Snippets

Random bits

Marrow

What is Marrow? By definition, it’s the choicest of food; the inmost, best, or essential part. In Detroit, it’s all that- in a hot new restaurant.

Actually, it’s a butcher shop by day, restaurant by night. Rachel and I happened to stumble upon Marrow on a trip to the Detroit’s West Village after frequenting a local pie shop. When we saw “hot birds” on the window sign we, being from The Nest, thought “that’s us.” Of course, they were advertising rotisserie chickens.

The Detroit Free Press had just bestowed Marrow with the honor of No. 2 in Detroit’s Top 10 Best New Restaurants as we moseyed our way in. Oh sure, their cameras might have been bigger, but they had nothing on our appetites. It was like being a kid in a candy store for these carnivores, and we couldn’t wait to take things home for our families to try too. We grabbed sausages (spicy, summer, and pork), Lebanese bologna, and pepperoni. If only we would have brought a cooler, we could have taken home some steaks- or a shank. (Next time…)

Marrow’s butcher shop offers a lunch special every day, we were serendipitous enough to come on a Corned Beef Reuben day. I am not exaggerating when I say the thin slices of corned beef melted in my mouth. Honestly, it melted like a good prosciutto, except with the flavor of a delicious mild corned beef. The sandwich bread was a soft and hearty wheat from Zingerman’s (an Ann Arbor favorite); the Russian dressing was flavorful, but not overpowering; and the crunch from those sweet pickles, mmmm… Let me say that again, those sweet pickles from Coriander Kitchen and Farm of Detroit, were a star in their own right. And FYI, we heard that Coriander is going to be opening a Detroit restaurant in the near future. Oh yeah!

Rachel felt baller sitting at the bar next to the dry ager full of meat (it was a little early for her cognac and cigar). Marrow emanates a great vibe. It’s local-butcher-shop-esque with their impressive displays of meats and charcuteries- complete with meat-carver in apron for day-comers…

And urban chic-meets industrial bar for the night crowd. “The neighborhood butcher shop and restaurant hybrid serves as a community gathering place.” I wish I lived across the street, because I could see me hanging out there regularly.

But I think what I loved most about Marrow, okay, besides the friendly and knowledgable staff- (shout out to the Executive Chef Sarah, who shared a sample of a prototype seasoning blend)…

What I loved most, was the sense of community. #DetroitProud Marrow is supporting local business, who in turn support them. It’s a real grassroots effort that is contributing to the Detroit comeback. Business owners and community members alike are working together and supporting one another for the betterment of the city at large and those who live there. Shelves are stocked with Michigan made goods, and the names of local farms who supply the meats, cheeses, and such are visibly listed on the back wall.

There are great things happening in the D. And it’s contagious- because of businesses like Marrow who take pride in giving their community quality products and services. The vision of founder Ping Ho is to “inspire a return to old world practices of buying direct and supporting small local producers.” There are strength in numbers, and Detroit business owners working together, along with the backing of local patrons, is a movement that is gaining momentum. Although, being excellent at what they do, it’s no wonder that Marrow is getting due recognition for being outstanding.

Thanks to Marrow for letting us spend time perusing your establishment. Our lunch was delicious; and we’ve been enjoying our products, such as Graham’s Organics breakfast pork sausage, at home too!

We can’t wait to get back for dinner at Marrow soon, and a word to the wise: reservations are recommended. (And they are closed on Tuesdays)

Marrow is located at 8044 Kercheval Ave, 1B  |  Detroit, Michigan

For more information check out their website at www.marrowdetroit.com

Downtown Milford’s Holiday Window Reveal

Milford is the cutest little town. It’s like straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Last week, members of the community (and maybe others who weren’t) gathered on the sidewalks of Main Street to watch the local businesses reveal their holiday displays. It really was ideal. There was a chill in the air, enhancing the excitement, and a light snowfall set the perfect scene. Everyone was bundled up, huddled in small groups, making chitchat while waiting in anticipation.

It’s the kind of thing that small towns thrive on, a real sense of community. It’s the charm of not being lost in the crowds of a big city. It’s the invitation to make small talk with an unknown friendly neighbor about how the local weather, which the two of you share, has caught you off guard and left you both with snow covered deck furniture in need of putting away (or maybe that was just my occurrence). It’s experiencing the pride and joy of local business owners who care to enhance their community and make it special for every season.

