Feeling very random lately. Random and boring, I suppose.
I probably have stuff to write about, but all of it feels so inferior. So, instead, I will just ramble with a litany of unrelated thoughts and random observations.
The television show Mad Men is so well done. The writing, art direction and acting is superb. The creators of that show have absolutely nailed the 1960's in a way that few, if any, previous shows have been able to do. I love the many layers and the understated and subtle approach to character development. Nobody is exactly who they seem, yet everyone is perfectly who they are. I am in love with this show. Arguably the best thing on television right now.
For me, Fall is the season for change and big decisions. Many people claim Spring is the time for renewal and new beginnings. I think it is really Fall. I reflect on this time of year, I recall the giddy anticipation of going back to school, Fall sports, smell of burning leaves, apple cider and Halloween. It is also the season when I have purchased a house, quit one job and started another, moved in with my now-husband. Life changing stuff happens in the Fall. Wonder what my next big move or decision will be? Think it is time for a change. I'm due.
Been traveling for work recently and just got back from a week long stint. Stayed in some places that I really enjoy. Philadelphia is interesting. Society Hill area of town, with all the cobblestone road, Greek columned, stone buildings, is just dripping with magnificent history. Finally saw the Liberty Bell. It rests in a glass building and no longer resides at the top of Independence Hall. Seems kinda sad, just hanging there by itself and all out of context from its historical beginnings and lore.
Also was able to spend some time in Austin, TX. I had never been here before. Now, prior to my trip to Austin, my impression of the state of Texas, was not very positive. I had only ever been to Dallas and Houston, both of which are -- in my humble opinion -- less than spectacular. Now, Austin is something else entirely. First, it was quite lush and green. The vibe was laid back. Bohemian art culture meets college town meets professional & upscale meets cool music scene. I feel in love! Austin completely reversed my dislike of Texas. I think I could actually live in that town.
Work has been incredibly intense the past month or so. Causing stress and anxiety. Spurring reassessment and evaluation. With nothing at all concrete in mind, I'm thinking a lot about the true meaning of happiness and whether or not it is possible to live a totally happy life. Happiness is not overrated and life's too short.
Tomorrow Mr. Oz and I are starting a week long cleanse and diet regimen. Lots of pure protein this week and then mix of protein and vegetables. Sounds awesome, right? Bet you wish you could do it too. I'll try to become a regular visitor of my own blog.
I'm literally falling asleep as I type. Eyes droopy. Nod, Nod, Nod. Done.
More random thoughts later. G' night.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Pizza Farm
A couple of years ago, my friend Jess told me about the Pizza Farm. At first, I was not sure what to think of such a place. Was it a farm house made entirely of pizza boxes? Could farmers actually grow pizzas from the soil? Despite growing up in a tiny farming community in the middle of North Dakota, even this was something I had never heard of. What, pray tell, was a Pizza Farm? Jess explained. The Pizza Farm is a real farm tucked back in the fields of Wisconsin where, every Tuesday night in the summer months, they bake lovely pizzas made fresh from ingredients they produce themselves. It was local food done with great care and attention. Once I understood what this mythical place really was, I knew I had to check it out. Unfortunately, on most Tuesdays I am at work. This makes a mid-day trek to rural Wisconsin somewhat challenging. Enter, my summer Stay-cation and a whole week of leisurely time just perfect for a pizza adventure.
Jess and I made our plans and hopped in the car on a tragically hot and steamy August day. We set out to find this gem of pizza nirvana. A couple hours later, a few pit stops to take in the local scenery and we were there. Eureka! We found it.
The farm is just a few miles outside of Stockholm, WI. You will find no signs directing you to the location. They don't advertise. They don't have to. Our arrival at 5pm was fortuitous as several hungry visitors preceded us and had descended like a swarm of locusts. As we got in line to order, several more ravenous guests were flanking us to the right and left. This place was certainly popular. Jess and I arrived just in time and were able to place our order quickly after spending a few minutes studying the chalkboard menu. The pizza options reflect the bounty of the land -- onion, herbs, eggplant, beets, fresh tomato. They have sausage made from "happy pigs" and cheese made the milk of cows and sheep residing in the pasture just a few clicks away. Add in a few delights like kalamata olives and you have yourself one delicious pizza.
It only took about 10 minutes for us to get our pie. They have 2 big wood burning ovens going and, apparently, dish out about one pizza each minute. Don't expect any fancy sides or accompaniments. It's just pizza. They don't even sell beverages and they don't have plates or napkins. Everything is bring your own and you take your trash with you when you leave. There are some nice open spots of grass where you can throw down a blanket, catch some shade and enjoy your food.
I would highly recommend making a Tuesday trip to the Pizza Farm. Bring a little salt and pepper with you (pizzas could have used a little seasoning), grab a 6 pack of beer or a bottle of wine and take in this sustainable and satisfying culinary find. Oh, and if the pizza alone doesn't hit the spot, there is a great little pie shop in Stockholm where you can pick up some yummy baked goodness.
In my next life, I want to live on a Pizza Farm and grow a Pizza Garden and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a Calzone Community of my very own.
Jess and I made our plans and hopped in the car on a tragically hot and steamy August day. We set out to find this gem of pizza nirvana. A couple hours later, a few pit stops to take in the local scenery and we were there. Eureka! We found it.
The farm is just a few miles outside of Stockholm, WI. You will find no signs directing you to the location. They don't advertise. They don't have to. Our arrival at 5pm was fortuitous as several hungry visitors preceded us and had descended like a swarm of locusts. As we got in line to order, several more ravenous guests were flanking us to the right and left. This place was certainly popular. Jess and I arrived just in time and were able to place our order quickly after spending a few minutes studying the chalkboard menu. The pizza options reflect the bounty of the land -- onion, herbs, eggplant, beets, fresh tomato. They have sausage made from "happy pigs" and cheese made the milk of cows and sheep residing in the pasture just a few clicks away. Add in a few delights like kalamata olives and you have yourself one delicious pizza.
It only took about 10 minutes for us to get our pie. They have 2 big wood burning ovens going and, apparently, dish out about one pizza each minute. Don't expect any fancy sides or accompaniments. It's just pizza. They don't even sell beverages and they don't have plates or napkins. Everything is bring your own and you take your trash with you when you leave. There are some nice open spots of grass where you can throw down a blanket, catch some shade and enjoy your food.
I would highly recommend making a Tuesday trip to the Pizza Farm. Bring a little salt and pepper with you (pizzas could have used a little seasoning), grab a 6 pack of beer or a bottle of wine and take in this sustainable and satisfying culinary find. Oh, and if the pizza alone doesn't hit the spot, there is a great little pie shop in Stockholm where you can pick up some yummy baked goodness.
In my next life, I want to live on a Pizza Farm and grow a Pizza Garden and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a Calzone Community of my very own.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Lovin
These shoes are hot!
I really don't know where and, for what occasion, I will wear them. Does it matter? Nah. I am of the belief that shoes are art for the feet. Sometimes it is enough to just try them on and admire them. Occasionally, you have to buy 'em and adore them. These beauties will rest comfortably in my closet. When I have a bad day, I will pull them out and wear them around the house. Their animal print, sassy red leather, stacked heel and all-around sexiness will make me feel better.
Where does this come from? Is it a by-product of playing dress-up with my Barbie as a child? Are we hard wired to love shoes from the moment of conception? Hmmmm.
Sick, right?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
High Tech + High Touch
Remember this post back in April?
Yeah, well I totally caved and bought myself an iPad. After months of witnessing all the cool functionality and convenient access, I just couldn't hold out any longer. Less than a week into the experience and I have been struck by:
Yeah, well I totally caved and bought myself an iPad. After months of witnessing all the cool functionality and convenient access, I just couldn't hold out any longer. Less than a week into the experience and I have been struck by:
- The helpful calendar settings. I can view an easy-to-read overview of my workday schedule on one side of the screen and get all the relevant details of where, who, when and why on the other side. It shows me who accepted meetings I have called and who declined. I also like the weekly and monthly views.
- Excellent visual clarity and richness. Colors are vibrant. Photos look amazing.
- Reading my Kindle books has never been better. With the Kindle app, I can view any of my downloaded books and the device syncs up so if I jump on my Kindle at a later date, it automatically knows where I've stopped. It's also very easy to highlight sections or take notes. Just simple drag and you are done.
- The go-anywhere, do anything benefits can't be beat. Mr. Oz and I were out visiting friends this weekend and used some downtime to check airfare and plan a weekend getaway for this Fall. A few clicks and I was able to book our airfare and reserve a rental car. I felt super productive.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A Little Piece of Americana
What to do on a hot and humid summer night? Well, we decided to go old school and hit the Cottage View Drive-In, one of the last remaining drive-in theaters in the greater Twin Cities metro, possibly the entire upper Midwest. I can't claim to know if this is actually true, but I did feel like I was taking a cruise in the way-back, Marty McFly time machine, ala the Delorean from Back To The Future fame.
It was pretty darn cool. Mr. Oz and I grabbed the pup and shoved off round about dusk. The theater's website warned us to get there early in order to avoid getting one of the bad spots right up in front of the screen. This would cause unnecessary neck crankage and, no doubt, partial paralysis and tremors. Shivers. No thank you. Of course, on our way we stopped to pick up a few snacks -- Twizzlers and Mike & Ike's. Isn't that standard drive-in movie fare? We also packed a cooler full of soda. Loads of high fructose corn syrup and bug spray in tow, and we were off.
Fortunately, we arrived in time to secure a respectable spot in mid-range of the screen yet adjacent to the concessions and restrooms. $8 per person for a double feature. Those are like 1978 prices, right? After some puppy play time and always fun people watching, the sun set and the movies began. Now, I remember back in the day you'd get these wonky sound boxes that attached to poles so you could hear the movie playing. Not anymore. Today's drive-in is much more modern. Just tune your car radio into a specific station and turn it up. It's not Dolby surround sound, but it does the trick. I also recall going to the drive-in with my parents and hiding out under a pile of blankets in order to smuggle a few extra bodies in for no charge. Nice example my parents set, eh? It was kinda thrilling, in a 007 spy thriller sorta way. Mr. Oz and I did not do that on our trip to the movies. We paid. Maybe next time :)
For those of you who might live near a drive-in, I highly recommend adding a visit to your Summer to-do list. Something about it felt timeless and classic, dripping with nostalgia and hearkening back to an almost forgotten era. A little slice of Americana. I have to think that in the not to distant future, the drive-in theater will be no more. We'll all be watching downloads on our Smartphones or accessing films via a direct comm link surgically implanted in our cerebral cortex. Drive-in's don't strike me as a money making venture, but rather a way to cling to a small glimmer of a past where, in retrospect, life seemed easier, more tranquil and far less complicated. Who knows, maybe they are or will make a comeback. What's old is new again. Whatever happens, I'm glad I got to experience it one more time.
