As Yet Untitled

Bottle of red, bottle of white, perhaps a bottle of rosé tonight

2019-01-02T09:18:00.001-05:00

Well, it's 2019. When I look at that number I am incredulous. How have we made it here? What happened? You know, the normal relativity of time kind of stuff.
Over the holidays my mom watched a compilation DVD of Christmases past. She had me come over to see myself I the video in 1991. Hey 1991, Sarah!
What struck me more in the video was my mom. She was talking about how she and my father were going to go to the Summer Olympics in Barcelona in 1992. So much excitement in her voice. Her kids were older and they were going to make one of the big dream items happen and go watch ALL of the volleyball. My parents never made it to the 1992 Barcelona Summer Olympics. A few short months later their house erupted in flames and the course of their lives was forever changed. You know who made it to Europe in 1992, me.
I also overheard my mom talking to Linda (I think) about a special bottle of wine that she had been saving. Apparently it was for a good year and a good vineyard. All things I don't quite understand nor really desire to understand but were important to her. She lost that bottle of wine in the fire. Until last week, I never even knew about that bottle of wine.
The thing about being a child is that you are so focused on your experiences of the world that you don't even consider your parents experiences. Or at least if you're me you don't. I have great parents who have continually sacrificed for their children. Sacrifices large and small. They rarely made any of those sacrifices known. It's just what you do.
I want to know about that bottle of wine. I want to better understand my mom's experience of the world. I'm slowly moving away from the magnetic pull of the internet to work on that and to truly show up for my own children in whatever form that takes.

goals

2018-12-29T06:36:00.001-05:00

When I went to bed last night I convinced myself I’d be at work at 6 am, be super productive, and then hopefully leave early if it wasn’t too busy. It’s 6:34 am and I’m back in my bed with a second cup of coffee, listening to Lucy Dacus; and beating myself up. So, that turned out as expected.
Nothing changes if nothing changes.

I think someone else should have to do these things

2018-12-28T07:10:00.001-05:00

I have to do a couple of hard things that I would like to avoid but can not before the year ends. It's funny, not the ha ha kind, the lengths we will go to avoid a few moments of discomfort. I mean I have literally stressed myself out over a couple of things that I could easily do but won't do. Anyway, I just downloaded a financial calculator; checked the APY on a specific bank account; did a simple compound interest calculation; and in about 30 minutes, when I finally make myself get out of bed, I'm going to write a check and out it in the mailbox. One thing - Done-Zo.

Later today I'll grab VINs; triple check the there is more than enough money in the bank; and then complete the sign up process for new car insurance I started at least a month ago but have to have in place by 12/31/18. Two things - Done-Zo.

If I've written down here that I'm definitely going to do those things then I will, right?

That's how the internet works. It's science.

UPDATE:
The things are done.
I’m filled with rage.
Everything changes, tomorrow will be a different day..

reboot

2018-12-27T08:37:00.003-05:00

Just over here again trying to remember how to blog. Is it like riding a bike? I feel like the answer is now, but thats not going to stop me. My goal is to take a break from my social media apps but since I know myself and I know that I love to share, I'm trying to remember how to go "long form" again.

We'll see how this goes. Its honestly a no pressure situation here, the real pressure is letting the other stuff go. I mindlessly consume a lot of social media, LIKE A LOT, but it's not feeling healthy and so I have to make a change. I'll miss finding new music so I'm going to have to find a new way to still learn about music that isn't Instagram. Obviously that already exists, I just have to find it.

I also think it will be good for me to actually write things down. I've hoped for decades that I'd become a person who wrote things in the notebooks and journals I have tried to carry but has never taken. At this point, I do write lists though so progress can happen.

Schlitzie Dog the Cat

2014-01-17T08:40:00.000-05:00

I asked my friend Sarah last night if it would be creepy if I blogged about my dying/dead cat. She assured me that it would not. I hope it's not. This seems the most appropriate place to blog as this has been my "grief blogger" spot for years.

Before I get to the cat, how can it be over three years since I last blogged.

Schlitzie's death happened pretty quickly this week to be honest. She had been out climbing around in the rafters last week but then she started spending all her time in the downstairs bathroom on the bath mat. This wasn't particularly abnormal, as she had always looked for spots out of the way so that the other animals or the kids or Don and would bother her. She did not like to be bothered. But this was different. On Sunday, she came out of the bathroom and failed at jumping up on a chair. It was a very weird scene to be honest and I have to think from there she just knew and surrendered to the process.