Okay, maybe (in small part) the perfect snowfall was due to a machine projected from a hometown restaurant. (My kids loved filling me in on that.) But if that isn’t a testament of how far the local businesses were willing to go to make the evening magical, then I don’t know what is! It only added to the ambiance of an already idyllic scene. (And aren’t all Hallmark movies made on a set?) I mean, I couldn’t have been more charmed- even if you would have told me that all of the townspeople were paid actors.

We started by meeting up with some friends and their kids at the local coffee roaster’s shop, The Proving Grounds (a play on the GM’s Proving Grounds, the largest business in town.) While we were there, warming up and ordering something to keep us warm outdoors, we caught a glimpse of their display… Santa himself! He was checking his list (twice). Can you believe it? Right here in Milford.

Of course the kids were excited, but we left Santa to do his work and joined back in the hubbub of anticipation on Main Street. When the clock struck 6:30 pm, the wrapping papers were ripped off like it was Christmas morning, to expose the extraordinary secrets that awaited…

And SO many of the displays were special and thought out! Many were obviously themed for their specific shop, such as, the Milford Baking Co.:

and Music & Arts:

Restaurants, like the Blue Grill, had festively painted their windows to last for the whole season:

The live displays were captivating. Clothing stores displayed their merchandise and gift shops showed their wares… Like Nana’s Niche & Corner:

The kids in this display were emulating a snowball fight. Ah-dorable.

Shop owners could tell a whole story by sharing a glimpse of heartwarming relatable scenes. For example this present wrapping scene from The Clothing Cove:

I can’t really pick a favorite, but another window display from the same store was at the top of my list. The whole scene, full of penguins and ice fishing at what I imagine to be the North Pole, was transcendental story book. I couldn’t even snap a clear picture because of all of the kids faces pressed to the glass, and then I thought, “what better way to capture its essence and magnativity?”

Some stores shared playful displays:

Some went vintage (and enticed the kids with sugar cookies, literally just inside their doors):

One, Acorn Farms, had the most beautiful gingerbread house I’ve even seen! It was rotating in a fairy tale scene of marshmallow trees and life-sized gingerbread men and women:

The night was instantly one of my favorite holiday paving events. I’m thankful for such community members and businesses for making things special and memorable for kids (and us grown-ups). And I’m appreciative for this important guy taking time out of his busy schedule to pose for Santa selfies.

Happy holiday season everyone!

Ode to Tissue

white

square

cotton 

care

 

boogie mitt

pad in shoe

ghost on sucker

friend of flu

 

dries the tears

dabs boo-boos

holds old gum

bless ah-choos

 

tiny spills

dirty finger swipes

bloody noses

make-shift diaper wipes

 

lose a tooth

drop a cup

save that for later 

wrap it up

 

watch sad movies

loss and pain

clutch in fist

blot this stain

 

stuffed in pocket

packed in purse

timely share

paper nurse

 

mascara runs

snot on face

void in absence

can’t be replaced

 

on the table

next to chairs

neatly boxed

mounds everywhere

 

by Sadie Carter

Inspired by the current events in my home and derived from lack of sleep

 

Happy Voting Day!

 

Monster Pops

Those who know me, know that I’m not really a Halloween fan. Do I love adorable kid costumes? Yes. Do I like to be scared? No. If it were up to me we would just skip to Thanksgiving and have intermittent costume parties throughout the year. However, I do like to send in treats to my kids’ seasonal classroom parties. Usually, I like to follow the KISS method (Keep It Simple Stupid). My check list goes something like this, (in order of importance):

  1. Will it taste good?
  2. Is it cute?
  3. Is it realistically easy enough for me to do?

If it checks the criteria, it’s usually a no brainer- no need to keep digging.

Tada! I found these on Lilluna.com! (And you can get all of the details by clicking on the link.) So cute! So simple. I love that it’s not gory or scary… And who doesn’t love Rice Krispy Treats?  You can buy the melting candy already colored, and pre-packaged Krispy Treats. (Also, FYI it’s great for those peanut free classrooms!) This year I was in charge of the snack for both of my elementary schooler’s parties. So I get to use this twice! Bonus!