It was pretty darn cool. Mr. Oz and I grabbed the pup and shoved off round about dusk. The theater's website warned us to get there early in order to avoid getting one of the bad spots right up in front of the screen. This would cause unnecessary neck crankage and, no doubt, partial paralysis and tremors. Shivers. No thank you. Of course, on our way we stopped to pick up a few snacks -- Twizzlers and Mike & Ike's. Isn't that standard drive-in movie fare? We also packed a cooler full of soda. Loads of high fructose corn syrup and bug spray in tow, and we were off. Fortunately, we arrived in time to secure a respectable spot in mid-range of the screen yet adjacent to the concessions and restrooms. $8 per person for a double feature. Those are like 1978 prices, right? After some puppy play time and always fun people watching, the sun set and the movies began. Now, I remember back in the day you'd get these wonky sound boxes that attached to poles so you could hear the movie playing. Not anymore. Today's drive-in is much more modern. Just tune your car radio into a specific station and turn it up. It's not Dolby surround sound, but it does the trick. I also recall going to the drive-in with my parents and hiding out under a pile of blankets in order to smuggle a few extra bodies in for no charge. Nice example my parents set, eh? It was kinda thrilling, in a 007 spy thriller sorta way. Mr. Oz and I did not do that on our trip to the movies. We paid. Maybe next time :)
For those of you who might live near a drive-in, I highly recommend adding a visit to your Summer to-do list. Something about it felt timeless and classic, dripping with nostalgia and hearkening back to an almost forgotten era. A little slice of Americana. I have to think that in the not to distant future, the drive-in theater will be no more. We'll all be watching downloads on our Smartphones or accessing films via a direct comm link surgically implanted in our cerebral cortex. Drive-in's don't strike me as a money making venture, but rather a way to cling to a small glimmer of a past where, in retrospect, life seemed easier, more tranquil and far less complicated. Who knows, maybe they are or will make a comeback. What's old is new again. Whatever happens, I'm glad I got to experience it one more time.
Monday, June 28, 2010
"Besties of Last Week" Award -- 6.21.10 Edition
Back with more Besties y'all. Did you miss me?
Past week's winners are . . .
Brazilian Blowout
A few weeks ago, I asked you, my dear blog readers, to weigh in on the hair question hanging over my head. Should I try this new, hair smoothing process and join the ranks of the frizzy and fly-away discontented? Do I drop the considerable cash outlay in the hope of experiencing a straighter and sleeker do? Well, my friends, I did it. I made that appointment and last week it happened. After 90 minutes and some close encounters with a 450 degree flat iron, my dream was completed. It looks pretty good too! I've washed my hair a few times already and still it remains smooth and silky. It is supposed to last for 3 months so I will report back with the longer-term results. We'll see . . . here is the before and after.
Before [super wavy, sometimes out-of-control, frizzy in humidity and generally unkempt]:
After:
Oh, Canada
Over the weekend, Mr. Oz and I had the distinct pleasure to spend several days with my family at a cabin on Lake of the Woods in Ontario, Canada. Beautiful weather. Amazingly tranquil location far, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world. We did not have cell coverage or internet service, no t.v. and few distractions other than fishing, sunning, playing games and enjoying some fine adult beverages. It was great to forcefully unplug. Of course, there were a lot of laughs all around as well as some tasty food including a fish fry consisting of fish caught by my family the previous day! The abundance of wildlife is also quite incredible. We saw a bald eagle and the elusive Whistle Pig. That's right. Whistle Pig. Look it up. It's a real animal.
My sister and her husband were excellent hosts. They rolled out the red carpet treatment for us despite all of the work it must have taken to prepare and clean up afterward. Thanks Scribble and Mr. Scribble! Thank you Canada and your crazy socialist medicine, maple leaves and strange obsession with the Queen. It was awesome, eh.
Jon Stewart & The Daily Show Rips on the Government
This speaks for itself. So hilarious and yet so provokingly truthful. Someone recently told me that in a nationwide poll, Jon Stewart was named the most trusted person in the media. I tend to agree with this, but also am filled with sadness that a satirist and comedian is who we have to go to for an accurate reporting of our news. Is it wrong to believe that our leaders should stand on their principles and move forward with the things they promised? Or, do we relegate this to the stuff of pure naivety and misguided hope? When do we stop allowing ourselves to be pandered to and duped and, instead, insist on follow through and "change we can believe in?" While many things in this world are nuanced shades of gray, integrity is not one of them. Either you have it or you don't. I, for one, am still hopeful that these promises will be kept. I believe in you, Mr. President. Do you believe in us?
Past week's winners are . . .
Brazilian Blowout
A few weeks ago, I asked you, my dear blog readers, to weigh in on the hair question hanging over my head. Should I try this new, hair smoothing process and join the ranks of the frizzy and fly-away discontented? Do I drop the considerable cash outlay in the hope of experiencing a straighter and sleeker do? Well, my friends, I did it. I made that appointment and last week it happened. After 90 minutes and some close encounters with a 450 degree flat iron, my dream was completed. It looks pretty good too! I've washed my hair a few times already and still it remains smooth and silky. It is supposed to last for 3 months so I will report back with the longer-term results. We'll see . . . here is the before and after.
Before [super wavy, sometimes out-of-control, frizzy in humidity and generally unkempt]:
After:
Oh, Canada
Over the weekend, Mr. Oz and I had the distinct pleasure to spend several days with my family at a cabin on Lake of the Woods in Ontario, Canada. Beautiful weather. Amazingly tranquil location far, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world. We did not have cell coverage or internet service, no t.v. and few distractions other than fishing, sunning, playing games and enjoying some fine adult beverages. It was great to forcefully unplug. Of course, there were a lot of laughs all around as well as some tasty food including a fish fry consisting of fish caught by my family the previous day! The abundance of wildlife is also quite incredible. We saw a bald eagle and the elusive Whistle Pig. That's right. Whistle Pig. Look it up. It's a real animal.
My sister and her husband were excellent hosts. They rolled out the red carpet treatment for us despite all of the work it must have taken to prepare and clean up afterward. Thanks Scribble and Mr. Scribble! Thank you Canada and your crazy socialist medicine, maple leaves and strange obsession with the Queen. It was awesome, eh.
Jon Stewart & The Daily Show Rips on the Government
This speaks for itself. So hilarious and yet so provokingly truthful. Someone recently told me that in a nationwide poll, Jon Stewart was named the most trusted person in the media. I tend to agree with this, but also am filled with sadness that a satirist and comedian is who we have to go to for an accurate reporting of our news. Is it wrong to believe that our leaders should stand on their principles and move forward with the things they promised? Or, do we relegate this to the stuff of pure naivety and misguided hope? When do we stop allowing ourselves to be pandered to and duped and, instead, insist on follow through and "change we can believe in?" While many things in this world are nuanced shades of gray, integrity is not one of them. Either you have it or you don't. I, for one, am still hopeful that these promises will be kept. I believe in you, Mr. President. Do you believe in us?
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
"Besties of Last Week" Award -- 6.13.10 Edition
Introducing a brand stinkin new feature, blogettes: my "Besties of the Week" award! This award goes out to the someones or somethings that, by their mere presence and introduction into my life, have come to my rescue, made me smile, delighted my soul or otherwise brought me resplendent joy at some point during the week. It is very simple. No further criteria has been, or will be, put in place for this award. It remains purely subjective and will be handed out at my discretion. No bribes will be accepted, but occasionally I may give special consideration to nominations (and those who are extra special nice to me, you dig?! :)
The "Besties of Last Week" go to (insert drum roll here):
1) Ozy the Wonder Pup For his naughty antics and oh so cutey cuteness. Yesterday he was particularly adorable. Here he fell between the couch cushions while napping, but he is too tired to care. Love him!
2) The double-play -- Sudafed Severe Cold Formula & Advil PM
When sickness hit me hard last week, these bad boys come through and helped to relieve my sinus pressure, congestion and helped me sleep. I believe I've found the perfect medication cocktail and, thankfully, I'm starting to feel like myself again. Summer colds be GONE! There is no room in the inn for you. BTW, I prefer the non-ephedra variety as I don't like the jittery feeling that often accompanies said product.
3) Season 3 of the Fox TV hit thriller, 24, starring the one and only Kiefer Sutherland
This may appear old and dated. I realize Season 3 of 24 originally aired back in, oh say, 2003-04. Ok. But, I've been watching the back catalog of episodes and am completely loving it! Jack Bauer is brilliant. He's tough on crime, defies bureaucracy, believes in outcome over process, remains loyal to those who go the extra mile for him, takes matters into his own hands and KICKS BUTT. The dude doesn't eat or sleep. In a 24 hour period he can survive plane crashes, track and kill terrorists, isolate a killer virus, kick a heroin addiction and prop up the bloated federal government in all its glorious inefficiencies. Man. Now that I think about it, the only difference between Jack Bauer and me at work is he packs heat and I do not. Just kidding.
I do pack heat.
Bygones.
It seems ironic that Fox television, well known to be a hot bed of right wing nut jobbery, produced and aired this show. There are so many corrupt government officials to be exposed and clearly the whole intricate web of agencies and support personnel are inept, Bauer standing out as the one exception. But, in the end, Jack always saves the day. He's a one man Patriot Act. I'm already onto Season 4! Yay!
So, there you have it. My list of Last Week's Besties. Who knows what, or who, will make the cut next week. Hmmmmmm . . . Nominations anyone?
The "Besties of Last Week" go to (insert drum roll here):
1) Ozy the Wonder Pup For his naughty antics and oh so cutey cuteness. Yesterday he was particularly adorable. Here he fell between the couch cushions while napping, but he is too tired to care. Love him!
2) The double-play -- Sudafed Severe Cold Formula & Advil PM
When sickness hit me hard last week, these bad boys come through and helped to relieve my sinus pressure, congestion and helped me sleep. I believe I've found the perfect medication cocktail and, thankfully, I'm starting to feel like myself again. Summer colds be GONE! There is no room in the inn for you. BTW, I prefer the non-ephedra variety as I don't like the jittery feeling that often accompanies said product. 3) Season 3 of the Fox TV hit thriller, 24, starring the one and only Kiefer Sutherland
This may appear old and dated. I realize Season 3 of 24 originally aired back in, oh say, 2003-04. Ok. But, I've been watching the back catalog of episodes and am completely loving it! Jack Bauer is brilliant. He's tough on crime, defies bureaucracy, believes in outcome over process, remains loyal to those who go the extra mile for him, takes matters into his own hands and KICKS BUTT. The dude doesn't eat or sleep. In a 24 hour period he can survive plane crashes, track and kill terrorists, isolate a killer virus, kick a heroin addiction and prop up the bloated federal government in all its glorious inefficiencies. Man. Now that I think about it, the only difference between Jack Bauer and me at work is he packs heat and I do not. Just kidding.
I do pack heat.
Bygones.
It seems ironic that Fox television, well known to be a hot bed of right wing nut jobbery, produced and aired this show. There are so many corrupt government officials to be exposed and clearly the whole intricate web of agencies and support personnel are inept, Bauer standing out as the one exception. But, in the end, Jack always saves the day. He's a one man Patriot Act. I'm already onto Season 4! Yay!
So, there you have it. My list of Last Week's Besties. Who knows what, or who, will make the cut next week. Hmmmmmm . . . Nominations anyone?
