us to our seats.
It was the perfect show for us. Indeed, the perfect show for any group of sisters, girlfriends, cousins. You should go!
We sat and laughed (and though it was sometimes poignant, did not cry, which was nice) and had a good time.
(The lady sitting behind me was one of those heavy emoters? She made audibly loud sighs and moans during the performance, and at one point laughed so hard she could not catch her breath.)
The drive home was easy and Grammy stayed the night...
Chores today.
xo
CRAZY.
I wove in and out of bumper-to-bumper traffic like a crazy person as the curtain was at seven and we left my house at 5:45 AND SO DID EVERYONE ELSE.
My deft driving skills got us into town by 6:30 and then we sat in MORE traffic.
SOME might say my city driving is a little crazy but MOST people appreciate that I can get my car across town through all kinds of craziness...and I did last night.
But, worried about the time, with no parking lot lined up (and seeing lot after lot after lot full) I suggested (in a completely frantic, anxiety-inducing way) that the moms get out and walk the last few blocks while I parked the car - that we'd meet at the theater.
The streets were packed so full of people and cars that driving and walking were both difficult but soon after I threw two grandmothers from the vehicle, I found a garage with space and hopped out.
But where were the moms, I wondered.
I looked at the huge crowds and was a little worried about them...there they were, in one of the most crowded neighborhoods, teeming with people...on foot! Without me!
Should I run ahead to the theater? Were they behind me still walking?
OH my NERVES.
I walked slowly at first and then looked at the time...6:45! I ran and then spotted them at an intersection asking for directions!
I'm here! I shouted, happy to see them.
We hurried the last block and rushed into the theater so flustered that I gave the usher the prescription for my mammogram instead of my e-ticket. He was nice about it and showed us to our seats.
It was the perfect show for us. Indeed, the perfect show for any group of sisters, girlfriends, cousins. You should go!
We sat and laughed (and though it was sometimes poignant, did not cry, which was nice) and had a good time.
(The lady sitting behind me was one of those heavy emoters? She made audibly loud sighs and moans during the performance, and at one point laughed so hard she could not catch her breath.)
The drive home was easy and Grammy stayed the night...
Chores today.
xo
Just as I finished my ham...
... my phone rang! My cell phone, which, I should mention, is never upon my body when I am in my home (do all of you walk around with your cell phone in your pocket when you are at home?), rang and I went and found it and who do you suppose was calling? Eleanor!
Yes, dear friends, Eleanor was "ringing me up" to discuss our plans to meet.
Steps away from my office, Eleanor and her family are planning their month-long visit. That she is brave (or influential) enough to travel with two teenagers is impressive to me as I am forever making compromises/bargains/bribes to get my boys to agree to accompany me to the supermarket no less to the other side of the earth. But they are here and I'm pleased to report that Eleanor is working hard to make plans to entertain these Australian teens and that I'm going to sit with the bird boys today and see if they will make some further suggestions as to how to entertain visitors in our fair city.
Eleanor reported that they had just returned from cupcaking (my term, which I will copyright) and that the gents had made plans to see a hockey game.
I spoke to K and he agreed (though we would have to excavate the boys rooms as they are completely buried in laundry and other flotsam) that I should offer an afternoon outside the city limits. Perhaps the Commentboxes would appreciate a change of scenery? (Eleanor, dear, think about it...might B like to shoot alien space invaders on the PS3? Perhaps just one or two of you would like to visit? Chili for dinner? No pressure though - you might be "busy.")
And now, whilst Eleanor ponders (ridiculous of me to offer "no pressure" isn't it? I mean, the entire internet is waiting NOW), I offer a smattering of holiday photos...
The ever-adorable, rapidly growing, fellow who is Youngest, who received a cellphone so complicated that (as seen in this photo) he uses it to reposition a satellite just beyond Mars. There is no question that Youngest's cellphone is on his body at every waking (and perhaps sleeping) moment.
I gave K a new pair of boots which, if such a thing can be said, are so attractive to me that I cannot stop staring at his beautifully shod feet. And they are waterproof.
The Mug Boss. Google it as it is difficult to explain. Suffice to say that Middle asked for virtually nothing in this season of giving and was thrilled to receive not one but two sets of small clips that manage wires on ones desk.
I do not have a picture (and wish I did) of Oldest and his dearest friend Z sitting on my couch on Christmas morning enjoying a book of extraordinary tree houses that I brought him from work. Though in their twenties they suddenly seemed 8 or 9 years old.
I cannot encourage the purchase of one of these more heartily. Part of the purchase is a donation to the most wonderful educational cause, but the rest of the purchase is pure fun. The Air Cannon/AirZooka is a fabulously funny weapon that gently punches victims with a puff of, um, well, AIR.
Please ignore K's shirts awaiting the iron and the antique television and dark lighting and observe two young men in Air Battle (which is/was just too damn funny).
Alas, they were each given as gifts (the guns, not the boys) and live, now, only as good memories.
It's all down hill now...we are making plans for movies and visits and, tonight, the theater with the Mums.
We'll have some Croque Monsieurs first, though. As you can see, I'm putting on weight.
Yes, dear friends, Eleanor was "ringing me up" to discuss our plans to meet.
Steps away from my office, Eleanor and her family are planning their month-long visit. That she is brave (or influential) enough to travel with two teenagers is impressive to me as I am forever making compromises/bargains/bribes to get my boys to agree to accompany me to the supermarket no less to the other side of the earth. But they are here and I'm pleased to report that Eleanor is working hard to make plans to entertain these Australian teens and that I'm going to sit with the bird boys today and see if they will make some further suggestions as to how to entertain visitors in our fair city.
Eleanor reported that they had just returned from cupcaking (my term, which I will copyright) and that the gents had made plans to see a hockey game.
I spoke to K and he agreed (though we would have to excavate the boys rooms as they are completely buried in laundry and other flotsam) that I should offer an afternoon outside the city limits. Perhaps the Commentboxes would appreciate a change of scenery? (Eleanor, dear, think about it...might B like to shoot alien space invaders on the PS3? Perhaps just one or two of you would like to visit? Chili for dinner? No pressure though - you might be "busy.")
And now, whilst Eleanor ponders (ridiculous of me to offer "no pressure" isn't it? I mean, the entire internet is waiting NOW), I offer a smattering of holiday photos...
The ever-adorable, rapidly growing, fellow who is Youngest, who received a cellphone so complicated that (as seen in this photo) he uses it to reposition a satellite just beyond Mars. There is no question that Youngest's cellphone is on his body at every waking (and perhaps sleeping) moment.
I gave K a new pair of boots which, if such a thing can be said, are so attractive to me that I cannot stop staring at his beautifully shod feet. And they are waterproof.
The Mug Boss. Google it as it is difficult to explain. Suffice to say that Middle asked for virtually nothing in this season of giving and was thrilled to receive not one but two sets of small clips that manage wires on ones desk.
I do not have a picture (and wish I did) of Oldest and his dearest friend Z sitting on my couch on Christmas morning enjoying a book of extraordinary tree houses that I brought him from work. Though in their twenties they suddenly seemed 8 or 9 years old.
I cannot encourage the purchase of one of these more heartily. Part of the purchase is a donation to the most wonderful educational cause, but the rest of the purchase is pure fun. The Air Cannon/AirZooka is a fabulously funny weapon that gently punches victims with a puff of, um, well, AIR.
Please ignore K's shirts awaiting the iron and the antique television and dark lighting and observe two young men in Air Battle (which is/was just too damn funny).
Alas, they were each given as gifts (the guns, not the boys) and live, now, only as good memories.
It's all down hill now...we are making plans for movies and visits and, tonight, the theater with the Mums.
We'll have some Croque Monsieurs first, though. As you can see, I'm putting on weight.
the day after
I'm still a little cranky, though it was a lovely Christmas.
My favorite moments:
I received wonderful presents...from Oldest (who earns part of his living driving for an elderly bespoke tailor), a collection of antique buttons hand chosen at a secret location he visited. I have plans to replace existing buttons with these over-sized mother of pearl beauties.
K bought me lots of great stuff but the lamps for our room and the new battery for my "good" watch make me very happy. Middle bought me one of those little window-smashing hammers for my car, which I wanted very badly! (He tells a fabulous story about walking all over the city, bundled in his black hoodie, asking for a hammer to smash car windows.)
My FAOA awarded my Uncle a Victoria Cross for his bravery and valor in the face of the enemy just after dinner yesterday while my boys stood as an honor guard in home-made uniforms. It was a small ceremony which she conducted from a chair and was funny and moving and touching all at once.
Visiting with my new cousin who is tiny and cute and shy. Christmas with a wee one is extra nice.
Today I am itching for ham. Yes, HAM. I'm off to find one and then to neaten up our bedroom, which served as Christmas Central for the past few weeks and must now be put back in order.
Tomorrow I am taking The Moms (K's and mine) to the theater!
it's Christmas Eve
I wasn't especially aggravated about the fact that my company is open today. I do realize that some of my co-workers celebrate Christmas today and understand how they might be annoyed. But those people won't be in, so it doesn't matter.
But I am here... and there are bagels and Mimosas in Conference Room B and I suspect we won't get much done, and the city was populated by people with a little spring in their step.
While riding the subway downtown I was sure I saw Eleanor and her family because, did I tell you? She is staying one block away from my desk! ONE BLOCK.
It wasn't them.
I was going up the steps from the subway, musing on Eleanor's trip and what it must have been like for them to arrive here last night. There's a lot of snow here right now (dirty in town but twinkling in my garden at home) and the city, while grubby and slushy, has an air of holiday expectedness. (I'm quite sure that is a word.) While I was musing, coming up from the train, my toe caught the very edge of a step and I started to fall. It was at precisely that moment that I saw a Giant on the step just below me and to my left. He put out his huge, warm hand, palm up, and with no effort at all, caught me and prevented my fall. It was a breath of a second. We may not have even lost our pace on the steps.
I whispered thank you.
He was silent. Huge and silent.
We came to the top of the steps and just as I was at his eye-level I remembered and said,
Merry Christmas.
His very big face smiled and he softly replied, To you too.
But I am here... and there are bagels and Mimosas in Conference Room B and I suspect we won't get much done, and the city was populated by people with a little spring in their step.
While riding the subway downtown I was sure I saw Eleanor and her family because, did I tell you? She is staying one block away from my desk! ONE BLOCK.
It wasn't them.
I was going up the steps from the subway, musing on Eleanor's trip and what it must have been like for them to arrive here last night. There's a lot of snow here right now (dirty in town but twinkling in my garden at home) and the city, while grubby and slushy, has an air of holiday expectedness. (I'm quite sure that is a word.) While I was musing, coming up from the train, my toe caught the very edge of a step and I started to fall. It was at precisely that moment that I saw a Giant on the step just below me and to my left. He put out his huge, warm hand, palm up, and with no effort at all, caught me and prevented my fall. It was a breath of a second. We may not have even lost our pace on the steps.
I whispered thank you.
He was silent. Huge and silent.
We came to the top of the steps and just as I was at his eye-level I remembered and said,
Merry Christmas.
His very big face smiled and he softly replied, To you too.
I'm just a little cranky
At my office party, the other night, a scantily clad co-worker came close to my face and whined that she did not feel well.
