Milk Breath and Margaritas

Weekly Winners July 12-18

2009-07-18T22:11:00.006-05:00

Soft & Furry

Happy Face

The Blacksmith

Hidden Treasure

Spinning

I'm thinking of Christian Louboutin...

All photographs taken today at Ellington Agricultural Center.

Visit Lotus for more Weekly Winners.

Horses & Flowers & The Olden Days

2009-07-16T22:07:00.004-05:00

Nashville has a little gem of a place called the Ellington Agricultural Center.

It's great for kids. They can see heirloom vegetables and sunflowers growing in the garden. During Rural Days they can shuck corn, sheer sheep, and churn butter. During the Music & Molasses Festival they can see the molasses cooking and get a taste at the sorghum mill and go for a horse-drawn buggy ride.

They can see what their room would have looked like back in "the olden days." Not a Star Wars Clone in sight.

I love this Little House on the Prairie stuff. I read every one of Laura Ingalls Wilder's books and I totally romanticize that life.

Until I see an example of a typical kitchen / living room. I come to my senses pretty quick.

Ellington Ag Center has Summer Saturdays and last Saturday was not one I was going to miss because it involved horses. The Ag Center is the home of the Nashville Mounted Police. The horses are stabled and trained there. I used to drive through Ellington on my way to work each morning, as a sort of shortcut, and I'd see the horses out in the pasture in the early light and there is nothing like that sight.

Last Saturday the police horses were the focus of the day, with demonstrations and the stables open for you to walk through and meet the horses.

This is Jose (pronounced hosea) and his partner. (Jose is the horse.) Jose and this officer have been partners for 12 years. The officer put Jose through some of his paces for us. One of the things Jose is trained to do is break up fights. Two men volunteered and pretended to fight - pushing and whatnot. The officer rode straight up to them and Jose just walked right between them. Then he used his head to push at one of them - walking forward, pushing, walking - until the man was cornered against the wall.

It was fascinating. It's hard to tell in the photo, but that is a really big horse. If he's coming at you - you will step off. The officer said even a drunk will move. No one wants Jose stepping on their foot. So, crowd control is one of Jose's jobs.

The police horses also list "Community Good Will" on their job descriptions. People love them. This is Skipper and he has excellent people skills. He licked and slobbered my entire right arm. It was precious.

All the Mounted Patrol horses are Tennessee Walking Horses. Naturally.

Summer Saturdays are in full swing and are among Nashville's best summertime Free Things For Kids To Do!

What is the best free thing to do in the summer where you live?

The Band of Bloggers

2009-07-15T21:26:00.010-05:00

I am delighted to have been asked to join PBS Kids Sprout (television for preschoolers) Band of Bloggers.

They created this adorable logo, and isn't Band of Bloggers a kick-butt name for us? I've been wearing my logo tee shirt a lot and Shark Boy wanted to know if it was a real band. I said no, and he was like, "Good, cause we're not rock-n-roll people," which I thought was an interesting observation.

Anyway, look at this Program Guide -- so much good stuff you can let them sit in front of the TV all day! I'm kidding, but it is hard to decide.

Big Sprout News Flash: The Wiggles are moving to Sprout. Shark Boy loved The Wiggles and we would sing that Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car song all the time. (You can't get that little ditty out of your head now can you.) I'm going to be very happy to introduce Bear to The Wiggles, and in a big way because they are touring again and we are going to see them. Squee! I will be giving tickets away here as well!

The Sprout folks have been awesome (you can follow Ken, the Sprout Dad, on Twitter) and they sent chocolate, so I believe they understand what appeals to the moms at least.

So I'm brushing up on my feathersword technique and eating chocolate, in preparation for the return of ~~Anthony~~ The Wiggles.

There are 15 bloggers in the not-a-rock-and-roll Band of Bloggers - I'm in amazing company! Check out their sites, all linked up on Sprout for Parents. And in the comments, tell me which Wiggle is your favorite. I swear I won't tease you if it's Jeff.

Comforter

2009-07-13T21:14:00.006-05:00

I snuggled against the pillows in my big sleigh bed and opened my book. A Sunday afternoon nap would have been nice but sleep would not come. Within an hour I heard the first quiet raindrops - scouting, reaching down to test us out, where we sat on that hill - deciding whether to call down the storm or move past to a choicer location. Thunder cracked like a cannon once and loud. The decision was made.

I heard the baby start to cry upstairs. He has become nervous about rainstorms, particularly in the car where even a sprinkling results in insistence that someone hold his hand as we drive along.

He'd not gotten his nap out so I waited to see if he'd fall back asleep. He didn't.

The rain was coming down slant-wise now and forceful against the bedroom window. He was crying again, the scared cry, and I hate that one in particular. I got up and went swiftly to his room and he reached for me with his face wet and deep-grooved with his little fear, eyes red and frightened. I picked him up easily, he wrapped his sturdy body around my thin one, and I moved again swiftly back down the hall, my desire to comfort him making him seem light and easy, as opposed to his usual bowling ball heft.

He kept sobbing even still, with his sleep-damp head on my shoulder, all the way back to the big sleigh bed. He cried open-mouthed and shut-eyed as I tucked him in and crawled in beside him, curling myself and pulling him into the 'c' of my body, all the time whispering in his ear it's okay, Mommy has you, it's only rain, just a little rain, God has to water the plants and trees you know, it's okay, Mommy has you sweet M...