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Goats And Friendship
Spent some time visiting with an old friend this weekend. She and I went to high school together and, over the years, had been in contact intermittently. Back in the day, we were the best of pals and spent many a summer's day riding our bikes with banana seats around the quiet streets of our small North Dakota home town (*population 955 counting cats and dogs), swimming in the local pool and just being kids. I would venture to say, she ranks as the friend I've known the longest. Funny, how that goes. You share your childhood memories and adolescent dreams with someone; they know your secrets and you know theirs. They've got the dirt on you. You remember them when . . . the antics and tribulations of misguided youth. Ahhhh. Then, you grow up. You go to college, get jobs, lose touch. Life goes on, I suppose. But, sometimes you get second chances to see your childhood friend and recall fondly how it once was. You laugh. Hopefully, neither one of you has changed so much that you've forgotten who you were as friends together. It's a wonderful thing to pick up that kind of friendship. It might never be the same relationship, but it still feels nice to appreciate the people you have become.
I experienced this. My friend, let's call her Jane**, is a mom to three adorable kids. She is married and lives about 40 miles from me on her very own hobby farm. She's into antiques and growing her own vegetables. Jane is pretty darn cool. She has goats and chickens, apple trees and makes a killer pasta salad.
**name changed to protect the innocent goats.
See Jane's goats:
See Jane's chickens:
Man, it was good to see Jane. Period.
Friendship comes to us and we choose what to do with it. Do we forget it? Do we nurture it? Do we take it for granted? Do we embrace it? I'd like to be the type of person who cherishes it and relishes the amazingly, unique qualities that make my friends special.
Hey, if you are reading this right now, you are probably my friend. Thanks. You may not have goats, but you are still pretty great. :)
I experienced this. My friend, let's call her Jane**, is a mom to three adorable kids. She is married and lives about 40 miles from me on her very own hobby farm. She's into antiques and growing her own vegetables. Jane is pretty darn cool. She has goats and chickens, apple trees and makes a killer pasta salad.
**name changed to protect the innocent goats.
See Jane's goats:
See Jane's chickens:
Man, it was good to see Jane. Period.
Friendship comes to us and we choose what to do with it. Do we forget it? Do we nurture it? Do we take it for granted? Do we embrace it? I'd like to be the type of person who cherishes it and relishes the amazingly, unique qualities that make my friends special.
Hey, if you are reading this right now, you are probably my friend. Thanks. You may not have goats, but you are still pretty great. :)
Friday, June 11, 2010
Should I Get A Brazilian?
I'm not talking about hiring a South American pool boy for the summer. Sorry.
This one goes out to the ladies . . . have you heard of the latest hair craze, the Brazilian Blowout? This technique is not to be confused with a Brazilian bikini wax. That is a whole other hair situation. I'm talking about the hair on the top of the head.
Brazilian Blowout
I first encountered the Blowout when I met a friend of mine for dinner a few weeks ago. Her hair looked amazing -- shiny, smooth and very healthy. When I complimented her on her lovely locks, she immediately told me about this treatment she had done a few weeks earlier. Apparently, the Blowout is all the rage. A chemical free, protein process that coats the follicle and removes frizz. I did some research and spoke to a few stylists to hear more about it. What I've heard has me intrigued. From all reports, the treatment works well and lasts for several months. Now, I have naturally curly hair that is prone to wild frizzy badness from time to time. Many annoying minutes are spent each day trying to tame the rat's nest I call my hair. I long for mornings where I don't have to spend time brushing and blow drying my hair straight or taking a hot flat iron to it just to get rid of all the fly-aways. Ugh.
Although it is a little on the spendy side, I think I might have to give the Brazilian Blowout a whirl. Whadd 'ya think? If it's good enough for Nicole Richie, it's good enough for me.
This one goes out to the ladies . . . have you heard of the latest hair craze, the Brazilian Blowout? This technique is not to be confused with a Brazilian bikini wax. That is a whole other hair situation. I'm talking about the hair on the top of the head.
Brazilian Blowout
I first encountered the Blowout when I met a friend of mine for dinner a few weeks ago. Her hair looked amazing -- shiny, smooth and very healthy. When I complimented her on her lovely locks, she immediately told me about this treatment she had done a few weeks earlier. Apparently, the Blowout is all the rage. A chemical free, protein process that coats the follicle and removes frizz. I did some research and spoke to a few stylists to hear more about it. What I've heard has me intrigued. From all reports, the treatment works well and lasts for several months. Now, I have naturally curly hair that is prone to wild frizzy badness from time to time. Many annoying minutes are spent each day trying to tame the rat's nest I call my hair. I long for mornings where I don't have to spend time brushing and blow drying my hair straight or taking a hot flat iron to it just to get rid of all the fly-aways. Ugh.
Although it is a little on the spendy side, I think I might have to give the Brazilian Blowout a whirl. Whadd 'ya think? If it's good enough for Nicole Richie, it's good enough for me.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Northshore Images
Mr. Oz and I celebrated our 2 year anniversary by taking a trip to the Lake Superior's North Shore. The weather was somewhat cold and rainy during our 4 day visit, but we still had a wonderful time exploring and kicking back. Covepoint Lodge in Beaver Bay, MN proved to be the perfect place for our getaway. Quaint and quiet, the lodge offered us a chance to relax in-between hikes, road trips to nearby towns, dining out and shopping. I'm always impressed by the pristine shoreline and abundance of greenery here. It feels much more like a seaside resort than a spot by a lake, so when you can't get to the ocean, this is a fantastic alternative.
I took a lot of photos of the local scenery.
Patio overlooking the lake at Covepoint Lodge
Love these deck chairs!
The coast line near Grand Marais, MN
Mr. Oz checking out the park rules at Judge C.R. Magney State Park
On the trail toward Devil's Kettle Falls
The Falls!
I took a lot of photos of the local scenery.
Patio overlooking the lake at Covepoint Lodge
Love these deck chairs!
The coast line near Grand Marais, MN
Mr. Oz checking out the park rules at Judge C.R. Magney State Park
On the trail toward Devil's Kettle Falls
The Falls!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Where Are The Iced Tea Pioneers?
A couple of things to share today with you my dearest blog-heads:
I try not to comment too much on the weather. It just seems far too pedestrian and cliche (translation = lame) to do so. Oh sure, I offer up the occasional post about the change of seasons or the frozen tundra which caused me to slip, fall and break precious bones. But a rampant diatribe on weather just isn't my usual thang. My usual attitude toward weather is one of general disregard. It's always there. It changes. It comes and goes. I try to be prepared for things like rainstorms and blizzards, but beyond that I have called a truce with weather.
An exception must be made today as the thermometer mercury hit a high of 98 degrees in the upper Midwest. It is hot and oh so humid around these parts. We are talking typical August weather in late May. What gives? I got the air conditioning fired up and house sealed up tighter than the sutures of Pamela Anderson's latest breast augmentation (Pam, if you are reading this, take no offense). What really troubles me about this unusual turn of weather is how quickly it moved from "so cold I can't take it" to "so hot I can't stand it." I crave balance. I desire not breaking out into an ugly sweaty mess as I walk into work and start my day. I want an end to all things sweatness related. Mother Nature, please consider keeping us at a temperate 76 degrees with sunshine and partial cloud cover and a gentle breeze thankyouverymuch.
Which brings me to my next topic. Iced Tea.
Love it. Do you love it? Huh? Do you? Do you?
I think iced tea, and tea in general, screams ritual so it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that people have definite opinions about when, how and where they drink their tea. You can point to the East India company and likely thank those dirty, colonizing Brits for helping us see the value and enjoyment tea brings. The U.S. South certainly deserves some of the credit for carrying on the tea tradition albeit iced cold and refreshing. Now, some only drink tea in the summer. I don't trust these people. Their ability to so thoroughly compartmentalize their beverages frightens me greatly. I bet these people also alphabetize their DVDs and color code their sock drawer. I hope none of my blog-heads fall into this category. If so, please take no offense. You are lovely and wonderful and surely there is a special place in heaven for you and your kind.
For me, tea is a year round thing. Mr. Oz renewed my love of tea by making it a staple in our home. He has been known to whip up pitchers of the stuff and likes to add his own twists like pomegranate juice or berries. I say we need more versatile beverages like coffee and tea. You just don't hear about people grinding up some bean or plucking some leaves and steeping it in liquid to create a new beverage. This is ingenuity and creativity at its most basic and its most profound. I mean who does that? Imagine the trials before they got to the tea we know today? Imagine how much bitter, nasty, unconsumable, vial crap folks had to endure and, yet, they had a vision to carry on and persevere. Incredible.
I don't think we have that type of fortitude anymore. If it's out there, it's certainly not being recognized and touted as it should. We need more tea pioneers. We need more crazy people who steep things in boiling water and drink it down with gusto. There is a life metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm just too damn hot to figure it all out and wrap it a nice neat bow. Viva La Tea!
And, I bet you thought I was going to start in on the Teabag Movement, eh? Fooled ya.
I try not to comment too much on the weather. It just seems far too pedestrian and cliche (translation = lame) to do so. Oh sure, I offer up the occasional post about the change of seasons or the frozen tundra which caused me to slip, fall and break precious bones. But a rampant diatribe on weather just isn't my usual thang. My usual attitude toward weather is one of general disregard. It's always there. It changes. It comes and goes. I try to be prepared for things like rainstorms and blizzards, but beyond that I have called a truce with weather.
An exception must be made today as the thermometer mercury hit a high of 98 degrees in the upper Midwest. It is hot and oh so humid around these parts. We are talking typical August weather in late May. What gives? I got the air conditioning fired up and house sealed up tighter than the sutures of Pamela Anderson's latest breast augmentation (Pam, if you are reading this, take no offense). What really troubles me about this unusual turn of weather is how quickly it moved from "so cold I can't take it" to "so hot I can't stand it." I crave balance. I desire not breaking out into an ugly sweaty mess as I walk into work and start my day. I want an end to all things sweatness related. Mother Nature, please consider keeping us at a temperate 76 degrees with sunshine and partial cloud cover and a gentle breeze thankyouverymuch.
Which brings me to my next topic. Iced Tea.
Love it. Do you love it? Huh? Do you? Do you?
I think iced tea, and tea in general, screams ritual so it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that people have definite opinions about when, how and where they drink their tea. You can point to the East India company and likely thank those dirty, colonizing Brits for helping us see the value and enjoyment tea brings. The U.S. South certainly deserves some of the credit for carrying on the tea tradition albeit iced cold and refreshing. Now, some only drink tea in the summer. I don't trust these people. Their ability to so thoroughly compartmentalize their beverages frightens me greatly. I bet these people also alphabetize their DVDs and color code their sock drawer. I hope none of my blog-heads fall into this category. If so, please take no offense. You are lovely and wonderful and surely there is a special place in heaven for you and your kind.
For me, tea is a year round thing. Mr. Oz renewed my love of tea by making it a staple in our home. He has been known to whip up pitchers of the stuff and likes to add his own twists like pomegranate juice or berries. I say we need more versatile beverages like coffee and tea. You just don't hear about people grinding up some bean or plucking some leaves and steeping it in liquid to create a new beverage. This is ingenuity and creativity at its most basic and its most profound. I mean who does that? Imagine the trials before they got to the tea we know today? Imagine how much bitter, nasty, unconsumable, vial crap folks had to endure and, yet, they had a vision to carry on and persevere. Incredible.