I'm afraid I wasn't very nice and asked her to take two steps away from me and implied that she might be contagious.
Now I have a scratchy throat and am tired. And she? Called in sick.
K took Youngest to a doctor's appointment last evening which meant I walked from the train, which I don't mind. At the end of the walk I was knee-deep in snow, which is still okay, BUT...I forgot my key and was locked out of the house. My cell phone was dead too. I was able to get a text to Middle to ask him to hurry home with the key but I still waited outside for nearly an hour while the "idiot key" was hanging in the kitchen.
That walk from the station was fine until I slipped on some ice, three quarters of the way home, and pulled a muscle in my back - just a little.
My favorite underwire camisoles (from The Gap) have a design flaw that practically propels the wire through the fabric and directly into my chest. I have hot glued them, sewn them and am about to clip the wire shorter in an attempt to save my flesh.
I think I'm losing my taste for SweeTarts.
I'm afraid I wasn't very nice and asked her to take two steps away from me and implied that she might be contagious.
Now I have a scratchy throat and am tired. And she? Called in sick.
K took Youngest to a doctor's appointment last evening which meant I walked from the train, which I don't mind. At the end of the walk I was knee-deep in snow, which is still okay, BUT...I forgot my key and was locked out of the house. My cell phone was dead too. I was able to get a text to Middle to ask him to hurry home with the key but I still waited outside for nearly an hour while the "idiot key" was hanging in the kitchen.
That walk from the station was fine until I slipped on some ice, three quarters of the way home, and pulled a muscle in my back - just a little.
My favorite underwire camisoles (from The Gap) have a design flaw that practically propels the wire through the fabric and directly into my chest. I have hot glued them, sewn them and am about to clip the wire shorter in an attempt to save my flesh.
I think I'm losing my taste for SweeTarts.
The Love Actually Winner
Thirty two comments...put through a random number generator -
which brings me to Jbhat. Comment number 29.
Anonymous said...
bb, I never enter blog giveaways. But thank you for doing this one. It IS sweet. But how do all of these people have your address? Maybe they have just a cropped version of it. : )
We didn't do a holiday party this year. But I would have worn what Cary Perk said she would wear. I thought those outfits sounded just about right.
jbhat
Jb has been a devoted commenter for a long, long time - and, if she will be kind enough to email me with her address, I'll send her a copy of Love Actually - arguably the best Christmas movie of recent times.
Thank you all - you are dear to me.
bb
Survivor: the Finale, and then some*
Mom took excellent notes for me last week, while I was at The Party, so I know that Shambo is now on the jury.
And now the finale is upon us. I wasn't able to give the show as much of my attention this time around but I still loved it. Did it go quickly? I think so. Are there still players I don't know? Yes.
Am I still intrigued? Yes.
Recaprecaprecaprecaprecap.
Pretty scenery.
Many people voted out.
Natalie, the nice girl, Jaison, the social conscience, Mick, winner of many challenges and Russell, The Most Powerful Player and Brett, who has come from behind and won two immunity challenges.
It's day 37. There's tree mail. A test of balance, speed and patience.
Jaison isn't feeling well.
Russell says they must get rid of Brett.
Natalie is doing laundry.
Jaison and Mick agree that Brett must go and they are worried about it.
Russell tells Natalie that she has to win so Brett can go or it will be her voted out next.
Natalie feels there is now way she can beat Brett.
They go to the challenge where they must race over obstacles, grab a bag of puzzle pieces, climb a steep platform and solve the puzzle.
Four former Foa Foa's vs. one last Galu.
Russell is flying through the course.
It doesn't seem that hard!
BRETT WINS.
I have to admit. I'm disappointed. I have no interest in Brett winning this season.
I don't care much about Mick either - but if Jaison or Natalie won, I'd be pleased...the thing is: though I don't like him, I believe Russell deserves to win. But Brett? It could be editing, but I don't care at all about Brett.
They return to camp.
Natalie knows she's "hangin by a thread."
Russell wants to keep Natalie because he feels he can beat her in votes at the end.
And who does Russell think should go? He weighs it out. He decides Mick should go and tells Jaison. Jaison trusts him. But he tells Mick that it should be Jaison. Mick believes him too.
Mick and Jaison both believe they have had a pact with Russell from the beginning.
Then, Russell and Natalie talk about who they will choose to go - and whomever Russell chooses will be the next one out.
At Tribal, the Jury is fresh faced and clean looking.
The team talk about how to decide the vote - vote out the strong? The weak?
Jaison goes.
Shame on me for thinking it would be Natalie - I forgot that Russell is running the show.
Brett is thrilled to be in the final four.
Natalie thanks the lord.
In the morning, Russell confronts Brett - does he think he can beat him?
Russell thinks the top three should be people who deserve it - he tells Brett and promises him they will be in the top three. He makes a pact. And shakes on it.
Brett brings tree mail...ah, time for the Fallen Comrade Salute.
Mom and I contemplate what we will do for the next 30 minutes as we have no desire to watch the sweeping camera shots of the cliffs and sea.
We realize: there were no family visits this season. There was never any coverage of food or the lack of discussed, everyone ate all the time without mentioning shortages of rice or trouble finding fish or fruit. Bathing suits magically appeared even though players worked and swam in underwear in the beginning of the season. No one got those infamous tear-jerking letters from home and there weren't any real water based challenges. Will there be some kind of strength/endurance challenge here at the end?
Time for the Final Immunity Challenge.
Balance and concentration is required as players must balance a statue on a pole - and the pole gets longer at intervals.
Personally, I don't think I could balance the statue on the first length of pole, no less add another section without toppling it.
New sections of pole must be added every two minutes.
Mick is out first.
Natalie is out second.
Russell vs. Brett.
Six feet of pole with a statue at the top.
The wind picks up.
Both men struggle and recover.
They must add another foot of pole.
Russell is shaking, Brett is wobbling.
Brett's falls off!
Russell wins! His first immunity! AMAZING.
Mick tell us what a nail-biter it was.
Will Russell take Brett to the end? Didn't he promise he would? Will that be his last lie?
Russell speaks highly of Brett.
Mick is very suspicious - he doesn't trust Russell...Natalie tries to re-assure him.
Russell goes to speak to Brett, tells him how much he admires him. He explains to Brett that he will set up a tie vote so that Brett and Mick can do a fire challenge.
His "head is spinning" - it's going to be tricky to pull off.
They go to Tribal.
Jeff talks to the players about who might go to the end.
Is Brett worried?
Brett challenges Russell to take him to the end.
Time to vote.
Brett, Mick, Brett, Brett.
Russell smiles, the Jury shake their heads.
Next? We'll sit through the Pleading With The Jury part of the episode.
The next morning Mick, Russell and Natalie have their celebratory final breakfast. Russell talks to Natalie about what she'll say to the jury. He warns her that they will say she rode his coat-tails and did nothing around camp.
Mick says he was a hard-working trust-worthy guy and took a different path to the end.
Russell threatens Natalie: "don't make me send you to the jury."
He's especially evil while Natalie cooks and Mick listens quietly.
They burn the shelter.
Russell is completely confident. He's brought "a couple of bums" with him. Sheesh. Now I'm not sure about him. But he HAS played SO well.
The Jury arrive at the final Tribal Council. Now the Jury must decide.
All three players have voted for every single member of the Jury.
Each player must state their case. The Jury then ask questions.
Then they'll vote. (And we would assume, go live, to learn who wins.)
Mick speaks first. He makes his nice-guy speech which the Jury does not seem to believe. Lots of head shaking.
Natalie talks about how hard the game was for her and thanks the Jury for helping her be there.
Russell tells the Jury that he made huge moves to get where he is. He talks about his manipulation and strategy.
"If one of these people has outwitted me, then give them the money."
"If one of these people has outplayed me, then give them the money, but I don't think that's the case, and may the best man win."
Jaison demands that the players tell us who they really are and then points out that each player has plenty of money.
Shambo criticises Mick and accuses him of being feckless, accuses Natalie of riding coat-tails, she'll be voting for Russell.
Brett butters Mick up.
Kelly sticks Natalie and wonders if Russell is the same IRL.
Monica congratulates them but saw no passion in Mick or Natalie.
Dave asks what they think their chances are of winning.
Laura wants to know what they learned about her.
John grills them each.
Eric doesn't see how Mick deserves to be there, attacks Russell, and tells Natalie that she has the most integrity and just might win...
TIME TO VOTE.
Jeff goes to LA. On foot.
And we are live...in Hollywood!
A tough season says Jeff.
Mick, Natalie and Russell, and a jury of their peers.
Jeff reads:
Natalie
Russell
Natalie
Russell
Natalie
Natalie
(damn)
Natalie
HOLY COW.
HOLYCOWHOLYCOW.
Mom: It's a Christmas miracle!
*I will have the Christmas Outfit/Love Actually dvd contest winner tomorrow! I think!
And now the finale is upon us. I wasn't able to give the show as much of my attention this time around but I still loved it. Did it go quickly? I think so. Are there still players I don't know? Yes.
Am I still intrigued? Yes.
Recaprecaprecaprecaprecap.
Pretty scenery.
Many people voted out.
Natalie, the nice girl, Jaison, the social conscience, Mick, winner of many challenges and Russell, The Most Powerful Player and Brett, who has come from behind and won two immunity challenges.
It's day 37. There's tree mail. A test of balance, speed and patience.
Jaison isn't feeling well.
Russell says they must get rid of Brett.
Natalie is doing laundry.
Jaison and Mick agree that Brett must go and they are worried about it.
Russell tells Natalie that she has to win so Brett can go or it will be her voted out next.
Natalie feels there is now way she can beat Brett.
They go to the challenge where they must race over obstacles, grab a bag of puzzle pieces, climb a steep platform and solve the puzzle.
Four former Foa Foa's vs. one last Galu.
Russell is flying through the course.
It doesn't seem that hard!
BRETT WINS.
I have to admit. I'm disappointed. I have no interest in Brett winning this season.
I don't care much about Mick either - but if Jaison or Natalie won, I'd be pleased...the thing is: though I don't like him, I believe Russell deserves to win. But Brett? It could be editing, but I don't care at all about Brett.
They return to camp.
Natalie knows she's "hangin by a thread."
Russell wants to keep Natalie because he feels he can beat her in votes at the end.
And who does Russell think should go? He weighs it out. He decides Mick should go and tells Jaison. Jaison trusts him. But he tells Mick that it should be Jaison. Mick believes him too.
Mick and Jaison both believe they have had a pact with Russell from the beginning.
Then, Russell and Natalie talk about who they will choose to go - and whomever Russell chooses will be the next one out.
At Tribal, the Jury is fresh faced and clean looking.
The team talk about how to decide the vote - vote out the strong? The weak?
Jaison goes.
Shame on me for thinking it would be Natalie - I forgot that Russell is running the show.
Brett is thrilled to be in the final four.
Natalie thanks the lord.
In the morning, Russell confronts Brett - does he think he can beat him?
Russell thinks the top three should be people who deserve it - he tells Brett and promises him they will be in the top three. He makes a pact. And shakes on it.
Brett brings tree mail...ah, time for the Fallen Comrade Salute.
