Google Tag

Thanks to The Lilac Grove, I've got a fun post for today... just go to Google images and choose photos to go with each category. I think this is about all I can handle in my current fatigued-from-the-day state.

1. Your favorite beverage.

I love a dirty martini... two at the most. Three, I'm under the table. Four, I'm under the host. I believe Dorothy Parker said that. Of course, I'm not having these regularly (even though I'd like to).

Here's one more beverage I love that I have only once in awhile... a caramel latte.

2. Your hometown.

I was born in Vermont, but I spent most of my formative years in North Walpole, New Hampshire. It's a small town right on the Connecticut River which separates New Hampshire from Vermont, so even when I wasn't living in Vermont, I could look out almost any window in my house and look at it.

3. Your favorite television show.

4. Your occupation.

But I don't look this good doing it.

5. First Car. A 1984 Ford Tempo. It didn't exactly make me look cool, but it got me from point A to point B.

6. Favorite Dish

Sushi. Of course, it would be something that I can't make.

7. A celebrity you've been told you resemble.

When I did community theater, I was compared to Geena Davis in a newpaper review. It was one of my proudest moments.

8. Celebrity on your "To Do" List.

This was tough since I'd choose Sweetie over any celebrity. I thought of Hugh Grant, but after that hooker incident, I don't think so. George Clooney was in the running, but the fact that he doesn't settle down with one woman bothers me. So my final answer is Richard Gere.

9. Favorite Children's Toy

I had this game as a kid. I've been looking for one on ebay, but the ones in decent condition have been too rich for my blood. Oh, how I wish I'd kept mine.

10. Any random pic.

I love old Hollywood glamour shots. I'd love to have my photo taken in this manner someday.

11. What are you doing tonight?

Just back from my weekly djembe drum lesson.

That was harder than I thought it was going to be. I think I need a dirty martini while I watch CSI.

Thinking Cap or Shower Cap?

I didn't really know what to write about today. I blame it on my shower valve... it's new and it's going to take some getting used to. I love my shower time. It's like a sensory deprivation chamber in there... surrounded by four plain white walls and all noise drowned out by the sound of falling water. I get fifteen minutes each day to escape into my own mind and just think.

(This is probably why there are days that I can't remember if I've washed my hair yet or not. And there were the few days not so long ago when I couldn't understand why my new shower gel wasn't getting any lather. I finally looked at the label and saw it was hair conditioner.)

I do my best thinking in the shower. I come up with blog ideas, solve problems, process dreams, and come up with plans. It's a cleansing of body and mind.

About a week ago, I noticed the valve was acting a little wonky... sort of a clunky slip when I turned it off. Last Friday, Sweetie pronounced it dead, so we had to shower in the downstairs bathroom until the plumber could come yesterday. I haven't been getting much thinking done in that shower, because the shower head is set in the wall too low. If I got on my knees to wash my hair, the water pressure seemed to low because I was too far away from the source, so I had to do a partial knee bend or lunge to rinse my hair. It's hard to have a good think when your thighs are starting to burn.

Today, I was back to my perfectly positioned shower head, but the new valve works differently so I was having temperature trouble. I knew that the old one should be turned to 11 o'clock for perfect showering water temperature. It took me at least three adjustments to get it right today, and then I forgot to make a note of where it was turned. I guess tomorrow won't be such a good thinking day either.

Snow!

In case the calendar wasn't reminder enough, Mother Nature fired a warning shot this morning.

My winterizing list is being prioritized and shifted into hyper drive. This won't last; it'll be gone by this afternoon. The lasting stuff probably won't show up for another month at least.
But never to be outdone for fun, Pipsqueak and Sweetie strapped on the skis and took a couple of runs down the front hill.

We're at about 1100 feet above sea level. The village is at something around 500, so they got rain. When I arrived at school with Pipsqueak this morning, kids were grabbing snow off the roof of my car for a quick snow ball fight.

You Like Me... You Really Like Me

After I published my post last night, I scrolled down to Feedjit. I like to see who's been reading what on my blog and how they're getting there. I noticed someone had read my post on Mashed Potato Pancakes by getting there from Saveur. I asked myself, "Self, how can that be?" I clicked on the link and up comes my post on Saveur's site with a little blue badge saying "Best of the Web". They even used my photo. I was so excited. I felt like Julie in "Julie and Julia" when she got called by the editor of the New York Times asking for an interview. I know, I know, not as big, but I'm very easily excited.


There's more! When you're at Saveur's website and type Mashed Potato Pancakes into their search box, it's me! Just me! Thank you, thank you, Saveur! I promise to never let my subscription lapse again.

Winterizing

We had a hard frost last night, and I hear it's going to be down in the 20s tonight. Our most important winter preparation is done; our fire wood is bought and stacked. That was finished in June, but there is still plenty to do...