I don't think we have that type of fortitude anymore. If it's out there, it's certainly not being recognized and touted as it should. We need more tea pioneers. We need more crazy people who steep things in boiling water and drink it down with gusto. There is a life metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm just too damn hot to figure it all out and wrap it a nice neat bow. Viva La Tea!
And, I bet you thought I was going to start in on the Teabag Movement, eh? Fooled ya.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Robert Frost is dead wrong.
This is Abysmal...and lately, well, I have been thinking that Robert Frost has it all wrong in Mending Wall.
There is something splendid about a wall.
Yes, yes, Robert (or shall I call you Bobby?) you are all apple orchard and your neighbor is all pine so you don't have any problems because trees don't move from one home to the other in the night. I GET THAT, believe me.
But Bobby....let me ask you this...how would you feel about a wall if your neighbor had say...about half a dozen kids and say....three dogs. How would you feel about a wall, Bobby, if you had to clean dog shit from your garden, your lawn furniture, and the side of your grill? How would you feel about a wall after finding chew toys in your rose bushes and dirty diapers (drug over by the dogs, no doubt) at the foot of your back porch steps? And the constant barking....Bobby, how would you feel about that?
How would you feel, Bobby, upon entering your back yard only to see the children scatter from your woods and smell the distinct odor of burning leaves? How would you feel about a wall if you found chips in your new siding from bb gun pellets? What about those tracks in your garden, the early morning dew brush of fur on your green beans? What about the bicycle track from one corner of your yard to the next? Surely, Bobby, a wall could prevent that?
And then, dear Bobby, how would you feel if you discovered that the neighbor's kids broke into another neighbor's house in the night and stole all of his beer from his garage? How would you feel about a wall if you discovered that those same kids got drunk and puked all over the alley next to where you planted your strawberries? Would you then, dear Bobby, desire a wall...a great big fence with glorious ivy or clematis clinging to it?
There is something that loves a wall, Bobby - ME.
There is something splendid about a wall.
Yes, yes, Robert (or shall I call you Bobby?) you are all apple orchard and your neighbor is all pine so you don't have any problems because trees don't move from one home to the other in the night. I GET THAT, believe me.
But Bobby....let me ask you this...how would you feel about a wall if your neighbor had say...about half a dozen kids and say....three dogs. How would you feel about a wall, Bobby, if you had to clean dog shit from your garden, your lawn furniture, and the side of your grill? How would you feel about a wall after finding chew toys in your rose bushes and dirty diapers (drug over by the dogs, no doubt) at the foot of your back porch steps? And the constant barking....Bobby, how would you feel about that?
How would you feel, Bobby, upon entering your back yard only to see the children scatter from your woods and smell the distinct odor of burning leaves? How would you feel about a wall if you found chips in your new siding from bb gun pellets? What about those tracks in your garden, the early morning dew brush of fur on your green beans? What about the bicycle track from one corner of your yard to the next? Surely, Bobby, a wall could prevent that?
And then, dear Bobby, how would you feel if you discovered that the neighbor's kids broke into another neighbor's house in the night and stole all of his beer from his garage? How would you feel about a wall if you discovered that those same kids got drunk and puked all over the alley next to where you planted your strawberries? Would you then, dear Bobby, desire a wall...a great big fence with glorious ivy or clematis clinging to it?
There is something that loves a wall, Bobby - ME.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Goodbye To My Spencer Bob
It is with a heavy heart that I type this post. Last week, after a 4 year struggle with random seizure attacks and painful arthritis, my kitty cat Spencer left us. It was very difficult to let him go, but as they say "it was for the best." Don't really quite understand what that means exactly, but think it has something to do with hoping he is pain-free and no longer plagued with sickness.
Spencer "Bob" was a wonderful cat companion. He came into my life when he was just a baby and I had first ventured out on my own after college. My big move as an independent, bread-winning adult and I found myself virtually all alone in a city I did not know. Back then, I was living in a crappy 1 bedroom apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, just barely making enough money to pay my rent, put gas in my car and buy groceries. Loneliness laid on my pillow like an unwelcome house guest. I needed a friend. I needed something to take care of and watch over and come home to at the end of each tough day. Spencer and I found each other. He was the handsomest little boy and I loved him dearly.
I will keep with me so many fond memories. When he was just a little guy, he loved to sneak into the bathtub and drink from the faucet. You see I had a constant drippy tap. Spencer would enter and a few minutes later emerge with a wet slick on top of his head, utterly pleased with himself. Like all cats, he enjoyed getting into boxes, playing with paper and general mischief. But, he never got into too much trouble. For many years, he was my shadow. Content to curl up in my lap or lie next to me, he would signal bedtime by bounding into the blankets and then would proceed to wait for me to join him. He loved to cuddle and would often scratch at the covers until I lifted them up to let him underneath. There he would find a warm spot and sleep away. Roommates would come and go, but Spence remained, ever loving and always near.
One sunny summer morning, I couldn't find Spence. After looking high and low, I noticed the screen on my second story living room window was missing. Peering out and down, I spotted my cat lying on the grass below. About 4 feet from him was the missing screen. My mind instantly went to replay a scene where my cat road the screen down 2 stories not unlike a surfboarder hanging ten on the ocean waves. Scolding him from up above, I yelled for him to "stay put" and ran to make sure he was o.k. Spence just looked at me with that cute, furry face and big eyes as if to say "what are you getting all upset about? I just wanted to get out for a while." He was fine if not a bit shell shocked.
In 2006, Spencer suffered a grand mal seizure. I rushed him to the emergency vet where they were able to stabilize him. Countless tests and medications, I.V.'s and trips back and forth to specialists . . . feeding tubes, online research, second opinions and more tests . . . through it all I never found out what caused the illness or why it clung to Spencer so strongly. There were several months where it looked like he might lose his battle. But, he hung on. We hung on. I had my buddy back, but he was never really the same as he once had been. The medications made him jittery, non-social and somewhat lethargic. He could no longer do the things and enjoy the life he previously had. Nonetheless, Spence and I had our time together and I continued to love him the best I could.
The past years saw many changes. We added some new faces into our tribe. Mr. Oz and his feline vixen, Sophie. Most recently Ozy the wonderpup has joined the clan. Through it all, Spencer remained a tough and constant presence. He stood guard and in his eyes I could, from time to time, see a flicker of the cat he once was. As time marched on, these times became fewer and further between. He moved less and grimaced more. Although he still loved to eat, he no longer wanted to leave his small room where I tried to keep him sequestered from the chaos of life and the mauling puppy.
As sad as it was for me to say good-bye, it was even harder to see him lose his zest for life. He had become a shell of himself and I couldn't allow it any longer. The burden was lifted and I made the decision to give him peace and dignity, to release him from his sadness. I stayed with him at the end and my eyes were the last eyes he saw as he drifted away. This gives me comfort. I hope he knew how much he was cherished and loved. I hope he knew how much he meant to me and how he made my life a better one, particularly in those early, lonely and trying years when it was just he and I in our grungy apartment.
Fittingly, the days following Spencer's passing were gloomy and filled with rain. I take solace in this as it seemed nature was mirroring my sadness and weeping a little bit along with me.
For those of you who love animals and have pets, you'll understand that they become a part of the family . . . an extension of unconditional love and a connection to the lifeforce of the universe that surrounds us. They are sweet and guileless, innocent and reliant upon you for their every need. They give us so much but it is our privilege to care and love them. It makes us less selfish, more attuned to others, more giving and infinitely happier. For this I am grateful. It was an honor to be Spencer's mommy. I will miss him. Always.
For those of you who never had a cat or dog or aren't big animal lovers, I hope someday you will know the joy pets can bring into your life. They truly are wonderful and good for the soul.
Good-bye Spency, my handsome boy, my furry baby. There will never be another cat like you in this world. May you rest in peace. Always.
Spencer "Bob" was a wonderful cat companion. He came into my life when he was just a baby and I had first ventured out on my own after college. My big move as an independent, bread-winning adult and I found myself virtually all alone in a city I did not know. Back then, I was living in a crappy 1 bedroom apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, just barely making enough money to pay my rent, put gas in my car and buy groceries. Loneliness laid on my pillow like an unwelcome house guest. I needed a friend. I needed something to take care of and watch over and come home to at the end of each tough day. Spencer and I found each other. He was the handsomest little boy and I loved him dearly.
I will keep with me so many fond memories. When he was just a little guy, he loved to sneak into the bathtub and drink from the faucet. You see I had a constant drippy tap. Spencer would enter and a few minutes later emerge with a wet slick on top of his head, utterly pleased with himself. Like all cats, he enjoyed getting into boxes, playing with paper and general mischief. But, he never got into too much trouble. For many years, he was my shadow. Content to curl up in my lap or lie next to me, he would signal bedtime by bounding into the blankets and then would proceed to wait for me to join him. He loved to cuddle and would often scratch at the covers until I lifted them up to let him underneath. There he would find a warm spot and sleep away. Roommates would come and go, but Spence remained, ever loving and always near.
One sunny summer morning, I couldn't find Spence. After looking high and low, I noticed the screen on my second story living room window was missing. Peering out and down, I spotted my cat lying on the grass below. About 4 feet from him was the missing screen. My mind instantly went to replay a scene where my cat road the screen down 2 stories not unlike a surfboarder hanging ten on the ocean waves. Scolding him from up above, I yelled for him to "stay put" and ran to make sure he was o.k. Spence just looked at me with that cute, furry face and big eyes as if to say "what are you getting all upset about? I just wanted to get out for a while." He was fine if not a bit shell shocked.
In 2006, Spencer suffered a grand mal seizure. I rushed him to the emergency vet where they were able to stabilize him. Countless tests and medications, I.V.'s and trips back and forth to specialists . . . feeding tubes, online research, second opinions and more tests . . . through it all I never found out what caused the illness or why it clung to Spencer so strongly. There were several months where it looked like he might lose his battle. But, he hung on. We hung on. I had my buddy back, but he was never really the same as he once had been. The medications made him jittery, non-social and somewhat lethargic. He could no longer do the things and enjoy the life he previously had. Nonetheless, Spence and I had our time together and I continued to love him the best I could.
The past years saw many changes. We added some new faces into our tribe. Mr. Oz and his feline vixen, Sophie. Most recently Ozy the wonderpup has joined the clan. Through it all, Spencer remained a tough and constant presence. He stood guard and in his eyes I could, from time to time, see a flicker of the cat he once was. As time marched on, these times became fewer and further between. He moved less and grimaced more. Although he still loved to eat, he no longer wanted to leave his small room where I tried to keep him sequestered from the chaos of life and the mauling puppy.
As sad as it was for me to say good-bye, it was even harder to see him lose his zest for life. He had become a shell of himself and I couldn't allow it any longer. The burden was lifted and I made the decision to give him peace and dignity, to release him from his sadness. I stayed with him at the end and my eyes were the last eyes he saw as he drifted away. This gives me comfort. I hope he knew how much he was cherished and loved. I hope he knew how much he meant to me and how he made my life a better one, particularly in those early, lonely and trying years when it was just he and I in our grungy apartment.
Fittingly, the days following Spencer's passing were gloomy and filled with rain. I take solace in this as it seemed nature was mirroring my sadness and weeping a little bit along with me.