He quieted. I brushed hair from his warm forehead and then settled still, closing my eyes so that he would close his too. After a minute, I peeked. His baby face, so soft and fresh, was relaxed again, eyes closed, breathing steady and slow.

He is a boy and in quick-quick time a man will materialize, stretching and stepping slowly upwards and outwards with each passing season. He will be twice my size, if current growth patterns are any indicator, and strong and smart and capable. And utterly unafraid of Sunday afternoon rainstorms.

This small Sunday he fits in the curve of me. He is unafraid now. Safe. I am a strong and sure thing of which there is no doubt. This illusion I relish, and I am willing to suspend my own doubt, my aged knowing, allowing his complete belief in my special powers to make it absolutely so.

It is one of the multitude of bittersweet things about these children; understanding that in our ability and their need, this humbling empowerment they so fully bestow is fleeting and fragile.

How To Smoke A Salmon

2009-07-12T21:15:00.005-05:00

One of my family's favorite meals is Smoked Salmon and Black Beans and Rice. This was what we made for Bear's first birthday because it is one of the (many) things he loves to eat.

I am personally intimidated by the smoker, but not as much now that Mr. P walked me through it so I could write this post for Mouthwatering Monday.

First, buy a big fresh salmon. (We have great luck at Costco.) Place it on a foil covered cookie sheet and sprinkle it liberally with Rock Salt. Press fresh dill into it and let it sit in the fridge for 30-45 minutes.

Next, soak your wood chips in water. We are using Hickory chips here but any type you choose should be fine. (You can buy bags of wood chips at most places that sell smokers and grills and accessories.)

P is soaking these in a small cooler. You only need enough to cover the coals in your smoker's bowl.

Prepare your smoker. We got our Smoke-n-Grill at Home Depot. You don't need anything fancier than this.

She's not pretty, but she gets the job done.

Next, light the charcoal and let it burn until it's gray. (This is also where you begin yelling at the kids to stay back.)

The Really Hot Dangerous Part.
Smokers have layers, and this is layer number one: Place charcoal in smoker bowl on bottom rung of the smoker.

Cover charcoal with wet wood chips. (Continuing to beat back fascinated children.)

Place your second smoker bowl full of water on middle rung of smoker. The smoke begins to rise immediately. It also smells wonderful!

On top rung, place the grill.

On grill, place the salmon. You will notice that we've scraped all the salt off the salmon and put the dill back on. (YOU MUST scrape the salt off.)

Place the lid on the smoker. It takes about an hour to smoke one large salmon.

Remove the dill and it's ready. Serve with a salad, corn on the cob, and Zaratain's New Orleans Style Black Beans and Rice. (There's no point slaving over a recipe when what comes out of that box is that good.)

Easy and delish!

Special Notes: 1) Don't leave the Rock Salt on for more than an hour. 30-45 minutes is perfect. 2) Don't forget to scrape the salt off before you smoke the salmon. 3) If the smoker stops visibly smoking, you need to add more wood chips and get the smoke going again.

Hungry yet? Visit Rachel for even more Mouthwatering Monday recipes!

Margaritas, Hold the Milk Breath

2009-07-10T08:59:00.005-05:00

There is a little blogger gathering happening this month in Chicago. It's just a small thing, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd not heard of it. And I'm sure you are like me and have no real interest in trudging all the way to Chi-town just to talk about blogging and attend panels about blogging and meet all the writers you read and interact with all the time from all over North America. The rumor is that there are parties too, but eh, whatev.

Here's my two-point plan for how to handle the fact that you decided not to go (no, it doesn't include crying and kicking your own arse). As of Saturday, July 25th:

1) DO NOT open your Reader. It will be heavily infected with live-blogging and then follow-up posts, so wait until August 3rd, click the dreaded "Mark All As Read" and proceed as normal.

2) Drink something with tequila in it.

Jamie the amazing Blonde Mom had this brilliant idea:

Muchas Gracias to Karla of Modern Media Moms and Looking Towards Heaven for designing the cute button, which I encourage you to please take and put on your blog if you are a Nashville-vicinity blogger!

(Btw, Modern Media Moms was nominated for Blog I've Learned The Most From by BlogLuxe and Karla's personal blog Looking Towards Heaven was nominated in the Most Inspiring Blog category. She's also a designer - Fruition Designs. So she is clearly very busy and very talented. THANK YOU Karla for taking time to make our button.)

If you live in or around or fairly close to or within easy or reasonable driving distance of Nashvegas, JOIN US! Forget your sadness at not attending the giant blog-thingy and attend our more intimate gathering where there will be less social pressure, no speakers explaining how to monetize your blog (hint: you probably can't), and no "what to wear?!?" concerns cause we don't give a flip what you wear. And Jamie says they make the guacamole right at your table.

Nashville is a geographic blogging powerhouse (I have no idea why, it just is) so if you live here and you blog, this is your chance to meet all these wonderful people.

We hope to see you there with plenty of crushed ice and salt!

If you plan to attend: Dinner is at 6. Jamie needs a head count by Friday, July 17. You can e-mail her at blondemomblog @ yahoo.com.

****************
ALSO IN NASHVILLE:
Did you know the cute shops on Bandywood in Green Hills have special events and promotions on the second Saturday of each month? I did not know until the ladies at AshBlue brought me up to speed!