Mom and I contemplate what we will do for the next 30 minutes as we have no desire to watch the sweeping camera shots of the cliffs and sea.
We realize: there were no family visits this season. There was never any coverage of food or the lack of discussed, everyone ate all the time without mentioning shortages of rice or trouble finding fish or fruit. Bathing suits magically appeared even though players worked and swam in underwear in the beginning of the season. No one got those infamous tear-jerking letters from home and there weren't any real water based challenges. Will there be some kind of strength/endurance challenge here at the end?
Time for the Final Immunity Challenge.
Balance and concentration is required as players must balance a statue on a pole - and the pole gets longer at intervals.
Personally, I don't think I could balance the statue on the first length of pole, no less add another section without toppling it.
New sections of pole must be added every two minutes.
Mick is out first.
Natalie is out second.
Russell vs. Brett.
Six feet of pole with a statue at the top.
The wind picks up.
Both men struggle and recover.
They must add another foot of pole.
Russell is shaking, Brett is wobbling.
Brett's falls off!
Russell wins! His first immunity! AMAZING.
Mick tell us what a nail-biter it was.
Will Russell take Brett to the end? Didn't he promise he would? Will that be his last lie?
Russell speaks highly of Brett.
Mick is very suspicious - he doesn't trust Russell...Natalie tries to re-assure him.
Russell goes to speak to Brett, tells him how much he admires him. He explains to Brett that he will set up a tie vote so that Brett and Mick can do a fire challenge.
His "head is spinning" - it's going to be tricky to pull off.
They go to Tribal.
Jeff talks to the players about who might go to the end.
Is Brett worried?
Brett challenges Russell to take him to the end.
Time to vote.
Brett, Mick, Brett, Brett.
Russell smiles, the Jury shake their heads.
Next? We'll sit through the Pleading With The Jury part of the episode.
The next morning Mick, Russell and Natalie have their celebratory final breakfast. Russell talks to Natalie about what she'll say to the jury. He warns her that they will say she rode his coat-tails and did nothing around camp.
Mick says he was a hard-working trust-worthy guy and took a different path to the end.
Russell threatens Natalie: "don't make me send you to the jury."
He's especially evil while Natalie cooks and Mick listens quietly.
They burn the shelter.
Russell is completely confident. He's brought "a couple of bums" with him. Sheesh. Now I'm not sure about him. But he HAS played SO well.
The Jury arrive at the final Tribal Council. Now the Jury must decide.
All three players have voted for every single member of the Jury.
Each player must state their case. The Jury then ask questions.
Then they'll vote. (And we would assume, go live, to learn who wins.)
Mick speaks first. He makes his nice-guy speech which the Jury does not seem to believe. Lots of head shaking.
Natalie talks about how hard the game was for her and thanks the Jury for helping her be there.
Russell tells the Jury that he made huge moves to get where he is. He talks about his manipulation and strategy.
"If one of these people has outwitted me, then give them the money."
"If one of these people has outplayed me, then give them the money, but I don't think that's the case, and may the best man win."
Jaison demands that the players tell us who they really are and then points out that each player has plenty of money.
Shambo criticises Mick and accuses him of being feckless, accuses Natalie of riding coat-tails, she'll be voting for Russell.
Brett butters Mick up.
Kelly sticks Natalie and wonders if Russell is the same IRL.
Monica congratulates them but saw no passion in Mick or Natalie.
Dave asks what they think their chances are of winning.
Laura wants to know what they learned about her.
John grills them each.
Eric doesn't see how Mick deserves to be there, attacks Russell, and tells Natalie that she has the most integrity and just might win...
TIME TO VOTE.
Jeff goes to LA. On foot.
And we are live...in Hollywood!
A tough season says Jeff.
Mick, Natalie and Russell, and a jury of their peers.
Jeff reads:
Natalie
Russell
Natalie
Russell
Natalie
Natalie
(damn)
Natalie
HOLY COW.
HOLYCOWHOLYCOW.
Mom: It's a Christmas miracle!
*I will have the Christmas Outfit/Love Actually dvd contest winner tomorrow! I think!
the sweetest giveaway
Someone did something very nice for me last week.
Last week, I said: Why, though, have I not found Love Actually on television yet this season?
I ASK YOU and, miraculously, not one but TWO dvd's of the movie showed up in my mailbox.
Isn't the internet a lovely place?
But, no one needs TWO copies of the dvd of Love Actually, do they?
No.
So.
I will send a dvd to one devoted reader.
Tell me, dear readers...tell me what you are wearing to your Christmas celebration!
I will put the comments through a random number generator (which I will find with google, right?) and choose and announce, and even link to, the fortunate winner.
Ready?
Set?
Go!
Last week, I said: Why, though, have I not found Love Actually on television yet this season?
I ASK YOU and, miraculously, not one but TWO dvd's of the movie showed up in my mailbox.
Isn't the internet a lovely place?
But, no one needs TWO copies of the dvd of Love Actually, do they?
No.
So.
I will send a dvd to one devoted reader.
Tell me, dear readers...tell me what you are wearing to your Christmas celebration!
I will put the comments through a random number generator (which I will find with google, right?) and choose and announce, and even link to, the fortunate winner.
Ready?
Set?
Go!
The Party
All day long, yesterday at my office, the air hummed with excitement.
Last night was The Holiday Party.
Lots of people were dressed up, some people changed just before the party, but wherever I went I saw and felt the anticipation of a fun night out.
Party shoes, waiting for the party.
It was a long day and my co-worker K had a rough time doing some contract work but, finally, she and I and C (another friend of ours at work) hopped in a cab and went up to the venue.
Have I described the venue?
It is/was the commercial catering kitchen used by one of the biggest restaurant owners in the city and it was the perfect place for our party...
I know it doesn't seem terribly glamorous but think about it: when you have people over, when you have a party, where do people congregate? The kitchen. And this kitchen? Staffed with world-class chefs? Served by over a dozen wait-staff? With three bars? Well, it was fabulous.
The lights were turned down, music was turned up, and food was served.
Bars were stocked!
And there I was!
Smiling! In pictures!
Talking? About something?
ANYWAY!
It was all wonderful...
and delicious
and fun.
At about eight o'clock one of the VP's came over and asked me if I wanted to meet
Maira Kalman.
Maira Kalman.
I knew that Ms. Kalman had been invited but was not sure she would attend. I dreamed of meeting her, I thought, carefully, about what I would say if I was lucky enough to meet her. Do you remember how much I love Maira Kalman?
Off we went, to meet my idol.
I did my best not to gush or seem stalker-like - and I think I did okay. I told her how much I like her work and we chatted a little bit before I stepped away and let her enjoy the party (though I would have loved to have spent more time with her).
Later in the evening, I passed by her again and she waved me over to meet her daughter who was a sous chef at The Kitchen. I told her how much I wished one of my boys would go to culinary school (I've nagged them for years!) and how, obviously, the Kalmans are the perfect family.
We had a laugh as I repeated my speech of adoration, sighing dramatically for Miss Kalman whilst asking Maira if I did it as well the second time.
More food, more drinks and more laughs later, K and I took our leave.
Tired and happy, I smiled all the way home.
Our party was a great success - and co-worker K and I basked in the glory of it all day today while people stopped us in the hall to tell us how wonderful it was.
That I met someone I admire so much at this great party was just icing.
Icing on my Christmas cake.
Last night was The Holiday Party.
Lots of people were dressed up, some people changed just before the party, but wherever I went I saw and felt the anticipation of a fun night out.
Party shoes, waiting for the party.
It was a long day and my co-worker K had a rough time doing some contract work but, finally, she and I and C (another friend of ours at work) hopped in a cab and went up to the venue.
Have I described the venue?
It is/was the commercial catering kitchen used by one of the biggest restaurant owners in the city and it was the perfect place for our party...
I know it doesn't seem terribly glamorous but think about it: when you have people over, when you have a party, where do people congregate? The kitchen. And this kitchen? Staffed with world-class chefs? Served by over a dozen wait-staff? With three bars? Well, it was fabulous.
The lights were turned down, music was turned up, and food was served.
Bars were stocked!
And there I was!
Smiling! In pictures!
Talking? About something?
ANYWAY!
It was all wonderful...
and delicious
and fun.
At about eight o'clock one of the VP's came over and asked me if I wanted to meet
Maira Kalman.
Maira Kalman.
I knew that Ms. Kalman had been invited but was not sure she would attend. I dreamed of meeting her, I thought, carefully, about what I would say if I was lucky enough to meet her. Do you remember how much I love Maira Kalman?
Off we went, to meet my idol.
I did my best not to gush or seem stalker-like - and I think I did okay. I told her how much I like her work and we chatted a little bit before I stepped away and let her enjoy the party (though I would have loved to have spent more time with her).
Later in the evening, I passed by her again and she waved me over to meet her daughter who was a sous chef at The Kitchen. I told her how much I wished one of my boys would go to culinary school (I've nagged them for years!) and how, obviously, the Kalmans are the perfect family.
We had a laugh as I repeated my speech of adoration, sighing dramatically for Miss Kalman whilst asking Maira if I did it as well the second time.
More food, more drinks and more laughs later, K and I took our leave.
Tired and happy, I smiled all the way home.
Our party was a great success - and co-worker K and I basked in the glory of it all day today while people stopped us in the hall to tell us how wonderful it was.
That I met someone I admire so much at this great party was just icing.
Icing on my Christmas cake.
a dollar for her cup
I'm one of those people who is so torn when I see folks asking for money on the street.
I'd like to be like my friend, J, who does not walk past any of those people without fishing a dollar from her bag.
I'm always wondering...will they use the money for drugs? are they really poor? homeless?
Might they be unwell?
Many years ago, K and I brought a blanket and warm food to a woman who had slept in our building doorway for a few nights. It was Christmas and we wanted to do something. Our good natured intentions were a bit squished when she started shouting at us - demanding a cigar.
These days, as I walk to work, I sometimes pass someone begging. Because it's the holidays (which is a poor excuse) I am soft hearted and have been digging into my bag for a dollar.
Yesterday, I saw a young man stopping people to ask for money. He was about two blocks away and it looked like he was, mostly, being ignored. He was ragged looking and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I decided, quickly, to find a dollar and not give him the chance to speak to me. I figured that if I handed him the money before he could ask for it I might spare him a moment of dignity. I got the bill, turned up my iPod, and walked confidently - very nearly past him and, at the last moment, just as he opened his mouth to speak, I pressed the dollar into his hand.
It would have been so much smoother if I hadn't had to choke back a sob.
I don't know what in that moment touched me so.
I didn't look back to see him again. I ducked into a doorway and tried not to cry.
I got an email yesterday.
I sent Julia a dollar.
Sure, it could be a scam...and the fellow in the street yesterday might have used my dollar for booze...but, right about now, I choose to believe he didn't.
And Julia? Assures me that she is not a Nigerian Princess.
Go and give a buck to someone. It's Christmas.
I'd like to be like my friend, J, who does not walk past any of those people without fishing a dollar from her bag.
I'm always wondering...will they use the money for drugs? are they really poor? homeless?
Might they be unwell?
Many years ago, K and I brought a blanket and warm food to a woman who had slept in our building doorway for a few nights. It was Christmas and we wanted to do something. Our good natured intentions were a bit squished when she started shouting at us - demanding a cigar.