I would be lying by omission if I didn't state that last night was hard. The Malbec helped but it was still really hard. Soothing a moaning cat with shallow aspirating breaths is how I would typically choose to spend a "Must See TV" evening but one has to be there for family in the way that family needs them to be there. You don't get to dictate when it comes to dying.

I decided to move Schlitzie to the upstairs bathroom as I did not want my mother to have to handle this situation especially if the moaning increased. When I came out of the bathroom after having moved the cat with my blotchy red tear stained face, I was greeted by an ever distraught Mena. We held each other and had a good sob in the hallway and then went into the bathroom together so that she could be with Schlitzie. It has to be known that Mena was pretty scared of that cat. Schlitzie did not hesitate to let you know if she did not like something, so Mena met her claws a couple of times. As Mena pet Schlitzie and cried she then gave Schlitzie a gentle headbutt (a signature Schlitzie move). With her head close to Schlitzie's Mena then told her that she had learned from her. She now knew that even though you are scared of something you can still love it quite fiercely (not a direct quote but this gets point across). We cried some more.

At some point Don returned home and encountered this sob fest. Thankfully he recognized that it might be best for Mena to actually go to bed and get some sleep. As Mena joked this morning, "Even a stopped watch it right twice a day". Schlitzie had calmed down and we knew that she would not be with us much longer. Don and I said our goodbyes and we went to bed. When I awoke parched at about 3:30 am (DAMN YOU, Malbec), I found that our 'old girl' had indeed passed away during the night. Right now we are waiting for it to warm up a bit outside so that we can bury her.

While I had expected to feel sad about Schlitzie's death, I had not expected to sob so much last night. It is a very weird experience to provide hospice care for your dying almost 16 year old cat but I'm glad I was able to do it.

blind to the progress

2010-10-17T06:14:00.007-04:00

In the past few months, I've been working very hard. Since we committed to moving it feels like there's more work to do than ever before and that it's never ending. It started at Separatist Rd working like a mad woman clearing out space and painting walls. Truthfully, that is still an unfinished project and the ceiling in the loft area mocks me every night just be sure that I know the work is yet undone. Like the touch ups around the light switches weren't notice enough, the larger jobs don't need to chime in.

Having brought Separatist Rd to a state in which we could move in, the focus had to shift to Fern Rd. For me it was back to painting and moving "stuff". The painting has not been easy. Almost every room has received 2 coats of primer and two coats of paint. That's a lot of painting and even though I've gotten much better it's still hard and after I certain number of hours I get sloppy. You know that wall that you hit where you know there's so much more to be done and that time is of the essence, but that there's a diminishing return of the work you do after that point because you'll have to fix it later. Yeah that.

It's been rewarding to complete all of these small painting projects that I had wanted to do the entire time we live in the house: painting the door and window frames in the kitchen; painting the stairwell trim and painting the linen closet doors. They were all small things which had bothered me while we lived there, but not enough to do anything about. Funny how then it just seemed like it would be an inordinate amount of work and that I'd get to it some day. Someday arrived and it's all done. I have one last large project to finish there which doesn't seem to daunting now and then Fern Rd. will have been completely turned over.

Completion. Holy Fuck. So many of the things we wanted to do when we moved in we'll have done. Not all of them and I'm sure Don could come up with an alternate list of thousands of things we should do, but this is my list. So tis is big, this is monumental.

But before I celebrate too much, I still have the mocking ceiling with which to contend. But I've been thinking lately about how much has been done here to keep me motivated and productive. At times the work that still needs to be done just feels overwhelming and seriously like it's mocking me. The never ending project. My mother keeps talking about how people need to look at where they are now and be pleased with it rather than focusing on where they need to be and stressing out about not being there yet. She's not talking about me, but the words have certainly echoed. I've realized that I can't see how far we have come and what's been accomplished and that I really need to celebrate these things. I also need to realize that so much of what needs to be done will get done but in its own time. I can't force things or force myself because as I mentioned earlier then it just gets sloppy.

Last night I took a photo walk. First thing I noticed is that my dates in iphoto are all sorts of messed up and somebody who's not me needs to fix that. But that aside, I was able to get a touch of perspective on how far we have come and how much has been done.

This is my father exploring the ruins of Separatist Rd. Not sure how long after the fire, but my bet is only months. So this photo dates from early 1992.