Tomorrow, July 11th, AshBlue is featuring Mariposa with give aways and special offers all day. Mariposa is handblown from recycled glass, a family business that started by turning soft-drink bottles from Mexico into beautiful glassware.

Personally, I want to check out these Meadow Champagne Glasses cause LOVE! Gorgeous, no? What a wonderful gift and at $15, could you do any better?

Nashville is just so happening!
Have a great weekend y'all!

Guilty Pleasure

2009-07-08T22:54:00.005-05:00

I never thought in a million years I'd say this, but: Tori Spelling McDermott seems like a normal working mom/ wife/ person.

I never thought in a million years to the 10th power I'd say this, but: I like her.

Yes, my current guilty pleasure (~~apart from Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar On Me~~) is Tori & Dean. Last year at some point I was sick in bed and you know nothing is ever on TV worth watching when you are sick, and Tori & Dean: Inn Love was on so I watched it. And then I watched again and again and I sort of loved it.

I think she's adorable. The show is basically a Mommy Blog that is filmed instead of blogged. You see her life, all the things she's dealing with, and she talks about it in little interviews. Her struggles, incredibly, are ones I can relate to - the stress of moving, having a spouse out of town when you need them, having to work when you are sick, having to work when you want to be home with your kids, party planning disasters, and other Stuff Normal People Do. It's all much more "normal" than I would have ever thought.

And I think she's really funny. And (up til now at least) I like the way she and Dean talk to each other. I think they communicate really well and do so consistently. They push through being annoyed with each other and find their way back to being close and feeling understood. (Seriously hoping I did not just jinx them and thereby ruin the show for me.)

So, I like Tori and think her show is cute.

But don't tell anyone.

What's your guilty pleasure? I won't tell!

PS: No, I don't think she's too skinny. I think she looks fine.

I Couldn't Begin To Title This Mess

2009-07-06T21:26:00.004-05:00

I feel like death on toast.

Very vomitous and I have a very busy day tomorrow which includes an orthodontist appointment. Of course.

(I just clicked Spellcheck and 5 words had been misspelled so far in this post. If you can still read what I've typed by the end - you win.)

At dinner time I shuffled with great reluctance to the kitchen, which was a mess despite the fact that I cleaned it last night. (How does that happen?!?) Bear was trailing me. I asked him what he wanted for dinner and he said, "Want cake. My like cake!"

I gave him spaghetti. I let Mr. P and Shark Boy play bachelor and fend for themselves. I had chicken noodle soup which I sincerely wished my mommy had been here to make for me. (Whaaa.)

I put Bear to bed and we read the Time for School Mouse! toddler board book, from the If You Give A Mouse A Cookie line extension. (See that? I never use that businessy lingo here. But I'm leaving it because I'm ill and it's only force of habit that I'm even posting tonight. See: death on toast.)

Anyway, I feel sort of like this picture from the book, only very unfortunately my ick isn't cookie induced.

In this scene, mouse has been searching everywhere for his "honenook" (Bear talk for "homework") and he finds everything but the honenook. He finds his notebook, his teddy bear, his baseball, his blah blah blah and he finds his cookies. (See: collapsed mouse.*)

When we get to this page Bear points to the illustration and says, "Mouse dead." I explain that no, he's just eaten his weight in cookies which are made with a ton of refined sugar and his insulin level spiked and now he feels fat, exhausted, and sickly.

Like Mommy.

And Bear says, "Mouse dead."

And I say, "Mouse sleeping."

*I took this picture a while ago thinking I'd blog the dead mouse thing cause I think it's funny. So I am too too sick to be fooling around taking ridiculous pictures for a stupid blog post on a Monday night.

The mouse is back up and running to catch the bus in like 2 chunky pages, so I'm going to have some cake and try to sleep this off.

Mediterranean Ravioli

2009-07-05T22:00:00.001-05:00

This is a favorite of mine from Southern Living that everyone loves. And no one minds, or even suspects, that it is vegetarian, or made with eggplant, or low in calories and healthy.

Think you don't like eggplant much? Make this and you won't be able to say that again. I made it for my brother and sister-in-law, the family vegetarians, at Thanksgiving and everyone smelled it and wanted some!

Mediterranean Ravioli

2 t. olive oil
1/2 lb. eggplant, peeled and cut into bite-sized cubes
1 C. chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (15-oz) can of diced tomatoes
2 T. sliced ripe black olives
1 T. balsamic vinegar
1 t. dried thyme
1 (9-oz) package refrigerated light cheese-filled ravioli*
3 T. grated Parmesan cheese

Eggplant doesn't smell especially appealing uncooked. Doesn't even seem particularly edible. But trust me on this.

Coat a large non-stick skillet with cooking spray; add olive oil, and place over medium-high heat. Add eggplant, onion, and garlic; cook, stirring constantly for about 5 minutes, or until eggplant is turning translucent and tender.

You can just sort of tell when it's cooked. It's tender and darker in color.

Stir in tomato sauce and next three ingredients - olives, balsamic vinegar, and thyme; remove from heat.

It's at this point you are saying to yourself, "That Amy knows her stuff. Have mercy this smells divine!" It's the balsamic vinegar. Once you pour that in you'll know you're onto something good.

Cook ravioli according to package directions; drain. Rinse with cold water; drain again. Toss with vegetable mixture, and place in a 1.5 quart shallow baking dish coated with cooking spray. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

This - is awesome!

Serves 4. (288 calories (25% from fat) per serving)

When I make it for company I at least double the recipe.