These days, as I walk to work, I sometimes pass someone begging. Because it's the holidays (which is a poor excuse) I am soft hearted and have been digging into my bag for a dollar.
Yesterday, I saw a young man stopping people to ask for money. He was about two blocks away and it looked like he was, mostly, being ignored. He was ragged looking and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I decided, quickly, to find a dollar and not give him the chance to speak to me. I figured that if I handed him the money before he could ask for it I might spare him a moment of dignity. I got the bill, turned up my iPod, and walked confidently - very nearly past him and, at the last moment, just as he opened his mouth to speak, I pressed the dollar into his hand.
It would have been so much smoother if I hadn't had to choke back a sob.
I don't know what in that moment touched me so.
I didn't look back to see him again. I ducked into a doorway and tried not to cry.
I got an email yesterday.
I sent Julia a dollar.
Sure, it could be a scam...and the fellow in the street yesterday might have used my dollar for booze...but, right about now, I choose to believe he didn't.
And Julia? Assures me that she is not a Nigerian Princess.
Go and give a buck to someone. It's Christmas.
courtesy of Dr. E.
The cast:
now signed by many friends.
Another angle. It's black!
The controller...
game playing has not been interrupted.
Dr. E. mentioned that it was the second 5th Metacarpal he had cast that afternoon. The other hand belonged to a homemaker. Youngest and I suggested that she might want to have her cast molded around a cup of coffee, or a vacuum handle, or a wooden spoon.
We're a couple of cards, me and Youngest.
now signed by many friends.
Another angle. It's black!
The controller...
game playing has not been interrupted.
Dr. E. mentioned that it was the second 5th Metacarpal he had cast that afternoon. The other hand belonged to a homemaker. Youngest and I suggested that she might want to have her cast molded around a cup of coffee, or a vacuum handle, or a wooden spoon.
We're a couple of cards, me and Youngest.
as I live and breathe
I brought Youngest to the orthopedic surgeon today.
His hand had been splinted in the ER and we were told to see the doctor after the swelling went down.
I like this guy, the OS.
I had gone to him about my finger (knowing that, if I went, the finger would be fine - whereAS, if I didn't go, it would be broken and painful...you KNOW how that goes) and liked him very much. His partner had put a cast on Middle's hand when HE broke it. (How long ago was THAT? Before I was blogging? WAS there anyTHING before I was blogging?)
So, the OS did a new x-ray and, sure enough, Youngest's hand was still broken.
No surprises there...as soon as he took the splint off and I saw the swelling and bruise, I knew.
Doctor: (in a gentle, soft voice) I'm going to put a cast on that hand.
bb: (feeling a little pleased as she likes broken bones to be protected as they heal) thank you, I think that's a good idea.
Doctor: (to Youngest) Do you have any questions for me?
Youngest: I do. Two questions. Can I have any color cast I want?
Doctor: You can have pink, red, green, blue, white or black...
Youngest: I'd like black, please.
And, my second question is: can you mold the cast around something?
Doctor: Uh, yes. Yes, I could...if you brought something with you that you'd like me to mold it around.
Youngest: I did, actually.
And that, my friends, is how Youngest went home with a black cast fitted perfectly around a PS3 controller.
His hand had been splinted in the ER and we were told to see the doctor after the swelling went down.
I like this guy, the OS.
I had gone to him about my finger (knowing that, if I went, the finger would be fine - whereAS, if I didn't go, it would be broken and painful...you KNOW how that goes) and liked him very much. His partner had put a cast on Middle's hand when HE broke it. (How long ago was THAT? Before I was blogging? WAS there anyTHING before I was blogging?)
So, the OS did a new x-ray and, sure enough, Youngest's hand was still broken.
No surprises there...as soon as he took the splint off and I saw the swelling and bruise, I knew.
Doctor: (in a gentle, soft voice) I'm going to put a cast on that hand.
bb: (feeling a little pleased as she likes broken bones to be protected as they heal) thank you, I think that's a good idea.
Doctor: (to Youngest) Do you have any questions for me?
Youngest: I do. Two questions. Can I have any color cast I want?
Doctor: You can have pink, red, green, blue, white or black...
Youngest: I'd like black, please.
And, my second question is: can you mold the cast around something?
Doctor: Uh, yes. Yes, I could...if you brought something with you that you'd like me to mold it around.
Youngest: I did, actually.
And that, my friends, is how Youngest went home with a black cast fitted perfectly around a PS3 controller.
dateline: Tuvalu
The Scene: bb is driving Middle home from the train station when a craving overtakes her.
It is 8:18pm.
She pulls the Jeep into the Tuvalu Convenience Store and enters.
She scans the shelves, desperately searching...
bb: You don't have any SweeTarts?
SweeTarts, do you know what I'm talking about?
They're kind of sour and come in a roll, like this....
Kind Indian Gentleman: Oh! Rolo! Yes, we have Rolo! Very good.
bb: No, I mean Sweet Tarts - they're sour and come in colors?
KIG: Skittles. We have the Skittles.
bb: Skittles are good, yes...I like Skittles too, but that's not what I mean.
KIG: Sour Patch Kids? We have the Sour Patch Kids.
bb: (becoming exasperated) Yeah, those are sour, and that's cool and all, but THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. SWEET TARTS?! DO YOU HAVE ANY SWEETARTS? (Muttering under her breath) Oh good lord, this isn't going to happen.
KIG: Red Hots?
bb: No. Thanks. You should get them again...SWEETARTS, okay?
KIG: Okay. Sure, sure.
bb returns to her car where Middle is waiting.
bb: What am I going to do now?
Middle: You've got a real problem here.
It is 8:18pm.
She pulls the Jeep into the Tuvalu Convenience Store and enters.
She scans the shelves, desperately searching...
bb: You don't have any SweeTarts?
SweeTarts, do you know what I'm talking about?
They're kind of sour and come in a roll, like this....
Kind Indian Gentleman: Oh! Rolo! Yes, we have Rolo! Very good.
bb: No, I mean Sweet Tarts - they're sour and come in colors?
KIG: Skittles. We have the Skittles.
bb: Skittles are good, yes...I like Skittles too, but that's not what I mean.
KIG: Sour Patch Kids? We have the Sour Patch Kids.
bb: (becoming exasperated) Yeah, those are sour, and that's cool and all, but THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. SWEET TARTS?! DO YOU HAVE ANY SWEETARTS? (Muttering under her breath) Oh good lord, this isn't going to happen.
KIG: Red Hots?
bb: No. Thanks. You should get them again...SWEETARTS, okay?
KIG: Okay. Sure, sure.
bb returns to her car where Middle is waiting.
bb: What am I going to do now?
Middle: You've got a real problem here.
the good, the bad and the ugly
The Good
My Christmas shopping is done. (Well...maybe just one more thing, but it's across the street from my office so it barely counts, right?)
I got a beautiful scarf and gloves for client of K's at the sample sale. We never know what to buy this woman who is responsible for K's Spring Project - she's a tiny skinny thing and we've taken her to wonderful restaurants (she doesn't eat) and given her spa certificates (tough on the budget) and sent her flowers. Last year he sent her a Tiffany pen but this year I was stumped...until the sample sale! The scarf is very finely woven gold silk and the gloves are long and black leather with delicate gold chains at the wrist.
This Root Touch Up stuff? Is great!
The Bad
My very dear, sweet pal Poppy's de-luxe apartment in the sky has been badly damaged during a fatal fire in the building. While I am thankful that no one was in the apartment, and grateful that Poppy is dealing with it all with her usual grace, I am sad about it.
My Youngest has broken his hand. He has a lot going on in his life, my Youngest, and we are all trying hard to comfort him. He is wearing a very uncomfortable splint for now and will see the Hand Guy next week. I'm hoping they put a cast on it.
The Ugly
I've moved furniture and K has brought up the decorations. The tree is STILL on the front porch and we have not decorated and it's POURING rain.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting watching House Hunters International.
I love me some House Hunters International. I'm picturing us, today in Spain, choosing between three intriguing homes.
Why, though, have I not found Love Actually on television yet this season?
I ASK YOU.
My Christmas shopping is done. (Well...maybe just one more thing, but it's across the street from my office so it barely counts, right?)
I got a beautiful scarf and gloves for client of K's at the sample sale. We never know what to buy this woman who is responsible for K's Spring Project - she's a tiny skinny thing and we've taken her to wonderful restaurants (she doesn't eat) and given her spa certificates (tough on the budget) and sent her flowers. Last year he sent her a Tiffany pen but this year I was stumped...until the sample sale! The scarf is very finely woven gold silk and the gloves are long and black leather with delicate gold chains at the wrist.
This Root Touch Up stuff? Is great!
The Bad
My very dear, sweet pal Poppy's de-luxe apartment in the sky has been badly damaged during a fatal fire in the building. While I am thankful that no one was in the apartment, and grateful that Poppy is dealing with it all with her usual grace, I am sad about it.
My Youngest has broken his hand. He has a lot going on in his life, my Youngest, and we are all trying hard to comfort him. He is wearing a very uncomfortable splint for now and will see the Hand Guy next week. I'm hoping they put a cast on it.
The Ugly
I've moved furniture and K has brought up the decorations. The tree is STILL on the front porch and we have not decorated and it's POURING rain.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting watching House Hunters International.
I love me some House Hunters International. I'm picturing us, today in Spain, choosing between three intriguing homes.
Why, though, have I not found Love Actually on television yet this season?
I ASK YOU.
his first paycheck
Middle is as passionate about music as he is about film and photos.
Last week he went to the audiologist and had molds made of the inside of his ears.(I KNOW, eew.) Actually, he had to have the wax removed from one of his ears first, for perfect impressions. (I KNOW, EEEW.) My mom drove him over to the ENT and they removed the wax and then the audiologist, apparently, poured warm liquid - I don't know, silicon? into his ears. He left with a set of baby blue blobs of rubbery stuff that fit perfectly inside his ear holes.
Then he opened a bank account and filled out forms and sent his little yucky ear molds to these guys. And these guys (seen above) are making him the Ultimate Ear headphones.
As a drummer, I can see that he'd like to protect his hearing.
I just kind of wish we could all get fitted for Ultimate Ears so we don't have to listen to HIM drumming.
Last week he went to the audiologist and had molds made of the inside of his ears.(I KNOW, eew.) Actually, he had to have the wax removed from one of his ears first, for perfect impressions. (I KNOW, EEEW.) My mom drove him over to the ENT and they removed the wax and then the audiologist, apparently, poured warm liquid - I don't know, silicon? into his ears. He left with a set of baby blue blobs of rubbery stuff that fit perfectly inside his ear holes.
Then he opened a bank account and filled out forms and sent his little yucky ear molds to these guys. And these guys (seen above) are making him the Ultimate Ear headphones.
As a drummer, I can see that he'd like to protect his hearing.
I just kind of wish we could all get fitted for Ultimate Ears so we don't have to listen to HIM drumming.
Survivor
How many more episodes are there?
Shouldn't this be wrapping up?
And, why don't I have any SweeTarts?
Russell is in total control of the game.
Shambo is a psychic.
Jaison is worried - he doesn't want to piss Shambo off.
John went home.
There are only eight left and next week I will be at my holiday party!