For those of you who love animals and have pets, you'll understand that they become a part of the family . . . an extension of unconditional love and a connection to the lifeforce of the universe that surrounds us. They are sweet and guileless, innocent and reliant upon you for their every need. They give us so much but it is our privilege to care and love them. It makes us less selfish, more attuned to others, more giving and infinitely happier. For this I am grateful. It was an honor to be Spencer's mommy. I will miss him. Always.
For those of you who never had a cat or dog or aren't big animal lovers, I hope someday you will know the joy pets can bring into your life. They truly are wonderful and good for the soul.
Good-bye Spency, my handsome boy, my furry baby. There will never be another cat like you in this world. May you rest in peace. Always.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
iPad Musings
April 3, 2010. A day that will go down in geekdom infamy. This is the day that Apple released the long awaited iPad. My husband, known in some circles as Apple fan boy, was among the first purchasers of this nifty toy. He ordered it online and eagerly awaited its arrival via FedEx. This day rivaled Christmas morning as Mr. Oz's level of anticipation and excitement reminded me of young children waking up at 5am to find presents from Santa under the tree.
It is now April 17 and I think he's pretty much been glued to his iPad ever since. I feel a little bit like a woman scorned and have come to understand how significant others must feel when his or her spouse cheats. Perhaps it is less painful when the object of your partner's affection is made of silicone and not flesh and blood? Is an A4 processor better than a heart?
But, what is up with the name? iPad. Clearly there were no women on the development team. It conjures up commercials for feminine care products and sanitary napkins for those heavy data flow days. Surely, there could have been a better name choice out there. Was iTab already taken? Now, I must admit I've gone for test drive on the iPad and it is a fun little gadget. Lately, I've taken on the role of semi-early adopter, so will, undoubtedly, get one at some point. Being the informed consumer that I like to think I am, I did some digging to see what made Mr. Oz fall so head-over-heels, deeply in love. Here is what he said:
Q: What is your favorite thing about the iPad?
It's sheer utility and all the things I can do with it. Versatility. I can surf, read a book, watch a movie, listen to music, play games and I can do all of it instantaneously. The battery lasts all day so I don't have to keep it plugged it. I can be completely untethered. There is really no end to the possibilities.
Q: How is this different than a laptop?
Well, it's lighter -- 1 lb. -- and it's much smaller so I can carry it with me. And, there is a new Macbook that has 10 hours of battery life, but up until the iPad there was really nothing with as long of a battery life for what it can do. Netbooks can't even approach it. And, it's 'touch' so no mouse needed.
Q: Any concerns in being one of the first purchasers?
When I read the reviews, they were all glowing. That reassured me. Any concerns I had with being a beta-tester, went away completely on day 1. It blew me away. I didn't have any lag or crashes. It was great.
Q: What do you wish the iPad did that it doesn't currently offer?
I wish it used flash because a lot of sites use flash. The iPad doesn't display flash. I believe Steve Jobs has a problem with how flash uses processor power and burns the battery down. It doesn't work well with the iPad software. Probably even more so, I wish that sites, in general, didn't rely on flash so much.
A card reader slot would also be a nice add.
Q: Favorite apps?
The Kindle app is probably my favorite. Shout out to the Amazon.com folks. I can read a book on my Kindle, my iPhone and now my iPad and if I sync my devices, they will bookmark where I left off and I can pick it back up at the same point on any of these. Sketchbook Pro is also a fun one. It's cool to have a sketch pad at my fingertips. It has a lot of options.
Q: What advice do you have for anyone interested in getting an iPad?
Get one!
There you have it. Mr. Oz on his new favorite "gal."
I'm jealous of hardware and software. Have I officially entered the new millenia? Is this a sign of an impending apocolypse? Steve Jobs, what will you have for us next? I'm too scared to even think about it.
It is now April 17 and I think he's pretty much been glued to his iPad ever since. I feel a little bit like a woman scorned and have come to understand how significant others must feel when his or her spouse cheats. Perhaps it is less painful when the object of your partner's affection is made of silicone and not flesh and blood? Is an A4 processor better than a heart?
But, what is up with the name? iPad. Clearly there were no women on the development team. It conjures up commercials for feminine care products and sanitary napkins for those heavy data flow days. Surely, there could have been a better name choice out there. Was iTab already taken? Now, I must admit I've gone for test drive on the iPad and it is a fun little gadget. Lately, I've taken on the role of semi-early adopter, so will, undoubtedly, get one at some point. Being the informed consumer that I like to think I am, I did some digging to see what made Mr. Oz fall so head-over-heels, deeply in love. Here is what he said:
Q: What is your favorite thing about the iPad?
It's sheer utility and all the things I can do with it. Versatility. I can surf, read a book, watch a movie, listen to music, play games and I can do all of it instantaneously. The battery lasts all day so I don't have to keep it plugged it. I can be completely untethered. There is really no end to the possibilities.
Q: How is this different than a laptop?
Well, it's lighter -- 1 lb. -- and it's much smaller so I can carry it with me. And, there is a new Macbook that has 10 hours of battery life, but up until the iPad there was really nothing with as long of a battery life for what it can do. Netbooks can't even approach it. And, it's 'touch' so no mouse needed.
Q: Any concerns in being one of the first purchasers?
When I read the reviews, they were all glowing. That reassured me. Any concerns I had with being a beta-tester, went away completely on day 1. It blew me away. I didn't have any lag or crashes. It was great.
Q: What do you wish the iPad did that it doesn't currently offer?
I wish it used flash because a lot of sites use flash. The iPad doesn't display flash. I believe Steve Jobs has a problem with how flash uses processor power and burns the battery down. It doesn't work well with the iPad software. Probably even more so, I wish that sites, in general, didn't rely on flash so much.
A card reader slot would also be a nice add.
Q: Favorite apps?
The Kindle app is probably my favorite. Shout out to the Amazon.com folks. I can read a book on my Kindle, my iPhone and now my iPad and if I sync my devices, they will bookmark where I left off and I can pick it back up at the same point on any of these. Sketchbook Pro is also a fun one. It's cool to have a sketch pad at my fingertips. It has a lot of options.
Q: What advice do you have for anyone interested in getting an iPad?
Get one!
There you have it. Mr. Oz on his new favorite "gal."
I'm jealous of hardware and software. Have I officially entered the new millenia? Is this a sign of an impending apocolypse? Steve Jobs, what will you have for us next? I'm too scared to even think about it.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Fundamentally, We Are Different
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the seemingly arbitrary rules that we have as a society and why these rules came about. One such "rule" is the 5-day work week. Who devised this little gem? When was it decided that a typical week should consist of five days of work and then 2 days of rest? Without doing a lick of research to delve into this further, I would hypothesize that some business owner or industry captain made this one up. Or, better yet, the robber baron, capitalist autocrat tyrant -- let's call him Mr. Moneybags -- really wanted his employees to work 24/7. He devised the first, second and third shifts as well. More than likely, Mr. Moneybags was also the one who came up with child labor AND unfair labor practices. It was only when some group of organized workers (or other justice wielding entity) picketed and demanded some rights that the work week shrunk from 7 days to 5 days. That was as far as Mr. Moneybags was going to go. Enough was enough.
So, now we are years beyond the scuttlebutt between Mr. Moneybags and his pesky striking workers. How far have we gotten in this amount of time? We still have the arbitrary five day work week. Why? You'd think in this day and age we would have moved beyond the simple structure of punching the clock. I suppose in some small ways we have evolved . . . ever slightly. I know there are books on this out there -- "The 4 Day Work Week" being one of these. I really like the concept of working a day less each week. What if we all rose up and demanded such a thing? What if the 4 day work week became the norm, the new standard? It only seems fair that we balance out the amount of time spent working with the amount of time we spend resting and playing.
This thought somehow made me think of the role of government in our lives. I made some comment on Facebook that we should petition our congressman to help legislate the 4 day work week. Although I was merely jesting, one of my friends replied that this was just one more thing we would rely on the government to fix for us. I have been pondering this thought ever since. And this, dear blog readers, is what I came up with: perhaps the fundamental difference between those who take a more liberal bent to politics -- call them democrats if you will -- and those who are more conservative (i.e. republicans), is not the disagreements about pro-life or pro-choice nor is it about raising taxes, spending on social programs or even public health care. Nope. At the core, the difference is this: those who take a more liberal stance do so because in their heart of hearts they hold a certain pessimism toward humanity and our ability to care for one another as we should. Left to our own devices, liberals believe we wouldn't necessarily fulfill our duty of helping one another out. Conservatives, on the other hand, seem to believe that, if left to our own devices, things would be o.k. Survival of the fittest if you will . . . let the marketplace dictate how/when we act, let private industry adjust itself to supply and demand. I trully think this is the core philosophical difference between the right and the left. When you look at it from both sides, there is some merit and truth to both views. Both are essentially flawed but well intentioned. One wants to see the best in humanity realized but doesn't think we can do it alone. The other wants to be left alone and hopes humanity can rise to the occasion and demonstrate it's best.
I believe that, in its ideal, the government is there to protect and care for its people. They are the watchdog to make sure that we all have the right to pursue our own happiness. And, perhaps more importantly, I believe that we as humans often lose sight of this when we are caught up in elements of power and financial gain. Sometimes, the government needs to step in and right the wrongs. Now this doesn't mean that they should meddle in every single thing. We don't have to have a law for everything and I'm certainly not advocating laws of morality or value-based legislation. No. Instead, I'm thinking about Mr. Moneybags and how he is all about making more money to fill his bags. He wouldn't want to jeopardize his future profits by, oh I don't know, putting in proper ventilation or heating in his factories so his workers can breathe clean air and not freeze to death. He also wouldn't want to put more costly safety measures into practice or give people an hour for lunch or time off when their kids are sick. Let's see . . . what else wouldn't Mr. Moneybags want to do?
I think the recent Wall Street failures and economic struggles have shown us that when government stops regulating our human compulsions toward greed and power, really REALLY bad things can happen. We can't fight our own human frailties. Perhaps the best we can do is try to curtail them by putting checks and controls in place for ourselves.
Government is far from perfect. FAR from perfect. Afterall, politicians are human too. But, wouldn't a 4 day work week make us all just a little bit happier? Maybe that is the cure all to everything . . . work less, play more.
So, now we are years beyond the scuttlebutt between Mr. Moneybags and his pesky striking workers. How far have we gotten in this amount of time? We still have the arbitrary five day work week. Why? You'd think in this day and age we would have moved beyond the simple structure of punching the clock. I suppose in some small ways we have evolved . . . ever slightly. I know there are books on this out there -- "The 4 Day Work Week" being one of these. I really like the concept of working a day less each week. What if we all rose up and demanded such a thing? What if the 4 day work week became the norm, the new standard? It only seems fair that we balance out the amount of time spent working with the amount of time we spend resting and playing.