*I use the containers of pasta from the cold case in the middle of the pasta aisle.

Want more fantastic tried-n-true recipes? Visit Rachel in The Land of Monkeys and Princesses!

General Bossy Bear

2009-07-01T16:00:00.008-05:00

The concept of Terrible Two's was surely born of first time parents who were just so (understandably) stunned to see their sweet, cooing, toddling little angel begin to assert him or her self. Suddenly they argue, make impossible demands, cannot be reasoned with, and will stab you in the head while screaming in your ear if you do not comply. Or kick you in the shins and then fall limp to the ground and magically weigh 100 lbs when you try to pick them up. Or inform you that they are in charge now and you are to go to time out rightthisverysecond.

Because they have short memories, a still limited ability to manage their emotions, and a developing sense of cause and effect (I throw this Hot Wheels car with all my might. My brother is hit by that Hot Wheels car and is now screaming and crying. Hum...), discipline is a lesson in patience for Mom and Dad. Also, little diapered dictators can be just plain funny.

I love the ages 2 & 3. I'll take the periodic meltdown in exchange all the times I have to turn my face away to hide my laughter. (IMPORTANT: Never let them see you laugh*. All toddlers are stand-up comedy geniuses and applause-whores**. Once they get a taste of baby laugh-crack, they'll keep doing whatever it was til it ain't funny anymore. Only laugh at things you are willing to have them do over and over again, in front of guests, until college.)

Bear has come literally charging out of babyhood. He is very bossy, but so matter-of-fact about his commands that it isn't rude; it's almost like he's helping you. I don't know quite how we all managed to know where to sit or when to eat or if it was time to go outside before he came along to tell us.

He'll march (literally - it's how he walks) through the room and toss over his shoulder, "Rob! Come!" like a small general. Or a dog trainer. (Or DADDY COME! or MOMMY COME! or whomever he is summoning.) While my parents were on vacation with the boys, Bear thrust his goodie bag at my dad and, giving his fierce serious face, said "Hold this. NO EAT!"

One of his most frequently used expressions is, "I NOT!" I say, "Time to go to bed." He yells, "I NOT!" I say, "Come downstairs please." He yells "I NOT!" I touch his little head while he's playing beside me and whisper to him, "You are a little angel." He replies firmly, "I not."

P always asks Bear, "Are you being a good baby or a bad baby?" Bear will yell, "I BAD BABY!!!!" and collapse into maniacal giggles.

As he marches around the house in a diaper bossing everyone, laughing, jumping, dancing (which I have GOT to get on video because OMG), I can't help but be thoroughly delighted with him.

I love TWO.

(I asked him how old he was this weekend and he replied without hesitating: "Thirty-eight.")

*I'm not consistent.
**The Grand Exception is potty training. Applaud all you want, it won't cause a repeat pee.

Do you have a favorite age?

Wordless Wednesday - At The Ballet

2009-06-30T22:27:00.007-05:00

2001, age 12

1982, age 15

Mother-Daughter Repeat: A 19 year gap!

More Wordless Wednesday here.

Books

2009-06-29T22:00:00.005-05:00

I am so very behind on blog reading and I'm doing a lot of lurking (sorry) and partly this is due to book reading.

I finished Atonement on Sunday and it was superb. Ian McEwan's writing is stunning and his characters complex and richly delineated. The story is amazing. I will definitely read more of his books.

Has anyone seen the movie? Should I see it or will it ruin the book for me?

Before Atonement, I read Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, one of the most famous love stories ever written and a book I'd never read before. I was astonished by it. It's incredible, but I was stunned that this classic love story centered around two people without a single redeeming quality between them. They are despicable; made despicable by this inhuman, unearthly "love" perhaps? (At any rate, he is as creepy as they come.)

I did not expect that it would be the story of a warped and destructive obsession. For the first third of the book I was fascinated but also finding it very hard to care what happened to them. Then sheer morbid curiosity made me read to the amazing end.

Heathcliff and Cathy make a forceful impression. They are dark, cruel, wild, and they feed off of each other and need each other in a deeply disturbing way that renders, for them, anything outside the two of them something to be despised. I felt that only belief in God would prevent them destroying each other and everyone around them. (That isn't what happens, btw. They remain un-anchored. Unhinged, really.)

The story encompasses classic themes: darkness and light, perceptions of what constitutes heaven and hell, civilization versus man's "natural" state, the expectations of society, family, economic position, and so forth. It is all quite complex.

(And creepy.)

Any opinions of Wuthering Heights? I'd love to know how others liked or disliked it and what you took away from it.

AND what other books do you recommend? (fyi... I've read Twilight & the Outlander series and I'm not big on chick-lit.)

The Star Wars Cake

2009-06-29T07:40:00.006-05:00

Shark Boy wanted a Star Wars cake for his birthday which, of course, because even my 2 year old walks around with toy light sabers and popsicles and brooms yelling, "SAAABER!!!" at the top of his lungs and swiping at things, Obi-Wan style.

So, a long time ago (last Thursday) in this here very galaxy, I went to the grocery store to order a Star Wars cake. I flipped through the kiddie cake book so I could see what it looked like (please not all black and red icing!) and Star Wars wasn't in there. I asked the bakery lady and she confirmed - no Star Wars.

I was annoyed. What planet were these people from anyway? Apparently all grocery store bakeries are from the same anti-George Lucas planet because I went to three grocery stores and no cake. I called two more and still, no Star Wars cake.