So, just in case you were looking for a last minute idea… This here, highly recommended! (I just wish I had thought of it…) 😉

Fall Forward

I love fall. To me, it’s the most exciting time of year. I love the chill in the morning air after the long hot summer days. I love the hustle and bustle of back to school. I loved it as a young girl, the anticipation of knowing I was going to see my friends again after summer break. You could feel it in the air. I loved the football games, oversized sweaters, and hot drinks. I loved mom’s pot roast and apple pie. Some things never change. There’s a comfort in that. When Owen and I got married in early fall, I think it had more to do with planning a honeymoon around Labor Day, a three day weekend. I remember my uncle remarking at my wedding, what a beautiful time of year it was to be married with all of the changes in the season. It was a notion I really hadn’t put much thought into at the time, but I think about every year now. For a homebody, it’s a perfect time of year for the excitement of what lies ahead in the warmth of our home: stoking fires, baking pies, early nights under big blankets. After the fast pace of trying to take advantage of every outdoor moment in summer, it’s a reprieve for the body and mind.

Tahquamenon River, courtesy of Ryan French

I really can’t say that we’ve slowed down this fall as much as I’d like to. We’ve been doing some autumn projects. My baby boy (who is actually my oldest) is growing up. This year he traded his old bunk beds and little desk for (what looks like to me to be) an adult apartment. If I think about it too long, I could get sappy and emotional… But, somehow the seasonal change helped me through it. It seemed more exciting, like a good time for preparation. I tell you what, Fall is medicinal.

Old bed

New bed

Old Desk

New Desk

It also helps that he kept a Lego pen box on his desk. I mean, I can only handle so much change at a time. I realize he is in middle school. I remember putting away the Barbies… I think it’s a good time to bake a therapeutic pumpkin bread. (I couldn’t have enjoyed that as much in the summer… See?)

This weekend we moved the dock at my parents cabin, to make way for winter changes.

The Cabin, Courtesy of Ryan French

And I spent some time with my favorite people.

My dad and sister, courtesy of Ryan French

It warms the heart, right? The stability during the inevitable change. The togetherness. And look at all of the autumn color! I love it. Enjoy your Fall!

Featured image courtesy of my brother-in-law, Ryan French

New Lights

Allow me to illuminate…

Let me shed some light on the situation…

I’m already out of witty puns. (Which is probably a good thing.)

Anyway, you might remember that a few weeks ago, I was cooking in the shadows. Some of you were so supportive, I feel like I owe it to you not to leave you in the dark. (Okay, I had one more.) For any readers just joining- our kitchen light, the ugly fluorescent thing it was, burned out. I’m actually glad it did, because I wanted to replace it from the moment we moved in. But you know how it goes, it worked- and there were other projects… So there it stayed. Then as luck would have it, the thing stopped doing its’ job and forced me to replace it. Sounds easy when I type it out… but it was so much more complicated than that! First of all, obviously, I love being in the kitchen. It’s where I spend the majority of my awake time. One of my favorite things about my house is that I can be with my family when they’re doing homework, watching TV, playing games, etc., while I am in the kitchen. (Another thing is that I have enough cupboards to accommodate my bundt pan collection, not that this has anything to do with picking out a light…) The point is, the kitchen is important to me. I enjoy cooking and baking… and I just wanted the light to be perfect.

The fluorescent monstrosity after the burned-out bulbs were removed.

I have, what I believe to be, an unusually difficult time making decisions. I don’t know, maybe everybody does? (Some people, not to mention names – Joanna Gaines- make it look so easy.) I surveyed these popular farmhouse industrial lights, that are really great. But my kitchen was built in the early 2000’s when Tuscan kitchens were the thing. Which is fine, because I like warm woods and I’m pretty traditional… but all of the new kitchens that look great with the “Fixer Upper” farm style lights are white on white (white cabinets with white counter tops). They’re beautiful, just not what I’ve got (and a kitchen remodel is not happening right now). So, it was hard for me to picture, because I’m one who needs to see it. When I would search for pictures of kitchens of my era, a lot of the lighting already looked outdated. Next, although my house has many traditional elements, the previous owners did some very nice contemporary upgrades. I actually like those too, because I like everything (which plays a part in my decision making problems). Since there is such an open concept in my home, I don’t want to clash elements with a fixture too old school. Then, there is the added consideration of the adjacent light over the kitchen table; they have to match, or at least get along. (Blah blah blah… it’s all very boring, I know.)

Original kitchen table light, moved to dining room

Originally, the light over the kitchen table was a long line of what looks like wax candles (that are actually not). It’s a pretty light… that looked better over my dining room table. After several texts and scouring the internet, my mom helped me pick out a new light (pictured below). I loved that it had a traditional feel- that was still up-to-date with the urban industrial farmhouse trend. The oiled bronze finish complimented the coppery tones in my countertops, and didn’t fight the black iron railings of the nearby modern stairway. However, the length was not adjustable and I did not like how the directness of the light was limited to only what lied underneath. Meaning, it was like a spot light for the table… or if we replaced the table with a chair, we could have done interrogations.