After Tribal, Russell does damage control with Shambo.
He lies as he's lied for the whole game (his words).
It's time for the commercials for new cars as Christmas presents! Is ANYONE really giving cars as Christmas gifts? I can't imagine.
The next morning, on the beach, Jaison is relaxing on the beach with some guy and Monica or Laura (don't quote me). Jaison says that he let Russell be the bulldog of the team while he sat back and manipulated. He talks about who the jury might like. They talk, here at day 36, about sending Russell home. Jaison tells them that Russell is wealthy.
Time for a challenge...but for immunity, not reward.
The players must bowl with random opponents. Two shots and the winners move to the next round.
Natalie vs Shambo - Natalie throws a gutterball. Shambo hits nine. Natalie hits four.
Brett vs Russell - Brett throws a gutterball. Russell hits four. Brett gutters again.
Jaison vs Monica - Jaison hits two. Monica throws into the gutter. Jaison hits four more and wins.
Mick vs Dave - Mick hits three, Dave throws a strike. Mick is out.
Round Two!
Shambo vs Russell - Shambo hits five, Russell hits four. Shambo hits four but Russell is out with four.
Jaison vs Dave - Jaison hits none, Dave too...Jaison hits seven, Dave? The gutter.
Finally it's Jaison vs Shambo.
Shambo throws into the gutter and Jaison hits NONE.
Shambo is in the gutter again and Jaison needs only one pin for immunity.
Can he do it?
YEP.
Jaison wins again.
Shambo tells us that Dave is going HOME.
They return to camp and Dave is sure he's going home. Monica tells him to stay calm. Natalie is busy drying her panties on a tree. Nice, huh?
Monica talks to Russell about who's going. Russell says Dave but she argues against it. She argues that Shambo should go, that she's going to be a favorite with the jury. Anything could happen she tells him. Sure enough, Russell thinks it may be a good idea to keep Dave, and he goes to speak with him. They agree that they can get Brett, Monica and Natalie to vote Shambo. We wouldn't mind seeing Dave stay - and it sounds like it could work.
(I'm not terribly fond of Shambo so this works for me.)
They go to tribal where there's a good sized jury.
Jeff talks to Jaison about why people are voted out this late in the game.
This season, the jury is terribly emotive, don't you think? Someone needs to tell them to calm down.
Dave explains that the team may be better off keeping him and they vote.
Who is Mick? I don't know a thing about him!
Will Shambo be the only person who votes for Dave?
Jeff tallies the votes.
It looks like Dave...oh NO.
It is DAVE. Damn.
There's going to be no living with Shambo now.
The next morning Russell (who seems to be THE series narrator) tells us that Brett needs to go next because he's too nice. He tells Mick about this new plan and Mick listens but worries Russell because he's nervous.
No time for that - there's another immunity challenge.
Players race out to the water for a bag to be launched off a seesaw, on land, into a basket.
Brett and Mick are in the lead.
Brett wins.
Jaison thinks Brett's new energy could be a problem....
The team return to camp and celebrate Brett's victory. Monica is aggravated. Russell says Monica is going.
Brett, Mick and Monica have a chat. They discuss voting out Russell. Mick is feeling motivated to making a blindside. He approaches Jaison. Monica talks to Russell. She tells Russell that he's making a mistake and that she knows he has millions of dollars and that she could make or break him. He goes from teammate to teammate to find out who told Monica that he has money. But now Russell is mad - who told? The whole team is on edge. A decision must be made. Russell needs to send Monica home! He says he'll play the idol.
They go to Tribal.
The jury enter.
Russell puts the Idol around his neck.
But is he using it?
Monica challenges Russell and this thrills her. But Russell isn't concerned. The rest of the team seem a little unsettled though.
Did Monica's scrambling pay off? Who's getting the axe?
Russell does not play the Idol.
The votes? Tied - Russell and Monica...but it's Monica who goes.
Six left and, as Jeff says: more scrambling to come.
Click over to BeautyHacks to read my post about the worst gifts for Christmas!
Shouldn't this be wrapping up?
And, why don't I have any SweeTarts?
Russell is in total control of the game.
Shambo is a psychic.
Jaison is worried - he doesn't want to piss Shambo off.
John went home.
There are only eight left and next week I will be at my holiday party!
After Tribal, Russell does damage control with Shambo.
He lies as he's lied for the whole game (his words).
It's time for the commercials for new cars as Christmas presents! Is ANYONE really giving cars as Christmas gifts? I can't imagine.
The next morning, on the beach, Jaison is relaxing on the beach with some guy and Monica or Laura (don't quote me). Jaison says that he let Russell be the bulldog of the team while he sat back and manipulated. He talks about who the jury might like. They talk, here at day 36, about sending Russell home. Jaison tells them that Russell is wealthy.
Time for a challenge...but for immunity, not reward.
The players must bowl with random opponents. Two shots and the winners move to the next round.
Natalie vs Shambo - Natalie throws a gutterball. Shambo hits nine. Natalie hits four.
Brett vs Russell - Brett throws a gutterball. Russell hits four. Brett gutters again.
Jaison vs Monica - Jaison hits two. Monica throws into the gutter. Jaison hits four more and wins.
Mick vs Dave - Mick hits three, Dave throws a strike. Mick is out.
Round Two!
Shambo vs Russell - Shambo hits five, Russell hits four. Shambo hits four but Russell is out with four.
Jaison vs Dave - Jaison hits none, Dave too...Jaison hits seven, Dave? The gutter.
Finally it's Jaison vs Shambo.
Shambo throws into the gutter and Jaison hits NONE.
Shambo is in the gutter again and Jaison needs only one pin for immunity.
Can he do it?
YEP.
Jaison wins again.
Shambo tells us that Dave is going HOME.
They return to camp and Dave is sure he's going home. Monica tells him to stay calm. Natalie is busy drying her panties on a tree. Nice, huh?
Monica talks to Russell about who's going. Russell says Dave but she argues against it. She argues that Shambo should go, that she's going to be a favorite with the jury. Anything could happen she tells him. Sure enough, Russell thinks it may be a good idea to keep Dave, and he goes to speak with him. They agree that they can get Brett, Monica and Natalie to vote Shambo. We wouldn't mind seeing Dave stay - and it sounds like it could work.
(I'm not terribly fond of Shambo so this works for me.)
They go to tribal where there's a good sized jury.
Jeff talks to Jaison about why people are voted out this late in the game.
This season, the jury is terribly emotive, don't you think? Someone needs to tell them to calm down.
Dave explains that the team may be better off keeping him and they vote.
Who is Mick? I don't know a thing about him!
Will Shambo be the only person who votes for Dave?
Jeff tallies the votes.
It looks like Dave...oh NO.
It is DAVE. Damn.
There's going to be no living with Shambo now.
The next morning Russell (who seems to be THE series narrator) tells us that Brett needs to go next because he's too nice. He tells Mick about this new plan and Mick listens but worries Russell because he's nervous.
No time for that - there's another immunity challenge.
Players race out to the water for a bag to be launched off a seesaw, on land, into a basket.
Brett and Mick are in the lead.
Brett wins.
Jaison thinks Brett's new energy could be a problem....
The team return to camp and celebrate Brett's victory. Monica is aggravated. Russell says Monica is going.
Brett, Mick and Monica have a chat. They discuss voting out Russell. Mick is feeling motivated to making a blindside. He approaches Jaison. Monica talks to Russell. She tells Russell that he's making a mistake and that she knows he has millions of dollars and that she could make or break him. He goes from teammate to teammate to find out who told Monica that he has money. But now Russell is mad - who told? The whole team is on edge. A decision must be made. Russell needs to send Monica home! He says he'll play the idol.
They go to Tribal.
The jury enter.
Russell puts the Idol around his neck.
But is he using it?
Monica challenges Russell and this thrills her. But Russell isn't concerned. The rest of the team seem a little unsettled though.
Did Monica's scrambling pay off? Who's getting the axe?
Russell does not play the Idol.
The votes? Tied - Russell and Monica...but it's Monica who goes.
Six left and, as Jeff says: more scrambling to come.
Click over to BeautyHacks to read my post about the worst gifts for Christmas!
a short story about the sample sale - part deux
Well.
Today, my mom came into town to attend the sample sale of which I wrote earlier.
We had a great time and I got to introduce her to my friends at work.
We went down to the sale and Mom got some shopping done.
I had told her about the arm warmers and I looked in the boxes of gloves to see if they had been put back. They weren't there. I spoke to a sales person and she was surprised that such an expensive item was at the sale and went to look in the inventory to see if there were more of them.
There weren't any more.
While shuffling through a stack of scarves I spotted them!
Imagine my surprise!
There were hundreds of items in this huge place - but none as luxurious as these arm warmers.
I shouted for my mother - I was so excited to show them to her.
When I put them on I noticed that a seam, near the wrist, was open...and got even more excited.
I tracked down the employee and showed her.
This won't do, she said, I'm taking these to the manager.
I told her that he laughed at me yesterday but it didn't deter her.
She came back smiling.
50% off (before my discount!).
I had to buy them.
The seam will be very easy to repair and they are so beautiful! (I know, I know, still very expensive but I have many ways to justify the expense - the least of which is that I don't own anything cashmere...which is a good excuse, right? My real reasoning? Last night, the editors of BlogHer asked if they could run a post of mine from here. I post once or twice a month at BeautyHacks but this would be an additional post ~ hence? ADDITIONAL MONEY. So, please, read me tomorrow [again] at BlogHer [live at 6am] and just picture me in my unbelievably gorgeous cashmere arm warmers. SUCH A THING.)
Today, my mom came into town to attend the sample sale of which I wrote earlier.
We had a great time and I got to introduce her to my friends at work.
We went down to the sale and Mom got some shopping done.
I had told her about the arm warmers and I looked in the boxes of gloves to see if they had been put back. They weren't there. I spoke to a sales person and she was surprised that such an expensive item was at the sale and went to look in the inventory to see if there were more of them.
There weren't any more.
While shuffling through a stack of scarves I spotted them!
Imagine my surprise!
There were hundreds of items in this huge place - but none as luxurious as these arm warmers.
I shouted for my mother - I was so excited to show them to her.
When I put them on I noticed that a seam, near the wrist, was open...and got even more excited.
I tracked down the employee and showed her.
This won't do, she said, I'm taking these to the manager.
I told her that he laughed at me yesterday but it didn't deter her.
She came back smiling.
50% off (before my discount!).
I had to buy them.
The seam will be very easy to repair and they are so beautiful! (I know, I know, still very expensive but I have many ways to justify the expense - the least of which is that I don't own anything cashmere...which is a good excuse, right? My real reasoning? Last night, the editors of BlogHer asked if they could run a post of mine from here. I post once or twice a month at BeautyHacks but this would be an additional post ~ hence? ADDITIONAL MONEY. So, please, read me tomorrow [again] at BlogHer [live at 6am] and just picture me in my unbelievably gorgeous cashmere arm warmers. SUCH A THING.)
a short story about the sample sale
There are lots and lots of sample sales in the building next door to the building I work in. There are sales of expensive jeans, of linens, of exquisite silk goods and luxury baby clothes. I don't go to many of them (I'd be broke if I did) but there are a couple that I watch for and yesterday I went to one of the ones that is worth my time (and money).