I'm guessing this is from the summer 1993 as I remember a big push to get some sort of interior so my parents could move back in.

In looking back at all of these pictures I can see how much has been done, how far we have come rather than looking at how much we still have to do. It's best not to get so wrapped up in what isn't and rather to celebrate what is.

A happy book case

A carefully crafted mantle

Antique floors

Gorgeous built-ins

FAMILY, FRIENDS, and FOOD

coming undone and then being done

2010-10-05T20:15:00.012-04:00

Today was a pretty monumental day. I finished a project that I'd started so long ago that I'm not exactly sure when I started it. I want to say it was around 3 years ago, but it might have been four. So what's this project you're probably thinking or for fuck's sake Sarah got on with it already or this post will take just as long, it was refacing my kitchen cabinets.

I hated the kitchen cabinets when we bought the house but at that time I was a little pregnant and I had a two year old so cabinets weren't even on my 'to think about' list. So there they were these brown cabinets, mocking me night and day, saying things like "We're so 80's it hurts" and "People are talking about your cabinets and they're saying, OUTMODED". Seriously, they talked.

So I didn't know nothing about refacing cabinets but I knew I could no longer live with those cabinet doors so I took them off (around Fall 2007). Well actually, I took off the top cabinet doors. I decided that if I got some paint and painted them and used some new hardware all would be well in the land of my kitchen and the voices would stop. I'd painted the house about two years prior and that'd gone moderately well. Luckily Don was not shocked when he came home and found the doors off. Actually he'd used that as a threat more often than not when I failed to close a cabinet. I bought some paint and we were ready to go. Problem was that once I put the pain on the cabinets, I hated the color. It was way more purple than I'd thought it would be. And that my friends is where the project screeched to halt. Yup three door painted a hideous color and then nothing. We all got used to living without the cabinets and actually kind of liked that look better but it was the ever lingering project.

So linger, linger, linger it did. It mocked me every so often, but that was to be expected. But today, today I finished that project. I put the hardware on the last cabinet door and hung it up, and now my friends the kitchen has refinished cabinets. The need to rent your house is quite the motivator for finishing a long ago started project.

It's great to finish project especially one you had no clue how to do in the first place. I learned a lot along the way and made enough mistakes and had enough missteps to rival anyone. But I stuck with it and in many ways I went with my intuition.

The finishing of the cabinets is the perfect cap to weeks and weeks of painting the house. The whole place just looks nice and clean and refreshing. What a difference sanding, a few coats of paint and polyurethane can make. Makes me want to move back in. But then I'd bring all of my junk and dirt and chaos.

AND YES, WE'RE GOING TO CHANGE THE COUNTERTOP TOO. Donations accepted.

can't sleep

2010-06-28T05:02:00.002-04:00

Well, this is the second night in a row that I haven't slept well. Falling asleep is not the problem it's the staying asleep that seems to be elusive at moment. This is how it always is with me.

It's just after 5 am now and I've been up since just before 1 am. Up for 4 hours and haven't accomplished much. Seems such a same since I'm pretty sure what's keeping me up is all that there is to do. Isn't that the irony of insomnia. Awake but useless. Hopefully tonight I'll break the cycle. I'd better.

Off to make some productive use of this consciousness (the very literal sense of the word) and go for a run. Then maybe a trip to Home Depot.

Death is not the end

2010-03-01T13:50:00.002-05:00

When you’re sad and when you’re lonely
And you haven’t got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that you’ve held sacred,
Falls down and does not mend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

When you’re standing at the crossroads
That you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished
And you don’t know what’s up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

When the storm clouds gather ’round you
And heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And there’s no one there to comfort you,
With a helpin’ hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

Oh, the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation shines
In dark and empty skies

When the cities are on fire
With the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find
Just one law-abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

-Bob Dylan

Thanks for our Hearth

2009-11-13T18:46:00.002-05:00

I've heard this song since Robert started at Vinton in 2005 but it never ceases to warm my heart(h). This is seriously one of their best collaborations so far.

Hearth from Sarah Cook Curtis on Vimeo.

The perfect Christmas card photo

2009-11-12T09:17:00.005-05:00

Photobooth

As as happened in many households throughout the United States, my kids are waking up a lot earlier in the mornings since we switched to daylight savings. This is exacerbated by the presence of the kitten at the top of the stairs when R wakes up to with his early morning full bladder. Instead of returning to bed, he plays with the kitten. And then well one thing leads to another and we're all up at 6 am. Keeping them entertained and not completely annoying is now a task of the mornings where we used to be rushing just to be on time. This is where Photobooth comes in.