This thought somehow made me think of the role of government in our lives. I made some comment on Facebook that we should petition our congressman to help legislate the 4 day work week. Although I was merely jesting, one of my friends replied that this was just one more thing we would rely on the government to fix for us. I have been pondering this thought ever since. And this, dear blog readers, is what I came up with: perhaps the fundamental difference between those who take a more liberal bent to politics -- call them democrats if you will -- and those who are more conservative (i.e. republicans), is not the disagreements about pro-life or pro-choice nor is it about raising taxes, spending on social programs or even public health care. Nope. At the core, the difference is this: those who take a more liberal stance do so because in their heart of hearts they hold a certain pessimism toward humanity and our ability to care for one another as we should. Left to our own devices, liberals believe we wouldn't necessarily fulfill our duty of helping one another out. Conservatives, on the other hand, seem to believe that, if left to our own devices, things would be o.k. Survival of the fittest if you will . . . let the marketplace dictate how/when we act, let private industry adjust itself to supply and demand. I trully think this is the core philosophical difference between the right and the left. When you look at it from both sides, there is some merit and truth to both views. Both are essentially flawed but well intentioned. One wants to see the best in humanity realized but doesn't think we can do it alone. The other wants to be left alone and hopes humanity can rise to the occasion and demonstrate it's best.
I believe that, in its ideal, the government is there to protect and care for its people. They are the watchdog to make sure that we all have the right to pursue our own happiness. And, perhaps more importantly, I believe that we as humans often lose sight of this when we are caught up in elements of power and financial gain. Sometimes, the government needs to step in and right the wrongs. Now this doesn't mean that they should meddle in every single thing. We don't have to have a law for everything and I'm certainly not advocating laws of morality or value-based legislation. No. Instead, I'm thinking about Mr. Moneybags and how he is all about making more money to fill his bags. He wouldn't want to jeopardize his future profits by, oh I don't know, putting in proper ventilation or heating in his factories so his workers can breathe clean air and not freeze to death. He also wouldn't want to put more costly safety measures into practice or give people an hour for lunch or time off when their kids are sick. Let's see . . . what else wouldn't Mr. Moneybags want to do?
I think the recent Wall Street failures and economic struggles have shown us that when government stops regulating our human compulsions toward greed and power, really REALLY bad things can happen. We can't fight our own human frailties. Perhaps the best we can do is try to curtail them by putting checks and controls in place for ourselves.
Government is far from perfect. FAR from perfect. Afterall, politicians are human too. But, wouldn't a 4 day work week make us all just a little bit happier? Maybe that is the cure all to everything . . . work less, play more.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Dear Oprah....
Dear Oprah,
This is Abysmal. I know that I haven't always been good to you. I know that in the past I said some terrible things, like how I was going to sue your magazine for plagerism and how I thought that you can't possibly "know anything for sure" - I know...I know...I have been critical. And I'm SORRY that I work too late and don't have time to watch every episode.....
But....
But....
I buy your magazine. I have even purchased items from your sponsors...from the "O" recommendations.....I have gone so far as to read books that you have told me to read.....I am a closet fan. And let's face it, you are a GAHZILLIONAIRE.
So. I need you to know. My Ipod has died. It has DIED, Oprah! I cannot lose weight without it. Could you contact your angel network or whoever else you have control over...like maybe even Bill Gates... and get me a new one?
Love, Abysmal.
P.S. Don't make me go to Ellen with this issue.
This is Abysmal. I know that I haven't always been good to you. I know that in the past I said some terrible things, like how I was going to sue your magazine for plagerism and how I thought that you can't possibly "know anything for sure" - I know...I know...I have been critical. And I'm SORRY that I work too late and don't have time to watch every episode.....
But....
But....
I buy your magazine. I have even purchased items from your sponsors...from the "O" recommendations.....I have gone so far as to read books that you have told me to read.....I am a closet fan. And let's face it, you are a GAHZILLIONAIRE.
So. I need you to know. My Ipod has died. It has DIED, Oprah! I cannot lose weight without it. Could you contact your angel network or whoever else you have control over...like maybe even Bill Gates... and get me a new one?
Love, Abysmal.
P.S. Don't make me go to Ellen with this issue.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Google This
Decided to google my blog name tonight. That's My Best just happens to be the second hit when typed up as all one word with no punctuation. As I perused some of the other options, I found an interesting site filled with cartoons. Some of them were clever so thought I'd share.
This one reminded me of a post documenting Ozy's strange fascination with the litter box. Now I know why he is so enthralled. It gives him power! 
Couldn't agree more with this one. Seems, these days, we really have very little choice within our democratic system. We can choose lame option #1 or lamer option #2. The two party approach, despite all the vitriol and venom, pundits and pandering, masks a harsher reality of sameness, monotony and no true change. I, for one, was hoping for a change I could believe in, some big shake-ups and new thinking. Where is it? Although I believe the healthcare reform bill is a step in the right direction, it certainly didn't go far enough in curtailing the insurance companies greedy practices and leveling the playing field for everyone. When will we learn that capitalism and political power don't necessarily equate to justice, liberty and human kindness? Do we conform or cry out in muted protest? Sad. Sad. Sad.
And, on a completely unrelated note, Ozy turns 1 tomorrow. I probably need to get him a doggy cake, no? Happy Birthday cuddle pup!
This one reminded me of a post documenting Ozy's strange fascination with the litter box. Now I know why he is so enthralled. It gives him power! 
Couldn't agree more with this one. Seems, these days, we really have very little choice within our democratic system. We can choose lame option #1 or lamer option #2. The two party approach, despite all the vitriol and venom, pundits and pandering, masks a harsher reality of sameness, monotony and no true change. I, for one, was hoping for a change I could believe in, some big shake-ups and new thinking. Where is it? Although I believe the healthcare reform bill is a step in the right direction, it certainly didn't go far enough in curtailing the insurance companies greedy practices and leveling the playing field for everyone. When will we learn that capitalism and political power don't necessarily equate to justice, liberty and human kindness? Do we conform or cry out in muted protest? Sad. Sad. Sad.And, on a completely unrelated note, Ozy turns 1 tomorrow. I probably need to get him a doggy cake, no? Happy Birthday cuddle pup!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Welcome to the Zombie Den
Medical update: Just finished my full course of antibiotics and things are looking up. My congestion, wheezing and general malaise have all calmed down and now I only sound moderately like a cat purring when I breathe. While I'm not ready to claim full victory over pneumonia, I feel as if I've turned the corner and got this infection on the run. Let's hope my re-visit next week confirms my amateur prognosis. I figure who needs years and years of medical school when you have watched as many House episodes as I have, right? Love that show. Love Hugh Laurie, but I digress.
When one is faced with the prospect of battling illness, the most immediate and logical step to take is celebration with cocktails and zombies -- not necessarily in that exact order. The best place, and perhaps only place, in Minnesota for said festivities is Donny Dirks Zombie Den in NE Mpls. This place used to be Stand Up Franks. No chairs or stools. People stood and drank their stiff drinks and they liked 'em that way, dammit. In the past year, the joint has been transformed into a hipster style palace to all things undead. The walls are covered in a smoky glass tile with the occasional zombie head sticking out for artistic effect. The dark scene stands punctuated with animal print carpet, flashy chandeliers and televisions playing re-runs of old (and not so old) zombie flicks. 28 Weeks Later happened to be on when we were there. The drink menu boasts such lovelies as The Dark and Stormy, a fine looking rum concoction, and the Voodoo Zombie. What is a Voodoo Zombie, you might ask? Well, according to our server "it is really a typical voodoo drink." What that means, I'm not really sure. It does have a lot of booze and an assortment of random fruit juices so I guess that is what voodoo drinks are all about.
It's a pretty cool place if you like to stare at zombie faces whilst you sip your libations. Who doesn't?
For a slightly different vibe, I would recommend La Belle Vie lounge or LBVL as the cool kids like to call it. I met my good friends Poodle and ALO there for an after work cocktail and man was it terrific. It feels very posh -- like upper West Side Manhattan townhome with a doorman kinda sophisticated. I was immediately taken with the interior and then I took a look at the drink menu. Their ubber mixologist, Johnny, laid down some delightful concoctions. My first was the Tangerine Sidecar. Yummy. Then I put myself in the capable hands of Johnny and asked for his recommendation. He poured up something called the Ides of Spring (I think that is what it was called) all mystifyingly good with some citrus and fresh ginger. Johnny, you had me at sidecar. If you are interested in reading more, check out this blog documenting the taste-by-taste trip through the LBVL drink menu. Funny!
I will certainly be visiting La Bell Vie again soon. It ranks as one of My Bests to be sure.
So, there you have it. My adventures in liquor are in no way an indication of a problem. I don't NEED to drink, I choose to drink. It's all medicinal really. Whatever the marvels of modern pharmacology don't kill, the bourbon and vodka, vermouth, cava and bitters are sure to take care of. That which does not kill me, only makes me stronger.
When one is faced with the prospect of battling illness, the most immediate and logical step to take is celebration with cocktails and zombies -- not necessarily in that exact order. The best place, and perhaps only place, in Minnesota for said festivities is Donny Dirks Zombie Den in NE Mpls. This place used to be Stand Up Franks. No chairs or stools. People stood and drank their stiff drinks and they liked 'em that way, dammit. In the past year, the joint has been transformed into a hipster style palace to all things undead. The walls are covered in a smoky glass tile with the occasional zombie head sticking out for artistic effect. The dark scene stands punctuated with animal print carpet, flashy chandeliers and televisions playing re-runs of old (and not so old) zombie flicks. 28 Weeks Later happened to be on when we were there. The drink menu boasts such lovelies as The Dark and Stormy, a fine looking rum concoction, and the Voodoo Zombie. What is a Voodoo Zombie, you might ask? Well, according to our server "it is really a typical voodoo drink." What that means, I'm not really sure. It does have a lot of booze and an assortment of random fruit juices so I guess that is what voodoo drinks are all about.
It's a pretty cool place if you like to stare at zombie faces whilst you sip your libations. Who doesn't?
For a slightly different vibe, I would recommend La Belle Vie lounge or LBVL as the cool kids like to call it. I met my good friends Poodle and ALO there for an after work cocktail and man was it terrific. It feels very posh -- like upper West Side Manhattan townhome with a doorman kinda sophisticated. I was immediately taken with the interior and then I took a look at the drink menu. Their ubber mixologist, Johnny, laid down some delightful concoctions. My first was the Tangerine Sidecar. Yummy. Then I put myself in the capable hands of Johnny and asked for his recommendation. He poured up something called the Ides of Spring (I think that is what it was called) all mystifyingly good with some citrus and fresh ginger. Johnny, you had me at sidecar. If you are interested in reading more, check out this blog documenting the taste-by-taste trip through the LBVL drink menu. Funny!
I will certainly be visiting La Bell Vie again soon. It ranks as one of My Bests to be sure.
So, there you have it. My adventures in liquor are in no way an indication of a problem. I don't NEED to drink, I choose to drink. It's all medicinal really. Whatever the marvels of modern pharmacology don't kill, the bourbon and vodka, vermouth, cava and bitters are sure to take care of. That which does not kill me, only makes me stronger.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Re-Birth of Scribble Coincides with Spring.
Abysmal Scribble is in DA HOUSE! What is up bloggettes? For those of you who aren't familiar with my work, I am a blogger and thus, you are the bloggettes. And since my blog's very sad demise in the summer of 08, apparently Sweet Lis has been missing my SCHPICE (imagine I'm saying it like Matthew McConaughey says it in A Time to Kill- speaking of spice.....whew, hottie. I don't care if he does have unusually short arms - look it up, everyone is buzzing about it. Bygones.)
