Are We Worthy of Our Kitchens?

Here is a fascinating article about "gourmet" kitchens and what they mean in this America that I call home.

I love this. I love this partly because I am thinking constantly about updating our kitchen (no new appliances, unfortunately) but also because I think a lot about what I do to make my house a home. The kitchen is crucial. We both love to cook, but we don't do it every night and I worry about how we'll cook and eat together when the baby times come. I feel like I have something in my grasp now, but the current is flowing and I must hold on to these habits or I'll be swept into the land of Eat Out In.

What am I holding on to? Why, my KitchenAid Professional 600!

Happy Birthday To Me

B says that I am allowed to have a birthday week, and since my 30th birthday was Friday let's just keep it going until this Friday. My day at work was really very good, as working-day birthdays go - people took me out to lunch, they had a key lime pie in my honor, I got several cards and even a couple of presents! So that was nice.

Then it was on to Bryan, America (according to the county website, "Home of Traditional America" whatever the fuck that means. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?) and a lovely family weekend. The Mr. is a total trooper and does things like sleep on the couch while my mom and I kill the second bottle of wine until 1 in the morning, and keeps himself occupied while we GO TO THE GYM (another WHAT THE FUCK to that one) and did the traditional pedicure and shopping excursions. (I FINALLY got some gauchos, Cara - $13, Maxx for the minimum)

There were family meals, visiting with the infirm, chatting with the Gmother, and general slow-paced family goodness. (speaking of slow paces, check out this movie sweetney linked to - it's about a fucking BRILLIANT act of civil obedience in Atlanta) We even built a fire, don't tell my sister.

Although I did get a lovely new watch for my birthday, it is kind of amazing to me how that isn't so important any more. I have a hard time enjoying the birthday at all, falling as it does less than a week from the date of my father's death. This year so far has been totally manageable on that front. I'm glad, although I don't always want it to get easier.

Tomorrow - kick-ass yoga class followed by dinner with Becky. Awesomes.

Puppy Luh, Uh. Puppies.

Please enjoy these portraits of the terrierists. I am posting them to remind me that mere days ago I loved them to pieces, so much that I took ten photos of each of them Sunday afternoon, character portraits. Except that A was asleep at the time, which really isn't indicative of her character. Addie has been...a challenge of late. The crap weather we've been having means that she hasn't been getting enough exercise for the past week or more, and that leads to barking when crated for the night and uncontrollable shoe cravings, apparently. Of course we should be working with her on the obedience class stuff and that hasn't been a priority, either. Bad doggie parents. Call the Humane Society.

Bink as always is a complete doll baby. I am trying to remember when she was a year old, and what a horror she could be - but I'm failing. Miss Binkowitz is Practically Perfect in Every Way.

It has been nearly eight years since I brought Bink home. I couldn't have done it without her.

Schmoga

Hey, so I'm trying to develop this yoga habit, but it doesn't come naturally to me. Going somewhere other than straight home after work? Not my style. At. All.

But it feels good, it really does so I'm trying to stay with it. In fact, it is now geting to the point that I am starting to want to do something a little more active, heart-rate-wise. Perhaps you don't know me so well but that, my interbunnies, is huge. Cardio is not my friend. Has not ever been, anyway.

But what I'm going for here is baby steps. Take it slow and habitual. I think that my life in DC, even though I didn't really have any time set aside for exercising, was just naturally more active than I've been here. I worked on the third floor and took the stairs most days. I walked seven blocks to and from the bus, I walked a few blocks to and from lunch, I took the stairs at home, I walked the dog, I just moved more. And as much as I hate not getting home until 7:30, I don't see that I have a choice. I need to get some movement in my life again.

I've been doing a lot of thinking and planning about what to do in our kitchen - I've talked to a few carpenters and I think we've picked out a countertop. This is the first new thing we've done to kick off the upcoming transformation - table and chairs. Our old table was the kitchen table I grew up with. And although it had a lot of sentimental value, it didn't really work well in our kitchen, as it took up too much space and made everything awkward. As much as I enjoyed the fact that one of my chairs was falling apart - I always assume that was my father's chair, since he always leaned it back on the back legs ("to dispense wisdom" the husband says).

But there is no room for sentiment when there's a sale at Pier 1. The base and chairs were purchased there, but I wanted a wooden top. We got that from an unfinished furniture place, and The Husband attached it all this weekend. Rock. Looks just like I hoped.

Here's the dude working:



And here's the finished project:

Dang!

I hit the eye store this morning to pick up my new specs - whatcha think?



I went last week in a panic because I thought I had lost my glasses and couldn't find any in the house. It was a crazy terrible evening - I was on my period and had started the heavy-flow-with-cramping portion of the cycle. I already had an appointment to get my eyebrows waxed that evening and went to the eye doctor first. At that point I had already been two days without my glasses, plus the day in front of the computer had really strained the eyes. So the eye doctor was a hottie and he talked me into these new, darker, shaped-weirder frames AND he talked me into dilating my eyes.

All well and good until it's time for me to make it to my eyebrow appointment. He said it was fine to drive, but the stop-and-go traffic that day did me a favor - 10 miles an hour or less was just about my speed.