The kids are kids of obsessed with Photobooth. They use both the video and photo capabilities of the application. They especially love the effects part where they can distort themselves and the video as a whole. It's fun to watch them as they brainstorm ideas or just freeform. They've been using it off on and since I bought my Mac about 2 years ago. Last night and this morning were no exception.

This morning, Don and I joined in on the action and we captured a really lovely family photo. I'm thinking Christmas Card.

just not in the mood

2009-11-10T12:46:00.001-05:00

Grumpy... or is it Grouchy?
Originally uploaded by devil dinosaur

I'm not in the mood for much today. No discernible reason, just not in the mood. I tried combating "my case of the Mondays" with productivity and that seems to have back fired. Two resumes emailed and half of a bathroom cleaned later, I think I'm pissier.

Oh well, better to just own up to being pissing.

Uncle Albert

2009-11-09T13:57:00.006-05:00

My blogittyness is not up to par at the moment. This nablopomo shit ain't easy.

But I'd be remiss if I did not send some bloggy love to my uncle Albert (allie pallie) today on his birthday.

I was outside raking the leaves trying to think about what I should write when I started giggling. Thoughts of my uncle Albert usual revolve with visions of him around age 30 in too short jean cut-offs with his stuff on display for all to see; him in a speedo; the absence of an appropriateness filter; and the use of the term "lover".

Those are all, mostly, childhood memories. I'm lucky to now know my uncle as an adult. He sure had grown up nicely.

He's also oft unheralded still documentarian of our lives. And for this I give him great thanks everyday.

Today he gets to enjoy is birthday on his actual day off which I see as a built in bonus. And he received some wonderful biking weather. Here's to uncle Allie hoping he had a ride worthy of his own greatness.

This appears to be all I've got for the moment besides

This video.

and link to an Alf episode which appears on google when you search for 'we're so sorry uncle albert'. "Well it's not like this place is Shangri-la"

"Grown ups say to me: Blah, Blah, Blah"

2009-11-08T21:59:00.002-05:00

As part of the awesomeness that was today we had a trip to the UCONN Dairy Bar. We were celebrating a wonderful Football season which had drawn to a close this morning/afternoon with a loss to Rham.

NOTE: we tend to celebrate with ice cream

After downing our ice cream we hung out side for awhile playing on the rocks and then went off to wonder the Horse Barn Hill surrounds. We found ourselves in a feed of milk weeds for quite some time (more on that later when I can get the pictures off the other camera) and then off to the cow barn. Don and R returned to car and M and I walked through the field down to the barn.

During our walk M found a longish white feather. After picking it up off the ground she looked at me and said, "Can I write with it with ink when we get home?" Luckily I was able to say yes, as we have ink courtesy of the hipster art student teacher at Vinton last year. Of course as soon as the owrds were out of my mouth, I forgot.

The feather ended up in my back pocket. At some point in the ensuing afternoon it must have made its way into M's line of vision rekindling her feather pen desires. The request for the ink came shortly their after. I have some good shots (one the other camera, I know) of her penning the following letters to her father and I.

First came this one. It's similar to a lot of what she writes when she asks to borrow my phone to practice her typing.

After presenting me with this one and blushing and saying "Well, it's true." She decided to write a note for Don (rather complied with his request). And penned this cutie.

This girl is such a treasure with her feather and ink and moxie.

How the hardware store and pop rocks are connected

2009-11-07T16:43:00.006-05:00

Don is the ultimate impulse buyer. This is part of the reason he doesn't carry cash and that I don't let him do the grocery shopping. The other part is the fact that I'm a complete control freak.

It not that he disregards price or sales, but that he just doesn't think about them at all. Usually he's moved to go to the store out of necessity whether it be milk, beer or button-down shirts. The hardware store seems to be the place where he grabs a few choice items at the check out. Usually this includes a Snickers or a Reese's; sunflower seeds, and a can of spicy & sweet peanuts. If Robert is with him there's generally a bag of Doritos or Cheetos too.

Today was no exception and Robert was with him. I'm told the peanuts are in the car. But the candy was different, this time they also brought home Pop Rocks. Once I saw the bags, my mind immediately went to Mikey because when Mena and I arrived home to find Robert knee deep in a bowl of Cinnamon Life for lunch clutching a bag of Pop Rocks.