I am known as Abysmal Scribble, as Dee, as Sister, as the Destroyer of Worlds (wait a minute....that last one doesn't apply to me.....but it should...mu ha ha ha ha ha) and I am here to entertain with my antics and maybe, if I can summon it, my wit.
Is it a coincidence that my re-birth coincides with Spring? I think not. Spring IS new beginnings.
It has, indeed, sprung upon us, ladies and gents. You know what that means? The smell of grilled meats in the air. Ice cold bevies in your hand. Tulips popping up. Your next door neighbor will be out washin' his car, showing off his alabaster calves beneath his plaid shorts. Dogs will be freely sniffin' each other's butts at the dog park. After a long hibernation, cankles will be making an appearance. Birds, returning from the south, will shit on your car as they come home - but that doesn't matter, because it is Spring and you can get a car wash. Baseball is here! (Which means hot dogs and beer and for some, thicker cankles.) Bicycles and golf balls and outdoor seating and windows rolled down with the wind rushing through your hair....
Can you smell it? Sniff.....ahhhhhh. Spring is here. This is what the Black Eyed Peas must have been thinking about when they wrote "Imma Be" - Touche, will.i.am. "Imma Be livin' that good life. Imma be livin' that good, good life."
I'm planning on getting' out there and causing some trouble so that I have some spice to add to Sweet Lis' blog and thus, your life, Bloggettes.
You are welcome, in advance.
I am known as Abysmal Scribble, as Dee, as Sister, as the Destroyer of Worlds (wait a minute....that last one doesn't apply to me.....but it should...mu ha ha ha ha ha) and I am here to entertain with my antics and maybe, if I can summon it, my wit.
Is it a coincidence that my re-birth coincides with Spring? I think not. Spring IS new beginnings.
It has, indeed, sprung upon us, ladies and gents. You know what that means? The smell of grilled meats in the air. Ice cold bevies in your hand. Tulips popping up. Your next door neighbor will be out washin' his car, showing off his alabaster calves beneath his plaid shorts. Dogs will be freely sniffin' each other's butts at the dog park. After a long hibernation, cankles will be making an appearance. Birds, returning from the south, will shit on your car as they come home - but that doesn't matter, because it is Spring and you can get a car wash. Baseball is here! (Which means hot dogs and beer and for some, thicker cankles.) Bicycles and golf balls and outdoor seating and windows rolled down with the wind rushing through your hair....
Can you smell it? Sniff.....ahhhhhh. Spring is here. This is what the Black Eyed Peas must have been thinking about when they wrote "Imma Be" - Touche, will.i.am. "Imma Be livin' that good life. Imma be livin' that good, good life."
I'm planning on getting' out there and causing some trouble so that I have some spice to add to Sweet Lis' blog and thus, your life, Bloggettes.
You are welcome, in advance.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
My Lungs Are Filled With Cotton Candy
I have pneumonia. Pneumonia looks like this:
These are not my lungs. These are stand-in lungs. Prop lungs, if you will. But, I had a chest x-ray today and I can honestly say that my lungs do look very similar to above image. Apparently, one should not have cotton in one's lungs. I have this horrible image of bacteria growing like an infiltrating vine or kudzu in the fabric of my air sacs, hooking nasty tentacles and taking root. Very disturbing.
I had a nebulizer treatment at Urgent Care this morning and now I am on all sorts of medication. Prednisone, which is a steroid, is going to help open up my collapsed airways. Levaquin is a hard core antibiotic to kick the kudzu right outta my lungs. According to many online reports, this drug has been known to cause many negative side effects. Upon prescribing it, the doctor warned me that it has been reported to cause tendon rupture in some patients, primarily the achilles tendon. OUCH! I'm really not looking for that to happen so will probably call my original doctor to get a second opinion on that one.
So, for those of you who want to keep track at home, Winter has dealt yet another punishing blow. She has laid the smack down on me yet again. In short, Winter is pissed.
In doing my research, I ran across these words of wisdom on how to cure pneumonia naturally. It made me laugh but then I started coughing so I stopped laughing.
I like how the first step is to never leave the house and have someone watch over you and you should go to the hospital and then at the very bottom it reads you should see a doctor if it gets worse. Wouldn't going to the hospital require you to see a doctor? Also, wouldn't it require you to leave the house?
Oh and I didn't change the spelling. This is how I found it.
I need to go now and drink fruit juices, soak my feet and eat cayenne pepper a.s.a.p.
These are not my lungs. These are stand-in lungs. Prop lungs, if you will. But, I had a chest x-ray today and I can honestly say that my lungs do look very similar to above image. Apparently, one should not have cotton in one's lungs. I have this horrible image of bacteria growing like an infiltrating vine or kudzu in the fabric of my air sacs, hooking nasty tentacles and taking root. Very disturbing.
I had a nebulizer treatment at Urgent Care this morning and now I am on all sorts of medication. Prednisone, which is a steroid, is going to help open up my collapsed airways. Levaquin is a hard core antibiotic to kick the kudzu right outta my lungs. According to many online reports, this drug has been known to cause many negative side effects. Upon prescribing it, the doctor warned me that it has been reported to cause tendon rupture in some patients, primarily the achilles tendon. OUCH! I'm really not looking for that to happen so will probably call my original doctor to get a second opinion on that one.
So, for those of you who want to keep track at home, Winter has dealt yet another punishing blow. She has laid the smack down on me yet again. In short, Winter is pissed.
In doing my research, I ran across these words of wisdom on how to cure pneumonia naturally. It made me laugh but then I started coughing so I stopped laughing.
Intro: If you have a fever, sore throat, a chough, chest pains, chills, aching muscles, and enlarged lymph nodes then you probably have pneumonia. Follow these steps to cure pneumonia naturally.
Step 1: To cure pueumonia, you should rest and never leave the house. Have someone watch over you to help take care of you. Pneumonia is very serious; you should probably go to the hospital.
Step 2: When you first get sick, consume a lot of fruit juices and then start consuming vegetable juices after a few days. This can help cure pneumonia naturally and prevent you from getting worse.
Step 3: Consume some cayenne to help break up the congestion.
Step 4: To cure pneumonia naturally, drink a lot of water and tea. Flush out your system with these healthy fluids. Goldenseal tea is probably the best option available to help cure pneumonia naturally.
Step 5: Eat a lot of fruits and veggies along with some fruit juice. Vitamin C is very important in getting better.
Step 6: Rest. Stay in bed and do not do a thing. Working, doing chores, and exercising should all be put on hold until you are 100 percent better.
Step 7: To cure pneumonia naturally, avoid milk, flour products, and sugar until the pneumonia is gone. These items can help increase the thickness of your phlegm and slow down healing.
Step 8: Use a humidifier to help moisten the air where you spend the most time.
Step 9: To cure pneumonia naturally, avoid alcohol and smoking. If someone in your house smokes, ask them to smoke outside until you are better.
Step 10: Keep your feet warm. Soak them in a foot bath to help pull blood away from the chest.
Tips: To cure pneumonia naturally, you should eat a healthy diet, drink plenty of fluids, rest, keep your feet warm, and consume a lot of vitamin C.
Warnings: If your pneumonia gets worse, you should see a doctor immediately.
I like how the first step is to never leave the house and have someone watch over you and you should go to the hospital and then at the very bottom it reads you should see a doctor if it gets worse. Wouldn't going to the hospital require you to see a doctor? Also, wouldn't it require you to leave the house?
Oh and I didn't change the spelling. This is how I found it.
I need to go now and drink fruit juices, soak my feet and eat cayenne pepper a.s.a.p.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Dining In
Tonight was a stay-at-home and eat-in night for the Oz's. We decided to try a new recipe -- Italian Sausage and Potato Soup -- which first hit my radar when my good buddy, Hollow Squirrel, posted about it on her blog. I bookmarked it and waited for the perfect time to give it a try. Reviewers on allrecipe.com likened this to the Zuppa Toscana soup available at the Olive Garden. A few embellishments, a little spicy kick and about 45 minutes later, viola, delicious and creamy soup! I would make this one again. Probably add some red pepper flakes to give it a bit more heat next time, but all in all, it was a satisying meal.
In a 4 quart saucepan over medium heat, saute the onions and the bacon for 10 minutes, or until onions are almost clear. Add the garlic and saute for one more minute. Add the chicken base OR bouillon, water and potatoes and bring to a simmer for 15 minutes. Add the kale, cream and reserved sausage, simmer for 5 more minutes and serve.
Took the opportunity to play with my camera a bit and document the cooking process.
Onions, bacon and garlic sauteing in a 4qt. saucepan.
Add cubed potatoes and chicken broth.
Dice the cooked sausage into 1/2 in. pieces and add to soup mixture.
Add spinach and 1/3 cup heavy cream.
Success!! Bon Appetit
Ingredients
- 1 pound Italian sausage (we used hot turkey sausage)
- 3/4 cup chopped onion
- 1 slice pancetta bacon, diced (our love of bacon urged us to add not 1, but 3, slices)
- 1 1/4 teaspoons garlic, minced
- 1 cube chicken bouillon (we used 16 oz of chicken broth and reduced water to 2 cups)
- 4 cups water
- 2 potatoes, cubed
- 2 cups kale, rinsed and julienned (substituted 3 cups of fresh spinach)
- 1/3 cup heavy cream
Directions
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C).
Place sausage links on a sheet pan and bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until done. Cut each link in half lengthwise, and then into 1/2 inch slices. Set aside for later.
In a 4 quart saucepan over medium heat, saute the onions and the bacon for 10 minutes, or until onions are almost clear. Add the garlic and saute for one more minute. Add the chicken base OR bouillon, water and potatoes and bring to a simmer for 15 minutes. Add the kale, cream and reserved sausage, simmer for 5 more minutes and serve.
Took the opportunity to play with my camera a bit and document the cooking process. 
Onions, bacon and garlic sauteing in a 4qt. saucepan.
Add cubed potatoes and chicken broth.
Dice the cooked sausage into 1/2 in. pieces and add to soup mixture.
Add spinach and 1/3 cup heavy cream.
Success!! Bon Appetit
Spongmonkeys!!!!
For some ungodly reason, I've had this jingle stuck in my brain for the last few weeks. I'm not sure how it came to be implanted or how I can release it. So, like any good friend, I am unleashing it on my many -- as of last count 2 -- blog readers.
In my search for more information to try and understand this insane commercial, I found this. Apparently these annoying creatures are known as spongmonkeys and, of course, originated in Great Britain. Those damn Brits! Why are they always filling our heads with nonsense like The Spice Girls and spongmonkeys?
Now I wonder if you would consider these spots "genius advertising" or not? I suppose one should look at the ROI Quiznos received as a result of airing the ads, but for sheer entertainment value, I'd probably rank it fairly high. Spongmonkeys . . . . you either love 'em or hate 'em, BUT will you buy your next lunch from an establishment that boasts levitating, shriveled rats as spokesvarmints? Errr, probably not.
Quiznos kinda sucks anyway. When is the last time anybody ate at a Quiznos? Seriously.