I had not factored custom cake baking into my weekend party prep. But I called the craft store, which offered cake decorating classes, to see what kind of Star Wars cake kits they had.

None.

So, since I was completely on my own, I needed an idea and I did what you do when you need an idea - I Googled Star Wars cake. OMG! The cakes people have made are unbelievable!! And worthless to me since I don't have 3 weeks and 57 tries to perfect a 3D cake model of R2D2.

Then it hit me. I'm surrounded by Star Wars toys. I can't go to the bathroom without stepping on a Clone.

I made a Jello cake (White cake with cherry jello and it was devoured! If you've never tried a jello cake you really should.) and I told Shark Boy he could decorate it with toys. He ran off to pick out some action figures and a fighter jet while I went to get the icing. I got distracted by something and when I got back to the dining room he'd already plunged his Clones into the cake and I had to ice around them.

It's a cake that could blow your head off, dude.

The finished cake.

The recipe:

Mix and bake cake according to package directions. Cool.

Using a fork, poke holes all over the cake. I do rows and push the fork in all the way. You want lots of holes.

Boil one cup of water, add a 3-oz. package of jello, your flavor of choice, and stir until dissolved.

Pour jello over the cake, covering the whole surface of the cake. Refrigerate the cake for 4 hours, ice with Cool Whip, and serve! (Clones optional.)

(I poked holes and poured the jello onto this cake after turning it onto a platter because I didn't want to serve it in the cake pan. I slid strips of tin foil under the edges of the cake to catch any jello drips and then pulled them out before icing it.)

Like recipes? Visit Rachel in The Land of Monkeys and Princesses for more Mouthwatering Monday!

Dear Shark Boy Pass Mommy A Tissue

2009-06-25T19:15:00.005-05:00

Dear Shark Boy,

One of the things I remember most clearly about your birth is seeing your father cradling his newborn son in his arms for the first time. The look on his face was an entirely new one - a light and a smile born with your entrance into this world. And the look on your face I will also always remember; the fiercest scowl of sheer annoyance I've ever seen on a baby (that I still on occasion see today). We called it "The Look."

We have enjoyed every minute of these 7 years and, as sad as mommy is that you are without question now, at 7 years old and entering 2nd grade, no longer a little guy but a real kid, we are looking forward so much to seeing you grow and change and experience this world.

As I think about you growing up I pray for you, and working on the assumption that you will marry someday (though if you become a priest your father and I will be so proud), I pray for the little girl out there somewhere who will become your wife.

This is very important: you must find a girl who is faithful, humble, generous, and kind. And who thinks I am awesome. I was the first girl you ever loved and the first girl who loved you. It is important that she understand that and comply with my need to continue to think of you as really basically mine.

I made this little video for you and made the mistake of watching it before typing this post. It has been a real effort not to write complete melodramatic sobby sap because the video made me all teary but really - I'm so happy on your 7th birthday!

I see here how tiny you were! I remember how happy I was that your sister finally had a sibling. (She is happy about it too now.) I remember how very much you loved construction equipment! I see what a great big brother you have become and how little Bear wants to copy everything you do and my heart explodes in a happy confetti of frogs and dirt and footballs and sharks.

You are a special kid. I love you all the way out to the Kuiper Belt and beyond - boundless and endless.

Happy 7th Birthday Shark Boy.

Heart Land

2009-06-24T21:31:00.004-05:00

I took this picture of the lovely Kentucky countryside last weekend.

I like farms a lot. I like farm houses, I like barns, I like to plant and grow things, I like farm animals. I romanticize farm life and imagine myself easily living that life. Gingham curtains and jelly jars and house dresses.

OK, so not house dresses. But I could learn to live in a pair of Levis. (I see you over there, in the corner, smirking and making your Green Acres joke.)

My husband's family are beach people. This is a picture of the beach he grew up on. It is lovely and I enjoy visiting there.

However, I do not dream of living at the beach.

This is the place that, so far, of the places I've seen, has made me weep.

Not in sadness, of course, but the weepy you get from being overwhelmed and awed and humbled by something so beautiful you can't look and you can't look away and you hear God whispering in the air and your soul recognizes something you've never seen before.

Tears literally pricked my eyes when I first saw these mountains.

I would happily live right here, on the banks of this stream.

I would ride Saucy here instead of driving my SUV.

I think I'm a mountain girl.

There's this too:

Deserts and canyons. Always an option and I certainly love this part of the west, even the parts that look for all the world like the surface of Mars.

Soon, I'm going to blog about this photo I took. I did not use a zoom lens by the way, and it was most certainly not taken in a zoo. Good story.

Mountains or beaches? What place holds your heart?

I Can Do Anything

2009-06-23T21:58:00.005-05:00

So for over a week now I've been able to do whatever I want.

Sitting at my desk at the end of the work day I suddenly realize:

I can finish whatever I'm in the middle of even if it takes another hour.
I can go get my nails done.
I can go to a movie.*
I can go shoe shopping.
I can go have coffee with a friend.
I can go home and paint the bathroom.
I can go home and read my book or take a bath or drink Mint Juleps or just go straight to bed.*

It's really WEIRD. I feel free and relieved of some pressure, but also at loose ends and kind of bored.

My boys have been traveling with my parents and won't be back until Friday. Eleven days. It's a long time without my boys.