It's an accessories manufacturer that is unloading their stock this week and I went down there to do some Christmas shopping.
I did very well the first time I went. I was able to find great stuff for each of my three nieces (my goal for the morning) and I found some nifty stuff for K to give me for Christmas. (We were going to give each other a new television but have lost our enthusiasm for it.)
I came back upstairs feeling pretty smug about my choices and thrilled because I stayed on target budget-wise. We are fortunate, at my company, as we have done a project with this organization in the past and have an additional 25% off their merchandise at their sales (so, you can imagine, a person could really do some serious shopping).
Later in the morning, I had an errand to run and went back down to the sale. (We even have our own entrance so we don't have to wait on the line outside.)
I bought a gorgeous camel-colored cashmere scarf for someone else and then poked around for just a few minutes with some co-workers (we'll all go down to the sale a few times over the next few days).
And then I made a discovery.
In this gigantic sale (several thousand square feet of selling space) where nothing was priced at more than $30 or $40, I managed to find something extraordinary....
Under a huge pile (several cartons of gloves) I saw a tag. It was a purple tag and there were no other purple tags in the place.
Attached to this tag was the most magnificent cashmere.
A pair of cashmere armwarmers.
A pair of unbelievably finely knitted, charcoal grey, cashmere armwarmers like I have never seen. They were finished more beautifully than any knitwear I have ever seen and I pulled them on before I thought more about it.
They were warm and looked wonderful over my black turtleneck sweater.
They covered most of my hands and were the softest thing I've felt in a long time.
The kicker?
With my additional discount -
At a SAMPLE SALE -
THEY WERE $200.
TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS, I moaned, and a Sales Associate heard me.
TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS! HOW CAN I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH SOMETHING SO EXPENSIVE?!
She couldn't believe they were $200. Nothing at this sale is that expensive.
We stood, dumbfounded. $200?
Let's look them up, she offered.
None of the price tags are real at this sale.
One receives a coded price list upon entry and must cross check item numbers with the list to determine the prices of things and then figure out the additional discount.
We looked them up.
We did the math.
They were still $200.
My new friend suggested I go to the manager - ask that guy in the white shirt, they want to MOVE stuff, she said, and I went over to him and whined that they were too expensive and that all my co-workers were spending money and...and...and he LAUGHED at me.
I thought, for just a second, that K might, if I called him, tell me to go ahead and buy them.
But then I realized that there was no way I could justify buying them.
Even if I had that kind of money to spend on something so frivolous (so LOVELY!) I still think I would feel funny spending a couple of hundred dollars on THE SLEEVES OF A VERY NICE SWEATER.
They were gorgeous, truly, and I peeled them off my arms.
I stared at them for a few seconds.
I felt their softness and admired the work of them.
And then?
I did what any sane person would do, under the circumstances.
I hid them under an enormous pile of red plaid scarves.
And then, I went back to work.
It's an accessories manufacturer that is unloading their stock this week and I went down there to do some Christmas shopping.
I did very well the first time I went. I was able to find great stuff for each of my three nieces (my goal for the morning) and I found some nifty stuff for K to give me for Christmas. (We were going to give each other a new television but have lost our enthusiasm for it.)
I came back upstairs feeling pretty smug about my choices and thrilled because I stayed on target budget-wise. We are fortunate, at my company, as we have done a project with this organization in the past and have an additional 25% off their merchandise at their sales (so, you can imagine, a person could really do some serious shopping).
Later in the morning, I had an errand to run and went back down to the sale. (We even have our own entrance so we don't have to wait on the line outside.)
I bought a gorgeous camel-colored cashmere scarf for someone else and then poked around for just a few minutes with some co-workers (we'll all go down to the sale a few times over the next few days).
And then I made a discovery.
In this gigantic sale (several thousand square feet of selling space) where nothing was priced at more than $30 or $40, I managed to find something extraordinary....
Under a huge pile (several cartons of gloves) I saw a tag. It was a purple tag and there were no other purple tags in the place.
Attached to this tag was the most magnificent cashmere.
A pair of cashmere armwarmers.
A pair of unbelievably finely knitted, charcoal grey, cashmere armwarmers like I have never seen. They were finished more beautifully than any knitwear I have ever seen and I pulled them on before I thought more about it.
They were warm and looked wonderful over my black turtleneck sweater.
They covered most of my hands and were the softest thing I've felt in a long time.
The kicker?
With my additional discount -
At a SAMPLE SALE -
THEY WERE $200.
TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS, I moaned, and a Sales Associate heard me.
TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS! HOW CAN I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH SOMETHING SO EXPENSIVE?!
She couldn't believe they were $200. Nothing at this sale is that expensive.
We stood, dumbfounded. $200?
Let's look them up, she offered.
None of the price tags are real at this sale.
One receives a coded price list upon entry and must cross check item numbers with the list to determine the prices of things and then figure out the additional discount.
We looked them up.
We did the math.
They were still $200.
My new friend suggested I go to the manager - ask that guy in the white shirt, they want to MOVE stuff, she said, and I went over to him and whined that they were too expensive and that all my co-workers were spending money and...and...and he LAUGHED at me.
I thought, for just a second, that K might, if I called him, tell me to go ahead and buy them.
But then I realized that there was no way I could justify buying them.
Even if I had that kind of money to spend on something so frivolous (so LOVELY!) I still think I would feel funny spending a couple of hundred dollars on THE SLEEVES OF A VERY NICE SWEATER.
They were gorgeous, truly, and I peeled them off my arms.
I stared at them for a few seconds.
I felt their softness and admired the work of them.
And then?
I did what any sane person would do, under the circumstances.
I hid them under an enormous pile of red plaid scarves.
And then, I went back to work.
big waves
I read, yesterday on the train, about The Eddie. The top surfers from around the world had gathered in Hawaii to see if, perhaps, after four years, there *might* be a surfing contest.
I read intently, about the fact that the waves in this competition would be 20 to 50 feet tall, that conditions must be exactly right, that it would be invitation only surfing and that the surf world was waiting and watching and holding its breath.
The competition is actually called The Quiksilver In Memory of Eddie Aikau and though it could be held yearly, conditions have not been conducive in four years. BUT...
Surf experts and weather officials have forecast a swell — churned by North Pacific storms — that may rival those of 1969, considered a seminal year in surfing the North Shore, where images of surfers flying down towering waves helped bring the sport into the mainstream and into the perennial realm of cool.
I was excited to read about it and thought, last night, of the surfers watching the ocean intently to see if this historic event might actually take place.
Riding in on the train this morning, K tapped on the paper and pointed -
It happened!
You should really click on the photo links - they are astounding!
I read intently, about the fact that the waves in this competition would be 20 to 50 feet tall, that conditions must be exactly right, that it would be invitation only surfing and that the surf world was waiting and watching and holding its breath.
The competition is actually called The Quiksilver In Memory of Eddie Aikau and though it could be held yearly, conditions have not been conducive in four years. BUT...
Surf experts and weather officials have forecast a swell — churned by North Pacific storms — that may rival those of 1969, considered a seminal year in surfing the North Shore, where images of surfers flying down towering waves helped bring the sport into the mainstream and into the perennial realm of cool.
I was excited to read about it and thought, last night, of the surfers watching the ocean intently to see if this historic event might actually take place.
Riding in on the train this morning, K tapped on the paper and pointed -
It happened!
You should really click on the photo links - they are astounding!
coming attractions
On The Home Front:
We had some huge-ass steaks, last night, for Middle's birthday and they were great.
K gave the dog a bone and she was on the front lawn for a very long time.
On The Office Front:
My work-pal and I have decided that we are going to go over to the party venue about half an hour early. We're going to see how they've set things ups and get the lay of the land and have a glass of wine and celebrate our hard work before anyone else arrives. I'm pretty excited about it.
On The Home Front:
How many episodes of Survivor are left? I'll be around for this next one but will miss the one on the 17th for the, above mentioned, party.
Back At The Office (Front):
Tomorrow, my mom is coming into town and we are going to a fabulous sample sale together. I'm going to show her around the office and we'll have lunch together. The cafe downstairs has a delicious white bean soup which I'm hoping they have on hand.
HOME (AGAIN)
I'll need to make some Christmas cookies during the next couple of weeks. I bought some Christmas cards. We need to bring the tree in and decorate inside and out.
Time is feeling a little compressed right now - after the party next week it's going to be a steep slide into Christmas, I just know it.
Okay?
Okay.
We had some huge-ass steaks, last night, for Middle's birthday and they were great.
K gave the dog a bone and she was on the front lawn for a very long time.
On The Office Front:
My work-pal and I have decided that we are going to go over to the party venue about half an hour early. We're going to see how they've set things ups and get the lay of the land and have a glass of wine and celebrate our hard work before anyone else arrives. I'm pretty excited about it.
On The Home Front:
How many episodes of Survivor are left? I'll be around for this next one but will miss the one on the 17th for the, above mentioned, party.
Back At The Office (Front):
Tomorrow, my mom is coming into town and we are going to a fabulous sample sale together. I'm going to show her around the office and we'll have lunch together. The cafe downstairs has a delicious white bean soup which I'm hoping they have on hand.
HOME (AGAIN)
I'll need to make some Christmas cookies during the next couple of weeks. I bought some Christmas cards. We need to bring the tree in and decorate inside and out.
Time is feeling a little compressed right now - after the party next week it's going to be a steep slide into Christmas, I just know it.
Okay?
Okay.
December 7
Middle sees everything through a lens.
He makes a difficult decision, each morning. Will he commute with his camera or his laptop? His pack is too heavy to carry both every day.
Invariably, he'll report that he made the wrong choice - that the sky over the city had the most excellent light or that there was a team of fire fighters in front of his office or the perfect cloud cover was just outside his window and that he brought his laptop.
I have occasionally had the experience, with my brother B, wherein I feel as though his photos are exactly what I would have shot if I were seeing what B was seeing.
I rarely feel that way about Middle's photographs. Instead, I feel, when I see Middle's photos, as though he is always lucky enough to stumble across the most amazing scenes to take pictures of. Of course that's not true.
Middle doesn't stumble.
Middle sees and composes and thinks and frames and shoots.
I am biased and love his pictures and have no idea if he has talent. It's easier for me to tell you that he is talented at editing films or creating special effects as these skills seem, somehow, more measurable.
I can tell you that I admire him, that his life is enviable right now, and that today is his birthday.
We love you, Middle - and we'll see you tonight for steak and potatoes.
He makes a difficult decision, each morning. Will he commute with his camera or his laptop? His pack is too heavy to carry both every day.
Invariably, he'll report that he made the wrong choice - that the sky over the city had the most excellent light or that there was a team of fire fighters in front of his office or the perfect cloud cover was just outside his window and that he brought his laptop.
I have occasionally had the experience, with my brother B, wherein I feel as though his photos are exactly what I would have shot if I were seeing what B was seeing.
I rarely feel that way about Middle's photographs. Instead, I feel, when I see Middle's photos, as though he is always lucky enough to stumble across the most amazing scenes to take pictures of. Of course that's not true.
Middle doesn't stumble.
Middle sees and composes and thinks and frames and shoots.