I'm happy with the brows, but that involved a good 15 minutes under a glaring magnifying lamp - VERY BAD IDEA. When I left, even though it was dark, I was totally wacked but everything felt a little better with my sunglasses on. Drove down I-35 at 7:00 at night with my sunglasses, rushed through the Randalls' with my sunglasses on (by this time the cramps had kicked in full strength but I knew I had to have my fritos and tagalong ice cream)and drove all the way home in my shades.

Luckily, That Husband of Mine just let me crash onto the bed with a heating pad while he went to get me a handful of advil. Liberal applications of heat and fatty foods made my situation bearable, but dude. That's a lot of shit to go through for some hot new glasses.

Especially considering that I had just left my glasses in the guest room. Sure, I needed a new prescription. But gah, the suckage.

Please Tell Me

Why is it that when women are being mean to each other, inevitably someone says that that's just the way that women are? Catty or some shit. As if ovaries give us some special skill in being cruel?

Y'all - it was the menfolk that came up with guns. And war. And Ultimate Fighting Championship. And smear the queer, and dodgeball, and politics. Women have no kind of corner on the mean market!

Jeez Louise. It's PEOPLE that can be shitty to each other. No need to get all sexist about it.

In other news, holy shit can you believe that Dick Cheney shot someone in the head? Crazy. I think the best part about ol' Dick nearly killing someone is that the Corpus Christi paper got the SCOOP of the year because he didn't have the balls to admit he was a little sloppy with his aim.

Y'all, I understand - quail taste GOOD. Fry those puppies up and serve them with rice and cream gravy. I'd get a little flustered too, if I thought I might get to have some tasty birds for dinner. But blaming the guy in the orange vest for not calling out "12 o'clock" or whatever after YOU shot HIM? That's a real Dick move.

Party

Was a success. I didn't take many pictures but hopefully my cuz will hook me up because I think she took some good ones.

Today after I had my restorative bacon cheeseburger at the Red Robin (totally cheesy diner-type place, but the onion crispy fried things were very good, and the burger was tasty too) we went to Lowes and I wandered over to the kitchen faucet section, as I am wont to do. The Mr. found me wandering the aisle and said "okay, I think we can have kids after all. I just overheard this dad talking to his 10-year-old daughter. She was saying 'It is not' and he said 'Yes it is, that's why they call it gorilla glue. It is 90% gorilla blood' and she said 'nu-huh, is not' and he said 'Yep. 90%.'

Awesome! The most compelling reason to procreate thus far, according to my husband: so you can fuck with their heads.

Day Off

My day off started off on a bad note with a little spat with my doctor about why she wouldn't approve my medication when I called last week. Tough shit for me was her basic message. Lose some weight, excercise more. DUH, really - what about all those vegetables people are always talking about? Should I eat any of those?

Now I am going to try to go to yoga and forget all about it. Then I have about thirty dozen appointments with various carpenters and counter people. Should be a good day!

I am not sure why I am going to be interviewing carpenters, because check this shit out - my husband is obviously qualified to build any thing you (or he) can imagine - these are the new shed doors he put together using old fencing, weather stripping, and a rolling door kit. I sure do love a handy man. If only he had the time to build a new cabinet to match our knotty pine, and install a silestone counter. If only.

Stuffed

Karo scolded me for not posting to my blog more often, and all I can say is - SUCK IT. I post an actual call for comments (HI! I have no shame!) and I get FOUR. Thank you E, Shannon, Cara and LJ. Y'all rock my world and are invited to my birthday party. Enjoy the queso. OTHER PEOPLE who I will not name (mostly because I can't schpekin de schlavic) shouldn't be askin for no more posts when they can't even be bothered to comment on the ones I do have.

However, she is right. What is the point of having a blog if you don't even put anything in it? Here is what is going on with me - my 60-day review at work is coming up on Thursday. I am taking the day off on Friday (hopefully not to start another job search) and will be going to the doctor to ask about the blood pressure medicine and maybe see if she'll hook me up with something else. For the stress, you know. Because did I mention that I stopped drinking during the week? And did I mention that I can feel the stress balls in my shoulders? Yeah. I don't know for sure how it all is related (the magical plumbing of the human body!) but y'all, I gotta do something. Besides yoga, I mean.

Other things on the horizon - birthday party, already mentioned. Starting the kitchen re-do, if possible. Chila came today and I love her so much it makes my heart skip just to think about it.

OH yeah! Addie started obedience classes last week and DID NOT GET KICKED OUT. I consider this to be a huge success. She is so smart it is freaky - but can't really be too bothered about paying attention to us when there are so many other dogs in the room! And! She! Has! To! Bark! At! Them! To! Make! Sure! They! Hear! What! She! Has! To! Say! Again! and! Again! If I had one of those other dogs I would totally hate Addie, but she is mine and I love her like a pig loves corn.

I went to dinner with my aunt tonight and she asked me point blank when I was going to have kids and she's family but people keep asking me that. Kind of if it were up to me I would already be pregnant, but it's just easy to say that because I have just relied on the Mr. to be dragging his feet. But soon enough that won't be the case and - why does it get scarier as it gets closer??

Pop Quiz

If I start crying during the last, most relaxing part of yoga class does that mean:

A) I am going to start my period TODAY.

2) I am deeply damaged and will never be at peace.

Third) I need to stop with the silly no-drinking-on-weeknights business - obviously more self-medication is required, not less!

Last) I miss my daddy.

or

BONUS: ALL OF THE ABOVE?

Please give your best guess in the comments.