The rule was he had to eat lunch before he could try the them. Don had also bought a bag for Mena, but as she'd just had Fun Dip after horseback riding I initially told her she couldn't have Pop Rocks, but ultimately caved.

The kids were quite cautious at first. Mena decided that she'd prefer to have them in a bowl over pouring them willy nilly into her mouth. Robert started off by taking small bits and putting them in his mouth. He'd then about how his mouth was electric and then open it for us to hear the snap, crackle, pop.

It's funny how amusing this candy was to all of us. We took turns and oohed and aahed. I'm pretty sure it'd been awhile since we had collectively experienced candy.

Later, Don and I drank soda and ate the remainder of the Pop Rocks.

Next week we all try Mentos but not because of this video.

Foo Fighters - Big Me (Official Music Video) - Click here for this week’s top video clips

Epilogue

Later in the day Don went back out to return empties and buy some beer. He returned with a fog machine.

Barbie Girl

2009-11-06T20:06:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago the kids started singing Barbie Girl by Aqua. For the life of me I couldn't figure out where they were hearing the song. But it made me smile because it reminded me of Howard Stern. In '97 Stern used to talk about how his youngest daughter was crazy for the song and she'd sing it all of the time. I'm pretty sure he aired her singing the song. I miss Stern but back to Barbie Girl .

It appears that Mattel is now embracing Aqua's version of Barbie Girl and using it in commercials. So question answered, they learned about Barbie Girl from television. Thank goodness that TV is raising those kids right!

M has, of course, out done Mattel.

Hong Kong Phooey

2009-11-04T20:23:00.003-05:00

M loves to karate fight. Well her own interpretation of karate. Today when I finally submitted to this sillyness which involves me mostly getting whacked on the hands and kicked in the shin, I showed her some of my fancier moves. While flailing my arms randomly in the air and spinning, I scream "Hong Kong Phooey". M stopped and asked, "What's that all about?" I replied, "You don't know Hong Kong Phooey?" and then proceeded to Youtube.

So today is the day I introduced her to Hong Kong Phooey. She thinks it's just weird.

To each his own I guess. But that's coming from a girl who did NOT call the following video werid. Kids these days.

more birthday

2009-11-03T10:19:00.004-05:00

my mom got whopped with a big bill this past weekend. $9000 to have the oil tank used by the apartment at her store replaced. the store uses wood - wood which this coming sunday will dropped in the parking lot at the store and stacked by my mother, don, and randy. tradition.

so with this $$$$ bill and the continuing car malady, my mother arrived at our house after a full day of "keeping shop" in need of food, wine, and some thing funny. at first the kids did not want to oblige but slowly, ever so slowly they came around. mena did some dancing around the kitchen then robert told a joke or two (really recited lines from movies). and then after a stilted start due to not having the lyrics memorized they sang this one.

Kids sing Bad Day from Sarah Cook Curtis on Vimeo.

Happy Birthday Mom

2009-11-02T09:37:00.001-05:00

merrill01 copy
Originally uploaded by bobcook2006

Today's my mother's 67th Birthday.

Truth is, that it's hard to believe that she's 67 because 67 is really close to 70 and 70 just seems OLD. Seventy is one of those ages that really marks you as a senior citizen. Now my mom has been getting the senior citizen discount since before she was really eligible but that's because she's also frugal and doesn't give a shit about people knowing her age. Unless of course it means they're going to deny her some sort of discount.

I remember being that the movies with her with Don and she turns to Don and says, "I'm going for it." Which meant that she was going to ask for a senior ticket even though she was only 60. After she got her senior ticket she explained to us that the teenagers see one grey hair and decide that you're just "old". I remember when I was about 25 and was insuring a car on my own for the first time, I had to meet with the insurance agent at her office in Hartford or was it Manchester. Whatever. The woman was lamenting menopause especially the hot flashes. She told how hard is is to be 50. My mouth nearly dropped as I looked the woman up and down in disbelief that she was younger than my own mother. I could have sworn she was 15 years older.

And that's how it is with my mother. My mother lives a healthy active life. Though she's slowed down a bit my her knees these days, she still hits the volleyball court at least twice a week. Over the summer she's still on the sand volleyball court. She eats healthier than anyone I know. I certainly wouldn't palate a lot of what she eats in the name of health. But that's her passion.