I am biased and love his pictures and have no idea if he has talent. It's easier for me to tell you that he is talented at editing films or creating special effects as these skills seem, somehow, more measurable.
I can tell you that I admire him, that his life is enviable right now, and that today is his birthday.
We love you, Middle - and we'll see you tonight for steak and potatoes.
notes from Saturday
K is working this weekend. I'd never complain about that, you understand, but I do miss him a bit. I find that I am strangely productive when he works long hours. I cook and clean the kitchen. I do all the laundry. Today, I very nearly completed the Christmas shopping. It helps that each of the boys has asked for one or two things.
I did all of it on line and had some time to browse around.
I am fascinated by The Rotating Kitchen and am anxious to see updated footage of it as it has been rotating for a while now. What could it possibly look like at the end of February?
I made these. My advice: have plenty of milk in the house and do not attempt to eat more than one. Maybe two.
Isn't that an interesting note? "Frustration free."
ThinkGeek is a bottomless pit of good shopping. I saw dozens of great things to buy for people and put together a small order. But, honestly, I could spend time just reading the site. Even the checkout pages were fun...
I had read, last week, that the ThinkGeek staff post fake products from time to time. The Tauntaun sleeping bag was a big hit - and became a real product after hundreds of readers clamored for it.
I almost bought one of these tiny trees as our Christmas tree this year but I changed my mind when I saw the Christmas Tree Couple at the end of my street in the city. I thought I had told you about them last year, but I just checked the archives and can't find a post about them. They come from far far away and live in their van on the street every year, from December 1st until Christmas morning. They sell Christmas trees 24 hours a day, seven days a week in all kinds of weather. A truck comes every couple of days and replenishes their stock and they are well taken care of by their neighbors - families run extension cords out to the van for electricity and several restaurants and residents allow the couple to use their bathrooms. They have been on the news and in the newspapers and, last year, when I finally met them there was no way I could buy a tree from anyone else. On Friday I bought a small tree and carried it home with me on the train. There's no way you can feel depressed on your way home with a Christmas tree over your shoulder. Lots of people smiled at me. And now? I feel just a little Christmas-y.
Then we watched a Christmas MythBusters...
and Middle showed me this:
and now?
I'm feeling a little Rube Goldberg-y.
And to all a good night.
I did all of it on line and had some time to browse around.
I am fascinated by The Rotating Kitchen and am anxious to see updated footage of it as it has been rotating for a while now. What could it possibly look like at the end of February?
I made these. My advice: have plenty of milk in the house and do not attempt to eat more than one. Maybe two.
Isn't that an interesting note? "Frustration free."
ThinkGeek is a bottomless pit of good shopping. I saw dozens of great things to buy for people and put together a small order. But, honestly, I could spend time just reading the site. Even the checkout pages were fun...
I had read, last week, that the ThinkGeek staff post fake products from time to time. The Tauntaun sleeping bag was a big hit - and became a real product after hundreds of readers clamored for it.
I almost bought one of these tiny trees as our Christmas tree this year but I changed my mind when I saw the Christmas Tree Couple at the end of my street in the city. I thought I had told you about them last year, but I just checked the archives and can't find a post about them. They come from far far away and live in their van on the street every year, from December 1st until Christmas morning. They sell Christmas trees 24 hours a day, seven days a week in all kinds of weather. A truck comes every couple of days and replenishes their stock and they are well taken care of by their neighbors - families run extension cords out to the van for electricity and several restaurants and residents allow the couple to use their bathrooms. They have been on the news and in the newspapers and, last year, when I finally met them there was no way I could buy a tree from anyone else. On Friday I bought a small tree and carried it home with me on the train. There's no way you can feel depressed on your way home with a Christmas tree over your shoulder. Lots of people smiled at me. And now? I feel just a little Christmas-y.
Then we watched a Christmas MythBusters...
and Middle showed me this:
and now?
I'm feeling a little Rube Goldberg-y.
And to all a good night.
in which Middle and I explore the Brookstone catalogue
Over fried dumplings (some of which were still a little cold inside) Middle and I perused the Brookstone catalogue.
We admired the vast array of massagers -
(Doesn't this guy look like a robot?)
and enjoyed, and laughed our asses off, reading about the wide variety of Slankets.
And we realized, whilst wondering if we might get food poisoning from the underdone dumplings, that the Ultimate Slanket has yet to be invented.
Please remember, you've read it here FIRST.
We propose the following:
A QUEEN SIZED SLANKET.
WITH POCKETS.
WHICH VIBRATES.
AND IS HEATED.
AND HAS BUILT IN UNDERWEAR.
Picture it, if you dare.
A fleece, queen-sized blanket, with sleeves (or it wouldn't be a SLANKET) that vibrates (soothe those aching muscles, right?) with pockets (some on the inside - for tissues, for example/ some on the outside - how annoying is it when the tv remote falls to the floor?) with UNDERWEAR (K and I sometimes fight for control of the blanket...I'm only sayin. Having underwear built IN to the Slanket, in cozy fleece, would keep it in place on our bed).
Feel free to contact me if you work for Brookstone. I can buy some fleece yardage and dig the sewing machine out of the attic. I'm sure I could whip up a prototype in a weekend.
We admired the vast array of massagers -
(Doesn't this guy look like a robot?)
and enjoyed, and laughed our asses off, reading about the wide variety of Slankets.
And we realized, whilst wondering if we might get food poisoning from the underdone dumplings, that the Ultimate Slanket has yet to be invented.
Please remember, you've read it here FIRST.
We propose the following:
A QUEEN SIZED SLANKET.
WITH POCKETS.
WHICH VIBRATES.
AND IS HEATED.
AND HAS BUILT IN UNDERWEAR.
Picture it, if you dare.
A fleece, queen-sized blanket, with sleeves (or it wouldn't be a SLANKET) that vibrates (soothe those aching muscles, right?) with pockets (some on the inside - for tissues, for example/ some on the outside - how annoying is it when the tv remote falls to the floor?) with UNDERWEAR (K and I sometimes fight for control of the blanket...I'm only sayin. Having underwear built IN to the Slanket, in cozy fleece, would keep it in place on our bed).
Feel free to contact me if you work for Brookstone. I can buy some fleece yardage and dig the sewing machine out of the attic. I'm sure I could whip up a prototype in a weekend.
by the time we were done with dinner
I had missed most of Survivor.
I had alerted my mom: K was working very late, I was working sort of late, Middle was in class until after 6:00 and Youngest - well, Youngest likes to come home from school and take a nap.
I arrived after 7:00 and happily fulfilled Youngest's request for burgers and fries.
I had a tough day and managed to turn on the television at 8:20.
Shambo was mourning the loss of the chickens, which were butchered for a meal.
She didn't have a problem cooking them.
I went to the dentist yesterday and guess what? Not a single cavity. The dentist said: you have beautiful teeth! I see you are no stranger to dental work - but they are very nice teeth!
This would be my new dentist. He's down the block from my office and takes our insurance, two things I cannot say for my previous dentist.
So, Shambo is wearing high black socks and a black bra top thing. She's had some freaky dreams, she tell us. She dreamed that they voted Dave off and decides to tell the team about it. Russell is eager to convince her that it is a sign and that that is what they should do.
Do you think I should give "the cousins" gifts from LLBean or gift cards to Barnes and Noble? I'm asking.
Arm And Hammer thinks I should give everyone an Arm And Hammer Spin Brush. I'm not so sure the cousins will be terribly impressed with a gift of toothbrushes. Feel free to leave me a comment regarding what to give 7 cousins between the ages of 3 and 19 for Christmas.
(I'm open to considering gifts from other catalogues too - speak up!)
There's a physical endurance challenge on Survivor. Apparently I missed an auction earlier this evening. Jaison has won an advantage in this challenge at the auction.
The players must hold posts of wood up with one hand by gripping a rope.
It's a hot day and the sun is beating down on the players.
Jaison takes his advantage move and is able to re-position his hand on the rope. But it's early in the challenge -will this help him in the end?
Shambo struggles and is the first person out of the contest.
Russell claim he has a cramp and is out of the running.
Monica drops her log, as does John.
Brett lets go.
Jaison, Mick, Dave and Natalie are left when Mick lets go.
Natalie can't hang on.
Jaison and Dave are left. For immunity.
Neither of them look comfortable but Dave lets go first.
Jaison is a good guy about it but tells us that they have to vote Dave out tonight.
Russell and that other guy talk back at camp. That Other Guy tells Russell he knows he has the idol. Russell confesses he has it but in the meantime he tells us they should get rid of John (who, I learn, IS the other guy).
Russell goes and confides in Dave. Can we trust it? Can Dave?
Russell works it against John with other teammates.
He pushes hard for John to go.
I'm a little confused as people discuss who should go and what it will mean, but a few SweeTarts later and we are at Tribal.
Jeff congratulates Jaison for making the right move at the auction.
Is Dave concerned?
Are we really on day 30?
Who will go home?
JOHN.
Do we doubt the power of Russell?
Nope.
I had alerted my mom: K was working very late, I was working sort of late, Middle was in class until after 6:00 and Youngest - well, Youngest likes to come home from school and take a nap.
I arrived after 7:00 and happily fulfilled Youngest's request for burgers and fries.
I had a tough day and managed to turn on the television at 8:20.
Shambo was mourning the loss of the chickens, which were butchered for a meal.
She didn't have a problem cooking them.
I went to the dentist yesterday and guess what? Not a single cavity. The dentist said: you have beautiful teeth! I see you are no stranger to dental work - but they are very nice teeth!
This would be my new dentist. He's down the block from my office and takes our insurance, two things I cannot say for my previous dentist.
So, Shambo is wearing high black socks and a black bra top thing. She's had some freaky dreams, she tell us. She dreamed that they voted Dave off and decides to tell the team about it. Russell is eager to convince her that it is a sign and that that is what they should do.
Do you think I should give "the cousins" gifts from LLBean or gift cards to Barnes and Noble? I'm asking.
Arm And Hammer thinks I should give everyone an Arm And Hammer Spin Brush. I'm not so sure the cousins will be terribly impressed with a gift of toothbrushes. Feel free to leave me a comment regarding what to give 7 cousins between the ages of 3 and 19 for Christmas.
(I'm open to considering gifts from other catalogues too - speak up!)
There's a physical endurance challenge on Survivor. Apparently I missed an auction earlier this evening. Jaison has won an advantage in this challenge at the auction.
The players must hold posts of wood up with one hand by gripping a rope.
It's a hot day and the sun is beating down on the players.
Jaison takes his advantage move and is able to re-position his hand on the rope. But it's early in the challenge -will this help him in the end?
Shambo struggles and is the first person out of the contest.
Russell claim he has a cramp and is out of the running.
Monica drops her log, as does John.
Brett lets go.
Jaison, Mick, Dave and Natalie are left when Mick lets go.
Natalie can't hang on.
Jaison and Dave are left. For immunity.
Neither of them look comfortable but Dave lets go first.
Jaison is a good guy about it but tells us that they have to vote Dave out tonight.
Russell and that other guy talk back at camp. That Other Guy tells Russell he knows he has the idol. Russell confesses he has it but in the meantime he tells us they should get rid of John (who, I learn, IS the other guy).
Russell goes and confides in Dave. Can we trust it? Can Dave?