I think I should have enjoyed it more, but it sort of sucked the energy out of me. I expected to stay busy getting things done that children underfoot prevent (like painting that bathroom), but instead I've counted the days until they return - bustling and shoving and Bear standing in the dog's water dish and Shark carefully lining the edge of my Jacuzzi with a triple row of plastic sharks while SpongeBob and Patrick blare in the background.

Messy, loud, and stressful. And I miss it.

I miss them.

I want to squeeze this chub.

I want to make this handsome little guy hold still for a hug.

Because I've not been able to figure out how to get off the dime with this discomforting freedom, I now have to cram a bunch of stuff into the next 2 days, including birthday party planning and painting that darn bathroom.

Next year I want them to be with my parents for 2 weeks and not at camp/day care but one week of it might have to be here at home. Or near here, so I can visit.

Being able to do whatever you want for more than 2 consecutive days (when not on vacation) is overrated.

*The only things I actually have done.

90 Proof Americana

2009-06-21T17:46:00.010-05:00

Bourbon, like jazz music and the literary short story, is a uniquely American art form. Unlike jazz and the short story however, it cannot be copied elsewhere. For a whiskey to receive the label "bourbon" it must be made in America, and 95% of the bourbon produced is made in Kentucky.

Mr. P and I took advantage of a kid-free weekend (i.e. we were completely at loose ends without boys to wrangle) to travel a section of the Kentucky Bourbon Trail.

I'm going to tell you about Maker's Mark because it was the prettiest. (Sorry - that's what you get when a girl writes about bourbon.)

Situated in a picturesque, tree lined hollow, the distillery is composed of a small number of neat, dark buildings trimmed in that famous Maker's Mark red.

I learned that the reason nearly all bourbon is made in Kentucky is because of the water. Kentucky has a layer of limestone in the earth, and limestone filters iron from the water. Iron in the water turns bourbon very dark and affects the taste, making Kentucky's naturally iron-free water ideal.

The process goes something like this: Grains are crushed - corn (bourbon must contain at least 51% corn, which makes it sweeter than whiskey), barley malt, wheat, - and go into the cooker with the limestone water and sour mash water (water drained from the previous day's cooking) and slow cooked for 3.5 hours.

It is poured into cypress wood vats. At Maker's Mark, the vats are 12 feet around and 12 feet deep (don't drop your camera) and some of the vats are over 100 years old.

150 gallons of yeast is added to the mash. You can see the yeast causing it to bubble up.

We were allowed to stick a finger in and taste the mash, which is yeasty (duh) and a bit sour.

It goes next to the still & the distillation tanks, where evaporation makes the air inside and surrounding the entire building smell like bread dough. The smell is absolutely wonderful and the lost portion of the bourbon to evaporation is called "the angel's share."

This is the still. It's 30 feet tall.

The clear bourbon (it looks like water) is poured into white oak barrels where it will begin the aging process. The barrels are made in Kentucky (with no glue or nails), and are burned, or charred, on the inside. The charring is critical as it caramelizes the sugar in the oak, allowing the bourbon to draw sweetness as it ages and also giving it it's distinctive amber color.

The free tour ends with a tasting. You get a shot of "white dog," which is what they call the newly distilled, yet to be aged whiskey. Moonshine, basically. And a shot of aged Maker's Mark bourbon.

The cough is part of the finish. I'm sure of that. *cough* *dabs eyes*

Maker's Mark is a handcrafted small-batch bourbon maker. The small size of the building where the still and the fermenting tanks are located is surprising when you consider they supply the world - 20 countries - with Maker's Mark. Each bottle is even hand labeled and hand dipped in that red wax.

They even let you dip your own bottle! In each case of Maker's they "slam dunk" two bottles, meaning that instead of dunking just the neck of the bottle, they plunge it in all the way to the label. Slam dunked bottles are apparently sought by collectors and if you ever see one you should buy it.

I slam dunked my bottle.

She's explaining what to do and I'm paying strict attention since the wax is 350 degrees!

Slam dunk!

And I did it! No 3rd degree burns!

The Bourbon Trail tours are fascinating and free. The distillers each have secret recipes, some dating back hundreds of years, and have made an art of distilling, mixing, and aging bourbon.

And back at home I have proudly displayed my bottle on the bar. It has a "foot" - a puddle of red wax at the base. And P got me some mint julep mix, so guess what I'm going to be sipping on the deck this evening!

Note 1: The blurry pictures are blurry because the focus on my camera only works about 1/3 of the time. It's so frustrating I can't even talk about it. Conveniently, it makes me need a shot of bourbon.

Note 2: This post was not in any way sponsored or compensated. I'm sharing our fun learnings with you because I love you.

CHEERS!

On The Rocks With A Splash Of Tylenol

2009-06-18T21:30:00.003-05:00

Edited to add: Blogger feeds are horked up this week and so this blog isn't feeding into the places it would normally appear, like Google Reader (do you hear me screaming?!? do ya?!?). Have been trying all week to figure this out and FAIL. Also, if I haven't visited your blog this week it's maybe because your feed is not updating in my Reader (do you hear me weeping?).

If you are smarter than me and know what to do about this (I've validated my feed already, btw), please email me so I can stop whining and obsessing and asking Twitter (which btw has been NO HELP AT ALL, violating Twitter's entire REASON FOR BEING). Pleeeeeese! help me.