• clean up the last three raised beds in the veggie garden (four are already done)
• wash the windows, take out the screens and put the storms down (there are 27 windows in our house)
• caulk around some leaky windows
• weatherstrip a leaky door
• clean out the deck pots and store them away
• put away the outdoor toys (bubbles, balls, bats, etc.)
• wash and put away the bikes

I'd like to clean out the shed and tidy it, too, but I think snow will be flying before I get to that. Sweetie still has to bushhog the field and give the lawn a final mow. The lawn grew into October this year. It usually stops by the end of August, but it was so wet this summer, it just kept on going.

What do you have to do to get ready for winter?

"Julie and Julia"... and Me

Sweetie and I had a little date afternoon/early evening since Pipsqueak was at a five-hour birthday party. We saw "Julie and Julia". Before we got there, I was thinking about writing a review of it for the blog, but I was worried that I wouldn't have anything fresh to say. I'd read a few reviews and I'd heard people talk about it... "The food and cooking made me hungry."... "Streep just nailed Julia Child"... "The two stories blended perfectly like a good hollandaise sauce." I was afraid it had all been said before, but I'm thinking I saw a different movie than most people saw.

I was overwhelmed by the the love story between Julia, and her husband, Paul. There was an uncommonly strong bond between them fueled by adoration, acceptance and support. They shared glances that spoke volumes without uttering a word; they touched each other often... a hand on the arm or shoulder... a loving squeeze. They were always there for each other.

A defining moment in the movie for me was near the beginning when they were sitting in a restaurant in France. Julia said that she didn't know what to do. "The women here don't do anything." And that just wasn't her. She was considering a class in hat making (which she tried and didn't enjoy). Paul asked her, "What do you really like to do?" She laughed and said, "Eat!" He was encouraging her to do what would make her happy.

I think Julia was probably easy to love. As Julie said, she wasn't a bitch. She didn't take herself or life too seriously. She was equally supportive of Paul as she followed him around the world, wherever his work took him. She seemed kind and supportive to friends and relatives.

There was contrast in Julie's relationship with her husband, who complained that she was self-absorbed. Even though Julia spent eight years writing a cookbook, she still made time to make her husband feel important and loved.

The movie also left me thinking that maybe I should have a lofty goal. Julie's was too cook all 524 recipes from "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in 365 days. I don't want to do that, particularly the part where I'd have to boil a calf's foot in order to make aspic. But I should find something that inspires me, set a deadline and do it.

Retail Stalking

Today I went to the Ibex Clothing tent sale. Ibex is a local company that makes outdoor wool clothing. Every Columbus Day weekend, they gather up all their overstocks, imperfects and samples and offer everything at huge discounts of 50% off or better. Tent sale is a polite way of saying a retail feeding frenzy. Think Filene's Basement wedding dress sale but trade the young brides-to-be for middle-aged, middle-class people that like classic comfortable clothing.

The sale started at 7am. I arrived at 8:30, and they were already scrambling to locate more space for parking in the field. Shoppers either brought large bags or grabbed empty cardboard boxes and picked up anything and everything they might consider buying. Once all potential purchases were obtained, everyone retreated to the relative quiet outside the tent to sort and make final decisions, or crowd into the communal dressing tent (one for men and one for women). The best place for shopping was the table outside the dressing tent where all the cast-offs were put.

About half-way through my second sweep through the tent, I saw a spring green, half zip pullover that had a pretty pattern and texture to it. Most of their clothing is solid color and texture-free, so I got pretty excited about it, but it was a small and it was the only one I could find. While I was in the dressing room, I was next to a couple of women who were friends and one of them was trying on the top I loved, but she had a medium. Her friend was telling her how good it looked on her, but she was sounding lukewarm at best and complaining about the neck. She did hold on to it though.

I happened to be leaving the dressing tent at the same time they were, so I decided to follow her a bit as they continued shopping the tent. I was hoping she found something she liked better. She tried on a jacket and a vest, and I lost her in the crowd briefly. My frantic searching made realize that I was now mildly obsessed. I found her outside the tent with a big bag of items she'd selected. I stayed just inside the tent pretending to look at a rack of jackets. Nothing happened at first; the friends stood there and talked. Finally she started looking through her bag. She got to the green shirt and held it up to herself, refolded it and put it back on the pile. She stood a few more minutes doing nothing. What was she waiting for?! After what seemed like an eternity, she went back to sorting, but was maddeningly slow about it. She rejected a couple of things by folding and stacking them a couple of feet from her bag. Another woman (I don't know know if they knew each other) came up and asked her if she was discarding them. She said she was, and the woman looked at them. Now I knew if it was rejected, I'd have to act fast.

About 30 minutes had passed since I first started following her and she picked up the green top for the third time, held it up, looked at it, folded it, and PUT IT IN THE DISCARD PILE. I didn't waste any time; I walked over and asked if she was not keeping those items. "Go for it," she said. I grabbed the shirt and practically ran away with it, I was so excited. I'd show you a photo of my prize, but I'm to tired to get the camera, pose and upload the photo. Stalking takes a lot of energy. If you're in the area this weekend, the sale continues Saturday and Sunday on the green in Quechee, Vermont.

The moral to this story: If you really want something, it's probably worth waiting for (at least 30 minutes).