Russell works it against John with other teammates.
He pushes hard for John to go.
I'm a little confused as people discuss who should go and what it will mean, but a few SweeTarts later and we are at Tribal.
Jeff congratulates Jaison for making the right move at the auction.
Is Dave concerned?
Are we really on day 30?
Who will go home?
JOHN.
Do we doubt the power of Russell?
Nope.
the ballet
Did I ever tell you about the time I took Youngest to the ballet?
I'm not sure I did.
I've always wanted to take one of them to the ballet and never could afford it (it's very expensive).
But we are fortunate in that our schools are affiliated/have a relationship with two impressive ballet companies - the elementary school kids have instruction from professional dancers a few times a month as do the middle school kids.
Each year, at Christmas time, tickets to performances are raffled off by these two companies and one year Youngest won a pair for a performance.
Of course, because this story involves Youngest it must also involve some medical detail, and this particular December Youngest had a scary looking mole that had to be removed, surgically, from his chest, on the very day of the ballet.
We went to the plastic surgeon, I took a little white pill and held Youngest's hand and he was still and quiet and good and walked out with 38 stitches. I wobbled out with instructions that nothing should come near his chest for 4 weeks. I don't know if you've ever experienced having a surgical procedure with a child but when I am in that situation I tend to feel what my child is feeling.
Anyway.
Off we went, that evening, to the ballet. I was a little shell-shocked but Youngest seemed okay. We drove into town and parked the car and went to the theater.
We sat with another kid and his mom up in the nose-bleed seats and watched.
You know, ballet for an eleven-year-old boy can be a little boring...and an eleven-year-old boy who just had surgery might fall asleep with his head in his mom's lap as Youngest did. And I can only imagine that, at that point, I was on auto-pilot as I did not scoop him up and take him home. I sat and watched. I figured we might not have the chance to be at the ballet again for a long time and as he seemed comfortable we might as well ride it out.
It was a performance dedicated to George Harrison. It was really breathless in its beauty. I cannot even convey how sweet and light and lovely it was....and I've never found a single photo or video of it on the internet.
I was thinking about it tonight because K is downstairs now, playing Isn't It A Pity on his guitar and the rain is falling softly on our roof and I am remembering that night and I am thinking about how long ago it was and how beautiful the city and the ballet were and how poignant the music was.
Tonight, on our way home, K and I stopped to look at Christmas trees.
Remind me to tell you about the people who sell them near my office.
I'm not sure I did.
I've always wanted to take one of them to the ballet and never could afford it (it's very expensive).
But we are fortunate in that our schools are affiliated/have a relationship with two impressive ballet companies - the elementary school kids have instruction from professional dancers a few times a month as do the middle school kids.
Each year, at Christmas time, tickets to performances are raffled off by these two companies and one year Youngest won a pair for a performance.
Of course, because this story involves Youngest it must also involve some medical detail, and this particular December Youngest had a scary looking mole that had to be removed, surgically, from his chest, on the very day of the ballet.
We went to the plastic surgeon, I took a little white pill and held Youngest's hand and he was still and quiet and good and walked out with 38 stitches. I wobbled out with instructions that nothing should come near his chest for 4 weeks. I don't know if you've ever experienced having a surgical procedure with a child but when I am in that situation I tend to feel what my child is feeling.
Anyway.
Off we went, that evening, to the ballet. I was a little shell-shocked but Youngest seemed okay. We drove into town and parked the car and went to the theater.
We sat with another kid and his mom up in the nose-bleed seats and watched.
You know, ballet for an eleven-year-old boy can be a little boring...and an eleven-year-old boy who just had surgery might fall asleep with his head in his mom's lap as Youngest did. And I can only imagine that, at that point, I was on auto-pilot as I did not scoop him up and take him home. I sat and watched. I figured we might not have the chance to be at the ballet again for a long time and as he seemed comfortable we might as well ride it out.
It was a performance dedicated to George Harrison. It was really breathless in its beauty. I cannot even convey how sweet and light and lovely it was....and I've never found a single photo or video of it on the internet.
I was thinking about it tonight because K is downstairs now, playing Isn't It A Pity on his guitar and the rain is falling softly on our roof and I am remembering that night and I am thinking about how long ago it was and how beautiful the city and the ballet were and how poignant the music was.
Tonight, on our way home, K and I stopped to look at Christmas trees.
Remind me to tell you about the people who sell them near my office.
random
Aren't these amazing portraits? I looked long and hard at each of these faces and found character and dignity in each. One need not agree with the ideology of each person to see the strength in their faces.
I find these Christmas trees endearing. Considering the fact that our tree usually costs us $70, one of these may be a good investment.
For the person who has everything I'm thinking these fishing weights are a unique and interesting gift. I'd love to bring them to a beach house as a hostess gift.
I'm going to the dentist tomorrow. This *could* be the end of the SweeTart habit. (So I'm having some right now.)
Even as Miss Harper has proved herself an independent and "spirited" child, I find myself completely enamored of her. Perhaps it's because I'm not fond of pets. Also, shes' very cute.
Words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel reading Go Fug Yourself EVERY SINGLE DAY. I know they are famous, I know you all know/love/read them but I have to say that their humor and sense thrill me EVERY DAY.
Henis is the best WV word ever. EVER.
I love these little movies. That the third one is a commercial for the Kindle annoys me no end. That the first and third one are total rip-offs of the Oren Lavie (Her Morning Elegance) video makes me even angrier, though they are all good.
I've just seen Rick Steves (yawn) do a segment on the White Cliffs of Pamukkale. I found them spectacular! I also think watching Rick Steves at 9:00 on a Tuesday night is the epitome of Senior Citizen but every time I look for Anthony Bourdain that weird Andrew Zimmern guy is on so I am forced to watch Public Television.
Hey! It's after 9:00! I can get into my bed.
sigh.
I find these Christmas trees endearing. Considering the fact that our tree usually costs us $70, one of these may be a good investment.
For the person who has everything I'm thinking these fishing weights are a unique and interesting gift. I'd love to bring them to a beach house as a hostess gift.
I'm going to the dentist tomorrow. This *could* be the end of the SweeTart habit. (So I'm having some right now.)
Even as Miss Harper has proved herself an independent and "spirited" child, I find myself completely enamored of her. Perhaps it's because I'm not fond of pets. Also, shes' very cute.
Words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel reading Go Fug Yourself EVERY SINGLE DAY. I know they are famous, I know you all know/love/read them but I have to say that their humor and sense thrill me EVERY DAY.
Henis is the best WV word ever. EVER.
I love these little movies. That the third one is a commercial for the Kindle annoys me no end. That the first and third one are total rip-offs of the Oren Lavie (Her Morning Elegance) video makes me even angrier, though they are all good.
I've just seen Rick Steves (yawn) do a segment on the White Cliffs of Pamukkale. I found them spectacular! I also think watching Rick Steves at 9:00 on a Tuesday night is the epitome of Senior Citizen but every time I look for Anthony Bourdain that weird Andrew Zimmern guy is on so I am forced to watch Public Television.
Hey! It's after 9:00! I can get into my bed.
sigh.
The Holiday Party
Well.
It's all set.
The location of my company's holiday party has been announced and I can finally tell you about it.
(I realize you've been waiting, breathlessly, to read this.)
After visiting and enquiring at:
1. The private club at which my boss is a member.
2. The very fine restaurant he enjoys several times a month.
3. Five or six local restaurants/hotels.
4. A very sexy 5000 square foot loft space.
5. The commercial catering kitchen of the restaurateur who owns the restaurant at which my boss dines several times a month....
We (and by "we" I mean myself, my pal at work, KT, and my boss) chose....THE COMMERCIAL KITCHEN OWNED BY THE FAMOUS RESTAURANTEUR.
I know what you're thinking...you're thinking what? and, believe me, I thought that too - AT FIRST.
KT and I had seen/talked about/discussed so many venues. As it turned out, I went alone one day to see number four and number five. I very nearly dismissed number five and, in fact, went back to my boss and said: it really just IS a kitchen. But then I went with The Boss and KT to see this kitchen and we had time to think and talk and we realized that it would be an amazing place to have a cocktail party.
And so, we are!
This is from a local magazine...
You ever notice how at most parties, guests always gravitate toward the kitchen? USHG’s first annual Kitchen Party helped revelers cut to the chase by transforming the massive production facility of a catering company into an event space. I headed to the eighth floor of the warehouse. Inside, the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting had been replaced by mood lighting, orchids decorated the walls, and guests chose among absinthe, wine and suds. All the while, the kitchen was running full throttle: chefs forked over free-form durum wheat pasta in a creamy mushroom sauce, pork saltimbocca and a polentina soup (chicken broth, polenta, vegetables) A pit master presented a smoked pig along with beef and pork ribs; and the executive chef oversaw the remainder of the edibles, including foie gras with kumquats, and massive cubes of tuna cru topped with caperberry slices.
It's nearly all arranged and I've had a great time doing it.
KT and I have giggled over menu choices and had a wonderful time contemplating "signature cocktails."
There are just a few small details (the packaging of the takeaway chocolate)(the guest list) left to arrange - and then we will be free to celebrate.
Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to have me take pictures.
It's all set.
The location of my company's holiday party has been announced and I can finally tell you about it.
(I realize you've been waiting, breathlessly, to read this.)
After visiting and enquiring at:
1. The private club at which my boss is a member.
2. The very fine restaurant he enjoys several times a month.
3. Five or six local restaurants/hotels.
4. A very sexy 5000 square foot loft space.
5. The commercial catering kitchen of the restaurateur who owns the restaurant at which my boss dines several times a month....
We (and by "we" I mean myself, my pal at work, KT, and my boss) chose....THE COMMERCIAL KITCHEN OWNED BY THE FAMOUS RESTAURANTEUR.
I know what you're thinking...you're thinking what? and, believe me, I thought that too - AT FIRST.
KT and I had seen/talked about/discussed so many venues. As it turned out, I went alone one day to see number four and number five. I very nearly dismissed number five and, in fact, went back to my boss and said: it really just IS a kitchen. But then I went with The Boss and KT to see this kitchen and we had time to think and talk and we realized that it would be an amazing place to have a cocktail party.
And so, we are!
This is from a local magazine...
You ever notice how at most parties, guests always gravitate toward the kitchen? USHG’s first annual Kitchen Party helped revelers cut to the chase by transforming the massive production facility of a catering company into an event space. I headed to the eighth floor of the warehouse. Inside, the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting had been replaced by mood lighting, orchids decorated the walls, and guests chose among absinthe, wine and suds. All the while, the kitchen was running full throttle: chefs forked over free-form durum wheat pasta in a creamy mushroom sauce, pork saltimbocca and a polentina soup (chicken broth, polenta, vegetables) A pit master presented a smoked pig along with beef and pork ribs; and the executive chef oversaw the remainder of the edibles, including foie gras with kumquats, and massive cubes of tuna cru topped with caperberry slices.
It's nearly all arranged and I've had a great time doing it.
KT and I have giggled over menu choices and had a wonderful time contemplating "signature cocktails."
There are just a few small details (the packaging of the takeaway chocolate)(the guest list) left to arrange - and then we will be free to celebrate.
Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to have me take pictures.
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