So where am I in this rambling mess of a blog post. I'm at the point where I say I admire my mother greatly and I apologize for all of the times I hung up the phone on her in high school when she didn't say yes to whatever asinine request I made.

I called my mom last night and asked how she'd like to celebrate her birthday. After talking around the question for a bit, I suggested that we supply her with a nice hot meal after she works a full day at the shop and then celebrate with the kids with some cake. I told her I'd make her a gluten-free pizza. There was a pause and sighed then she said, "That's exactly what I want to eat."

I knocked that one out of the park.

Here's a picture of my mom from this past weekend. Wondering about the dots?

The Candy Economy

2009-11-01T10:46:00.003-05:00

There's something about being a kid which means the world revolves around the acquisition on sugar. About six months ago my kids decided to find all of the candy in the house. Now if you don't know me well, here's a confession I'm a candy hoarder and squirreler. It took them a good amount of time, but they managed to find all of the candy in the house. They then proceeded to sort the candy by type which also took a chunk of time. But after sorting they realized it was all just going to be kept in one big bin to the sorting had really been for naught. And with this flurry of activity, the "Candy Account" was started.

The "Candy Account" has turned out to be quite fantastic. The kids rarely go into it without permission (OK, it's kept on a very high shelf); Don and I can use access to it as a reward for random acts of kindness and good behavior; the kids are allowed choose about three pieces from the account if we go the the movie theater which helps the household economy; and I know where the candy is.

Fast forward to this morning, the morning after Halloween. All of the candy from last night's trick-or-treating was dumped into the "Candy Account" last night as soon as we returned home so this morning was all about accounting and projecting account numbers. First new candy was sorted into groups by type. Skittles was the largest group coming in at thirteen. Then came the projecting.

First the kids wanted to know the order of holidays in the year by month beginning with January. As I prattled on about Martin Luther King Day and national holidays the truth came to light, they wanted to know "candy holidays". We determined that Valentines, Easter, Fourth of July, Halloween and Christmas where the real high volume ones. And from this information came the following graph which projects the increase (by percentage) of their candy account by candy holiday.

Candy Graph
Originally uploaded by rojopelo

Uhm, hell yeah real life application of Math!!

NaBloPoMo

2009-11-01T09:36:00.004-05:00

NaBloPoMo is an acronym for National Blog Post Month. It's a month where you try and get into the habit of blogging daily. In some fit of insanity instead of pledging in my head to myself to blog daily, I actually registered. Gak!
Now I could have easily just have registered; given it a go lasted about a week and been done with it but I chose to write that I'd pledged. I have to accountable somewhere.
So blog post one of thirty, DONE! *wipes brow*

pictures

2009-10-01T15:30:00.006-04:00

Screwing around, as I often do, I stumbled upon this picture today. It's from our trip to Burlington, Vt in May. I just love it.

There's something about the contrast between the car, the mural and the graffiti that just strikes me.

I like this one too, but not as much!

And lastly a different shot from the bar that day.

MONKEY!

Truth

2009-09-30T13:27:00.004-04:00

Truth:

I started a food journal.

Because:

I've gained 10 lbs. in the last 18 months.
My clothes don't fit and I don't have the money to buy new clothes.
I'd have gained more weight if I hadn't exercised.
There were days that I ate two ice cream cones at night and then went to bed.

Why am I sharing this?

My weaknesses are not things I'm proud of, but they are real. I figure if I share my truths then I'm no longer burdened by them. It's not that I'm putting that weight on to my readers, but that I'm no longer denying my own truths to myself. That's a bad habit of many years that I need to break.

In my mind, I hear many of you saying, "Well, 10 lbs isn't that much." And in many ways,you're right. But for me, who's been in recover from an eating disorder since my early twenties, there is a lot more intertwined into those 10 lbs. It's not just straight up Newtonian physics. There's so much psychology it's overwhelming.

This is where my food journal comes in. It's a place where I disclose truths about what goes into my body. It forces me to no longer pretend that I'm not eating a bag of cookies at 9 pm while watching Biggest Loser. What it is not, is a space where I meticulously track calories, grams of fat or grams of carbohydrates.

So far, the simple act of keeping the journal has changed my habits. The late night binges are both less frequent and tracked without guilt or retribution. They just are.

Noah and the Whale

2009-09-18T09:54:00.002-04:00

Catching up on NPR's All Songs Considered.