Here is today's post, for those of you who can SEE IT ~sobs~:

It's important to be a lifelong learner, especially as you get older and *ahem* less sharp.

So, this weekend Mr. P and I are going to learn something new - how to make Bourbon! And Whiskey! And Moonshine! And hopefully what the hell the difference is!

I'm going take a lot of ~~blurry~~ ~~crooked~~ pictures and blog about it, obviously. So come back next week for that so you can learn too, although you may have to squint like an old person to focus the photos. (Give me a break - I'm going to be drinking ~~lighter fluid~~ moonshine!)

We've done winery tours in California and loved that, so we'll see how this compares. Of course there is the obvious switch from drinking grape-based alcoholic beverages with perhaps good legs, an aroma of freshwater stone with forward notes of pepper & quince, austere in it's bouquet, layered with a vibrant finish, very unctuous on the tongue, to swilling and choking down amber-colored FIRE. It should be super fun!

TRIVIA! You may know that Jack Daniel's is made here in Tennessee in a dry county. A dry county is one in which the sale of alcohol is illegal.

Yep - you read that right. They can make whiskey at their distillery and you can come and take a tour and watch how they do it. But you can't buy it.

We should be Tennessee: The Irony State. Or Tennessee: The HAHA Just Teasing State.

(This is the giant backdrop behind the luggage carousel in the Nashville airport. Welcome ~hic~ to Tenna-shhheeeee!)

Other counties are ~~swimming in it~~ "wet" though, and Mr. P says you aren't a Tennessean unless you have a large bottle of JD in your house. We have several.

But have you tried Maker's Mark? Look I'm no expert but even I can tell it's smoother and gooder. (is too a word when you are discussing whiskey.)

So, are you a ~~wino~~ wine lover? Do you like bourbon or whiskey? Do you man-up and drink it on the rocks or do you mix it with Coke like a girl?

I am ridiculously excited at the prospect of seeing the whiskey-making process. Mr. P may be in trouble cause I'm not one to hold my liquor well. He's already intimating that perhaps I should stick to sniffing instead of quaffing.

heh.

Shark Bites - Typical Boy

2009-06-16T21:00:00.000-05:00

We were expecting company in one hour and I was dashing around and Shark Boy crossed my path.

"You," I said. "Go change your clothes. And put on something that matches."

"Matches what?"

(OMG)

"Matches each other!"

****************************************

Rob took Shark to the lake for a hike. It was a steamy southern afternoon with temps near 90 degrees. They came to a big steep hill and Shark said, "Let's go up there!" and Rob said, "I don't think I really want to climb that hill in this heat."

Then they came to a slope downhill into a swampy area. "Let's go down there!" Shark said and my dad said, "No, it's all muddy down there. We'll be covered in mud."

Shark looked at him and said, "One more statement like that from you and I'll have to start calling you an old woman."

******************************************

Photo from muddy hike with Mommy at age 3.

It's a good thing kids are washable cause they sure like to get dirty.

And the boys not only do not care if their clothes match, they don't even know what it means.

Balsamic & Garlic Grilled Chicken with Baked Rum Pineapple

2009-06-14T23:22:00.006-05:00

I should not be giving this one away for free. It's that good.

Balsamic & Garlic Grilled Chicken & Baked Rum Pineapple

For the chicken marinade, combine

1/2 C. balsamic vinegar
3 T. honey
2 t. lemon juice
2 t. vegetable or olive oil
1/2 t. onion powder
1/4 t. white pepper
4 cloves garlic, chopped

Pour marinade over 6 chicken breast halves and let marinate at least 30 minutes in the refrigerator.

Pour off marinade into a saucepan and boil, reduce heat, and simmer for a few minutes.

Give the chicken to your husband and he will grill it to juicy perfection, basting with the simmering marinade.

Serve this delicious chicken with Baked Rum Pineapple, as follows:

In a glass baking dish arrange pineapple rings or cubes (one 24-oz can).

Sprinkle / dot with:
3 T. shredded coconut
2 T. brown sugar
3 T. dark rum
1 T. butter

Cover with foil and bake on 350 for 30 minutes.

These dishes are perfect with each other, and a nice white wine, in the summer. (Tip: drizzle some of the juice from the pineapples over the chicken. YUM.)

Serves 6.

For more wonderful recipes visit Rachel in The Land of Monkeys and Princesses!

Happy Monday!

A Long Arc Through Starry Skies

2009-06-12T11:33:00.006-05:00

This is my favorite picture of my husband.

I took it in New York City when he wasn’t looking. I watched him for a moment, standing there looking out over the water, and I wondered what he was thinking about.

I do that all the time; wonder what he’s thinking of.

I like this because it captures him well. He's a pretty serious man, with a strong profile and a broad strong back and a strong mind and really strong forearms. I love his forearms.

Did I mention that he's strong? It isn't very feminist of me, but I do like that he could toss me over his shoulder and take me back to his cave, like it or not.

(I'd like it.)

This picture I took last year and I love it. Here I've gotten artsy with it, to add drama and perhaps capture something about me in this photo; something of what I feel when I look at my husband here.

He's sailing. Looking at some distant point, there is a destination that he's moving towards. A future. The boat rocks, as boats do, but overall it's calm. I feel safe no matter how rough it gets. He will be there, always. He is the kind of man who will get us to our destination. He is my harbor and my heart swivels like a compass to find it's true north in him.