In my search for more information to try and understand this insane commercial, I found this. Apparently these annoying creatures are known as spongmonkeys and, of course, originated in Great Britain. Those damn Brits! Why are they always filling our heads with nonsense like The Spice Girls and spongmonkeys?
Now I wonder if you would consider these spots "genius advertising" or not? I suppose one should look at the ROI Quiznos received as a result of airing the ads, but for sheer entertainment value, I'd probably rank it fairly high. Spongmonkeys . . . . you either love 'em or hate 'em, BUT will you buy your next lunch from an establishment that boasts levitating, shriveled rats as spokesvarmints? Errr, probably not.
Quiznos kinda sucks anyway. When is the last time anybody ate at a Quiznos? Seriously.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Things The Snow Left Behind
Went for a walk tonight. It was a real walk. It involved sneakers and pavement and locking my door because I would be gone so long that prowlers could enter and steal my shit. Well . . . not literally steal my shit cuz I flush that down clown, but ya know what I mean. I had moments, in my meandering through the neighborhood, where I nearly forgot about my broken ankle. My foot is feeling good, at least good enough for me to go for a long-ish stroll.
Some curious things I saw on my walk included all of the rubbish that is visible now that the snow is gone. There are some nasty remnants out there. I saw LOTS of cigarette butts. LOTS. Also spotted (and avoided) plenty of dog turds. PLENTY. There were random empty cans and bottles, what looked to be rabbit droppings -- perhaps it was fertilizer. As I continued on my journey, it became a game to see what the strangest thing might be. Banana peel. Sock. Fast food wrapper. Then my eyes caught a glint of metallic in a nearby patch of dead grass. Cell phone. Yep, somebody done lost their cell phone. I kept on on walkin. The phone probably doesn't work anymore. Hopefully some poor squirrel can snag it and use it to call his homies or order up a pizza. Squirrels deserve cell phones too. Why should humans get all the good stuff?
I know there is a metaphor here. The things that people leave behind. Renewal of life dredging up past transgressions and the like. I was just happy to be out in the fresh air enjoying the smells and sounds of Spring and grateful my hoof no longer hurts.
On a completely unrelated note, I have recently grown weary of this blogging thing. Thinking about packin it in and just going back to my good ole paper journal. Something about physically writing, putting pen to paper, that just feels right and therapeutic and soul purging. I don't know. I guess when I pour my thoughts and questions into my personal journal I am somewhat reassured by the fact that no one, only me, reads it and gives a damn. Only me. By its very nature it is a solitary, private action. This blogging thing is oddly public and strangely voyeuristic. It's like walking around inside with the curtains open. You get the feeling people are watching but no one stops and knocks on the door to say hello. That's creepy. Here I become too easily impacted by the lack of response. The whole deal is set up to create a feedback loop, so when nothing happens and no one jumps in the water, it seems more sad, more lonely and more isolating than my personal journal experience could ever feel. I'd rather feel alone and able to tell it all to no one than feel exposed in a crowd (or, in my case, a handful).
Odd, eh?
Why did I just ask that question?
Some curious things I saw on my walk included all of the rubbish that is visible now that the snow is gone. There are some nasty remnants out there. I saw LOTS of cigarette butts. LOTS. Also spotted (and avoided) plenty of dog turds. PLENTY. There were random empty cans and bottles, what looked to be rabbit droppings -- perhaps it was fertilizer. As I continued on my journey, it became a game to see what the strangest thing might be. Banana peel. Sock. Fast food wrapper. Then my eyes caught a glint of metallic in a nearby patch of dead grass. Cell phone. Yep, somebody done lost their cell phone. I kept on on walkin. The phone probably doesn't work anymore. Hopefully some poor squirrel can snag it and use it to call his homies or order up a pizza. Squirrels deserve cell phones too. Why should humans get all the good stuff?
I know there is a metaphor here. The things that people leave behind. Renewal of life dredging up past transgressions and the like. I was just happy to be out in the fresh air enjoying the smells and sounds of Spring and grateful my hoof no longer hurts.
On a completely unrelated note, I have recently grown weary of this blogging thing. Thinking about packin it in and just going back to my good ole paper journal. Something about physically writing, putting pen to paper, that just feels right and therapeutic and soul purging. I don't know. I guess when I pour my thoughts and questions into my personal journal I am somewhat reassured by the fact that no one, only me, reads it and gives a damn. Only me. By its very nature it is a solitary, private action. This blogging thing is oddly public and strangely voyeuristic. It's like walking around inside with the curtains open. You get the feeling people are watching but no one stops and knocks on the door to say hello. That's creepy. Here I become too easily impacted by the lack of response. The whole deal is set up to create a feedback loop, so when nothing happens and no one jumps in the water, it seems more sad, more lonely and more isolating than my personal journal experience could ever feel. I'd rather feel alone and able to tell it all to no one than feel exposed in a crowd (or, in my case, a handful).
Odd, eh?
Why did I just ask that question?
Monday, March 15, 2010
Time To Spice It Up!
This blog lacks flavor. I'm looking to kick it up with something a wee bit saucy. What this blog needs is some spice. Now, I suppose that could mean a variety of things. I'm not talking online porn, although a few well placed and completely appropriate images of one Robert Downey Jr. are not entirely out of the question. Now that is spicy!
To amp up the flavor profile I thought about dedicating my blog to spicy foods from around the globe. Unfortunately, I'm kinda a wimp when it comes to heat on the taste buds so my content would be severely limited. You can only write so much about ketchup and mild curry stir-fry, right?
No, no, no. What this blog needs is a fresh perspective, a slightly twisted outlook that might, on occasion, cause spontaneous peeing of the pants due to intense laughter. I'm talking about a GUEST BLOGGER! Yeee Haw. Hang on to your knickers ladies and gent, the Abysmal Scribble is on the prowl and coming to you at a 'That's My Best' posting in the near future. I invited Scribs to lay it down and take no prisoners. Let's hope the muse strikes her soon and she graces us with some guest blogger spicy goodness.
I'll be here as well to drop a line and, if you are lucky, some more Robert Downey photos. :)
Oh, and we'll try the bold font for the visually impaired fans out there. Shakin it up in 2010.
Over and out.
To amp up the flavor profile I thought about dedicating my blog to spicy foods from around the globe. Unfortunately, I'm kinda a wimp when it comes to heat on the taste buds so my content would be severely limited. You can only write so much about ketchup and mild curry stir-fry, right?
No, no, no. What this blog needs is a fresh perspective, a slightly twisted outlook that might, on occasion, cause spontaneous peeing of the pants due to intense laughter. I'm talking about a GUEST BLOGGER! Yeee Haw. Hang on to your knickers ladies and gent, the Abysmal Scribble is on the prowl and coming to you at a 'That's My Best' posting in the near future. I invited Scribs to lay it down and take no prisoners. Let's hope the muse strikes her soon and she graces us with some guest blogger spicy goodness.I'll be here as well to drop a line and, if you are lucky, some more Robert Downey photos. :)
Oh, and we'll try the bold font for the visually impaired fans out there. Shakin it up in 2010.
Over and out.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
An Ozy Retrospective
It's been awhile since I posted an Ozy update. He's nearly a year old and the time has flown by. So many milestones for our little furry baby -- yes, that's right -- I called him a furry baby. He's almost completely house trained and only has the occasional "accident" now and again. Ozy graduated from puppy training school (albeit not at the top of his class), had his first professional photo shoot, all of his shots AND continues to defend his homeland from the tyrannical reign of all socks. Socks, after all, are his sworn foe. I suspect Ozy believes the socks are swallowing our feet and he doesn't appreciate that very much.
Some of the OzMan's favorite things include: chewing on jumbo beef tendons (otherwise known as Flossies), trying to lick our feet just after we get out of the shower, chasing our cat Sophie, laying on his bed in front of the fireplace, playing fetch with his rope bone, eating ANYTHING, going for walks so he can sniff and sniff and sniff some more, fighting socks, barking at us when he demands our attention, watching videos of himself (seriously!), going for car rides, burrowing under the comforter and cuddling up, doing his little swimmer strokes on the carpet after he is released from his kennel, greeting strangers every chance he gets, playing with his doggy friend Daisy, trying to eat dryer lint -- did I mention he eats EVERYTHING?
I thought it would be fun to do a little photo retrospective and show images of Ozy over the past year. Man, he sure has grown!
Newborn puppy Ozy:
4 Weeks Old Ozy:
11 Weeks:
4 Months:
7 Months and his ears shot straight up!
9 Months (oh, that's my sister holding him):
11 Months and lookin kindy grumpy. Notice the ears are now floppy again:
"Memories, like the corners of my mind . . . misty water colored memories . . . of the way we were . . ."
Today was another milestone moment for both Ozy and his owners. We attended our first exclusive party. Only Boston Terriers allowed. I joined the Twin Cities Boston Terrier group which gets together monthly for play groups. It was utter mayhem. About 15 Bostons running around, butt sniffing, peeing, barking and having the time of their little doggy lives. Ozy loved it. At one point, he literally had froth coming out of his mouth due to all the excitement and sheer exhaustion. Gross, I know.
I tried to capture some of the moments, but these photos don't due the sensory experience any justice. The echo of barking, the smell of urine, cannot possibly be recorded. Oh how I wish it could.
Needless to say, we got home and Ozy crashed. Running with the big dogs takes a lot outta a guy. Whew. What a wonderful weekend!!
Some of the OzMan's favorite things include: chewing on jumbo beef tendons (otherwise known as Flossies), trying to lick our feet just after we get out of the shower, chasing our cat Sophie, laying on his bed in front of the fireplace, playing fetch with his rope bone, eating ANYTHING, going for walks so he can sniff and sniff and sniff some more, fighting socks, barking at us when he demands our attention, watching videos of himself (seriously!), going for car rides, burrowing under the comforter and cuddling up, doing his little swimmer strokes on the carpet after he is released from his kennel, greeting strangers every chance he gets, playing with his doggy friend Daisy, trying to eat dryer lint -- did I mention he eats EVERYTHING?
I thought it would be fun to do a little photo retrospective and show images of Ozy over the past year. Man, he sure has grown!
Newborn puppy Ozy:
4 Weeks Old Ozy:
11 Weeks:
4 Months:
7 Months and his ears shot straight up!
9 Months (oh, that's my sister holding him):
11 Months and lookin kindy grumpy. Notice the ears are now floppy again:
"Memories, like the corners of my mind . . . misty water colored memories . . . of the way we were . . ."
Today was another milestone moment for both Ozy and his owners. We attended our first exclusive party. Only Boston Terriers allowed. I joined the Twin Cities Boston Terrier group which gets together monthly for play groups. It was utter mayhem. About 15 Bostons running around, butt sniffing, peeing, barking and having the time of their little doggy lives. Ozy loved it. At one point, he literally had froth coming out of his mouth due to all the excitement and sheer exhaustion. Gross, I know.
I tried to capture some of the moments, but these photos don't due the sensory experience any justice. The echo of barking, the smell of urine, cannot possibly be recorded. Oh how I wish it could.
Needless to say, we got home and Ozy crashed. Running with the big dogs takes a lot outta a guy. Whew. What a wonderful weekend!!
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