Noah and the Whale has a new album next month. I think I shall buy it.

The Hardware Chefs . . . the TV pitch

2009-09-17T14:47:00.008-04:00

So I was finally able to get the production copy of the Hardware Chefs converted. Only took over a year. If you don't know about the Hardware Chefs, you can read Justin's tribute to my dad for a bit of a better understanding of its origin.

The Hardware Chefs: The origin

My father (Dennis Foran, Bob’s very close friend for over 30 years) was headed over to the Cook’s for a fish fry. I believe it was a Sunday afternoon, during the summer. I was visiting from New York that weekend, and was on my way back to the city that day. As I was about to leave, my father asked me if I wanted to go along with him. I hadn’t seen Bob in awhile, and thought that it would be great to stop by, so we headed over to the Cook’s for some fish and some beer. Upon arriving we immediately met up with Bob who was trying to configure some kind of device (not a surprise at all). Peanut oil was splashing all over place, Robart was using a case of Labatts for a marinade, and of course Don was getting yelled at for not doing something that Bob had told him to do, even though Don had already done it. I guess it wasn’t up to Bob’s standards. So Don was fired… but only for an hour.
I watched Robart and Bob interact while they cooked, drank (a lot), and yelled at one another in a playful, childish manner. There was something about their chemistry that was very unique and spirited. I had my camera with me, and started shooting… asking them questions about their friendship, their cooking skills, why they did what they did. Some great lines started to come out as well: Bob and Bob (one spelling, two men). I shot for the rest of the day, gathering footage, watching these two wild men do their thing. Later that evening Bob showed me some other tapes from their exploits together. I asked him if I could borrow them because I wanted to try to incorporate it with the footage that was shot that day.

I went back to New York and began to digitize the footage and piece it together. It all came together into this trailer about two guys who love to build devices and cook with them. As the edit moved along, we needed a name for the show. I remembered asking them during the shoot if they had a name for their duo, something along the lines of “The Hardware Chefs”. (I think they preferred “Bob and Bob”).
I sent the trailer to Bob. He called me soon after, and we spoke about the show. I asked him if he would be interested in shooting a longer version. We discussed how the show could work, and what we’d have to do. He was interested in doing a pilot shoot, and thought that we should start with the smoker, since he still had a lot of pieces left from earlier that year. We set a date for the shoot.
We showed up at Bob’s house with a camera crew and production staff. Bob, Robart and myself would serve as the hosts of the show. They would build and cook, and I would guide the audience through the process. As we worked he reminded me that the real reason we were doing this was to have fun and be with our friends, and share it with our families when we were done. He told me that whatever happened with the show, that you have keep going… you have keep building, let your creative ideas flow. Keep making things with people that you like. “Projects are a good thing, Justo,” he said.
After we finished shooting and editing, I took the show around to see what the response would be. It can be rather treacherous when you’re dealing with TV executives. They seem to always care about technicalities such as the length of someone’s beard. They wanted everyone smiling all the time, like Ryan Seacrest. They thought that the show should be shot in a more urban area. They had their own ideas, which didn’t reflect the show we made, or wanted to make for that matter.
I remember seeing Bob at my Grandfathers funeral. I had been living in Los Angeles at the time. It was the first time I had seen Bob since he was diagnosed with cancer. We started talking about how much fun we had making the show together, and how much he enjoyed viewing the original trailer, from the fish fry with his family and friends that summer. I remember watching Bob and Merrill leave that day, after the funeral, walking to their car together. I thought about all the memories I had shared with Bob, his friends, and his family. All the fun we'd had.
I guess that was the idea after all, to have fun; To make something together, and keep creating to keep life interesting. In some respects, I wish the show made it. I always felt deep down that Bob Cook was the real deal… and it would have been really neat to share that with everyone. But then, I also think that Bob Cook already had his own show in a way. In fact, he was the show. And his studio was located in Mansfield, CT. And his audience was his family and his friends. And if you ever wanted to see an episode, all you had to do was stop by.

I hope you all enjoy the videos that I had the honor of making with Bob, Robart, his family, and all his friends. Bob Cook inspired us to keep going, to keep building, to make our own show, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

Also, here you can watch my dad's video from the same day. it is presented sequentially as it was shot. Thanks for so much documentalisting Dad.

NOTE: The "throw away" mussel steamer is still in a closet at my parents house.