True north is not the same as magnetic north (the North Pole). True north rotates in an arc that takes over 25,000 years to complete and is marked by the stars in the skies. Something in there feels like one of the many possible descriptions of how I love him.

long pause in typing............

Wow, this got Hallmarky.

But I think I'll hit Publish anyway because it's true nonetheless.

Happy Birthday P.

I love you always.

A

Put Me In Charge Of Your Mommy TV Ad

2009-06-10T19:46:00.005-05:00

I've been cleaning and purging for a week now. Mr. P complimented me, saying how good everything was looking. In a somewhat ~~extremely~~ dejected tone I replied that by the time I was done with this ~~suddenly over sized monstrosity of a~~ house it would be time to start all over again at the beginning.

He said something unintelligible and I went to scrub stains off the kitchen stairs.

Some ~~freaks~~ people claim that things like vacuuming are FUN because it's like time for them to think about stuff. Let me tell you what I thought of this evening, while scrubbing.

You know commercials that show a kid making a spectacular mess, like spilling an entire gallon of milk on the kitchen floor, or mud spattered kids and a giant dog tearing through the house across the white carpet? And you know how the Mom just smiles and grabs her super absorbent paper towels or her space age new and improved self-propelled mop or her little combo spray and swipe magical stain remover thingy and just cleans it up, happy that this product has made cleaning so easy that she doesn't have to get mad when the ~~beasts destroy~~ children mess up?

Well let me tell you something.

I want to see the commercial that shows the little bastards acting like they live in a barn, and the mom snags that kid and jerks a knot in him justlikethat and tells him this magical bottle of cleaner fluid, that is almost certainly not all that dangerous and fumey, is the only reason he's allowed to live, since it's going to make HIM scrubbing up that mess SO much easier this time.

And, smiling at the camera, she hands him a super absorbent paper towel.

The only thing better than that is if she can make the free-range neighbor kid help.

That's a product that "gets" me. I'd be loyal to that brand.

Nashville Farmers' Market

2009-06-09T20:26:00.007-05:00

I love to visit the Nashville Farmer's Market.

Don't these pictures look amazing!

There is something so wholesome about a Farmers' Market. They are so colorful, and they feel summery and healthy and, well, agrarian. I always want to buy more flowers than I could plant and more vegetables than I could cook!

Nashville has a really good one. Begun in 1828, the Nashville Farmers' Market today covers 16 acres across from the state capitol building and adjacent to the Bicentennial Mall. It is open everyday from 8am to 6pm.

If you are local or visiting Nashville, check out the web site for event listings (local chefs who come and give demonstrations, grill parties, The Ugly Tomato Festival), recipes, information about CSAs, and more.

If you buy some of that yellow squash, make this recipe. The coleus in the upper right picture is fast and easy growing with gorgeous rich colors. I bought two large flats for my front flower beds.

I love to take the kids and let them pick out vegetables for dinner that week and pick a peach or an apple to "eat right now." As a bonus, the Bicentennial Capitol Mall State Park is right next door to the market and it's great fun for kids. The Rivers of Tennessee fountain is lovely to play in on a hot day and the trains run through the Mall on overhead rails, which delights my boys.

Do you shop your Farmers' Market? Does it make you want to wear loafers and a cotton print dress and an apron, like it does me?

What Color Would You Paint These Rooms?

2009-06-08T20:13:00.005-05:00

I walked into the fabric store and fell arse over teakettle in love with a robin's egg blue fabric.

Working with the drapery designer, we selected it for the formal dining room and living room drapes, trimming it with a blue and gold/cream stripe fabric. We used the blue/gold/cream stripe to cover a wing chair in the living room, and chose a lighter blue with a small gold dot for the formal sofa. Another accent chair was covered in gold shantung silk.

Note: If you have children, don't cover furniture in shantung silk. That's just stupid. A child will start crying and snotting about some perceived injustice like not being allowed outside rightthisverysecond and, in despair, he will mash his little wailing snotty face into the seat of your silk chair.

Oh yes he did.

Anyway, here is my problem. The rooms don't POP. The walls are sort of a vanilla color which is lovely and really matches the fabrics, but it's all a little bland.

It needs a strong third color incorporated somehow, and I think the walls should be a color that makes the blue really shine.

The tablecloth doesn't always match the drapes. (And sometimes it's ironed too!) I have several colors of tablecloths and none of them fix my problem or give me any ideas for wall color.

So it's up to you. What would you do?

(My china is cream with blue, and gold trim. It's a theme!)

Additional Note: These drapes were hung in 2006. That's how long I've been wondering what color to paint these walls. Halp!

Cheese and Onion Squash

2009-06-07T22:14:00.004-05:00

This is one of my favorite summer recipes: Cheese & Onion Squash.

It's really simple, healthy, and my kids will eat it, so that makes it pretty much perfect!

6 yellow squash
1/4 t. salt
1/8 t. plus ground pepper
1 T. sugar
1/2 C. shredded cheddar cheese
1 T. minced onion

Wash and slice squash into thin rings and place in steamer basket on stovetop. Steam until tender.

Using a potato masher, mash squash in a collander over the sink. (The squash will be watery and this drains the water off as you mash it.)

Put squash in a bowl and add salt, pepper, sugar, cheese, and onion. Mix until cheese melts.

Voila! Serves 4.

For more wonderful recipes visit Rachel in The Land of Monkeys and Princesses!

Happy Monday Everyone!!