First attempt, spot light

The matching island light was three lights, identical to the pendant light over the table. In theory, it was perfect. In reality, it was not happening. The real issue wasn’t that when the old rectangular box above the stovetop was removed, there wasn’t an electrical box. And it wasn’t that the ceiling would now need patching and paint. It was that the length of the light this fixture was also not adjustable, and wouldn’t work over my gas range. (Sad face and sigh.)

So we sent it back.

The silver lining was that for as long as my husband has known me, I have wanted a pot rack. (I’m an old soul type, who would dream about babies, fireplaces, pot racks, and sculpted bakeware… I love what I love.) But I was concerned about a couple things… One, undoubtedly being, that even with a 10 foot ceiling, I needed to make sure that after the length of a mounted rack and hanging pans, I had room to stir in my biggest pot. Clearly, I need to cook! Second, I was concerned about the amount of light that would actually shine through. After cooking for weeks by lamplight, I wondered about how much glow would be obstructed by hanging pots and pans. I want to see what I’m doing!

My pot rack! Now for more hangable pots…

The solutions were easy with a little more thought. (And the fallback that they too could be returned.) I liked the look of the pendant over the kitchen table, so I found a wider style with an open top (less like a spotlight) on a chain (adjustable). For the island, I found a pot rack (also adjustable in length) with lights open to viewing, positioned above the pots, and with the pot hooks spread farther out than the lights- as to not block them. (I also intend to get the popular Edison bulbs, in the near future.) Overall, the fixture gives the space a kind of old world feel, and the credibility of a real working kitchen that I find charming without rivaling the contemporary aspects of my home. The styles of the two lights were not identical but complementary… they work… I can see in the morning and at night… I’m happy.

The light fixtures

I’d like to thank my husband and father-in-law who spent much of their recent weekends hanging lights, and taking them down, (and taking them to UPS), and installing electrical boxes and weight bearing structures… Thank you.

Whiskey in a Tea Cup

Whiskey in a Tea Cup? Sounds like a fine idea to me. However, the notion that “southern women are a combination of beauty and strength” resonates with me even stronger. Not that I’m a southern woman, because even though I lived in Tennessee for 2 years, by all standards I’m a certified northerner. That said, I never realized what a southern woman I actually am! I suppose it does make sense. On my father’s side, the lineage is clear: German, Irish and French Canadian. On my mother’s side it went like this: GG (what we called my great-grandmother) was from Texas. After she was married, they moved to Tennessee. Along the way (like the Dolly Parton song), they moved from the Appalachians to Detroit for work.  My maternal grandfather also had roots in Tennessee. All that seemed important to the cross-culturalism of mom’s side is that we’re from the south and we know we have some Cherokee (My paternal great-great grandfather was Cherokee- which they always accredited for my high cheek bones.) Since I came from a stable loving home, full of support, holiday traditions, nightly dinners, large family gatherings- I never questioned the origin of the devotion to fried chicken and buttermilk biscuits. It was just all I knew.

Instantly, I was smitten with Whiskey in a Teacup. Reading it is like cheerfully walking down Familiar Lane; pleasant and homey with an emphasis on family and the good times. It reminds me of a single volume of an annual subscription of Southern Living Magazine through the life and eyes of Reese Witherspoon. She gives family recipes (which I always appreciate) and party menu lists for year round celebratory occasions. Do I want to have a Kentucky Derby Party complete with pretty dresses and oversized hats? Yes, I do. And I want to serve Reese’s suggested Mint Juleps and Chocolate Derby Pecan Pie. She includes entertaining anecdotes from her childhood and endearing memories of her grandparents, mom, brother, family and friends. She made me want to put on my pearl necklace and get a dog. Reese had me reminiscing about my own grandparents’ huge garden and my grandpa’s work habits, from dawn to dusk even after retirement. In such a BFF kind of way, Reese takes her personal sharing even further- by suggesting music play lists for events like a “Southern Party” and road trips. She gives instructions for how to use hot rollers, and diagrams for how to set casual, as well as, formal table settings (with clever ways to remember). She gives hostess tips, attendee advice, flea market strategies, book reading suggestions, and gift ideas for a variety of occasions. I too love monograms Reese! It is an art under-appreciated in the north, and so is wall paper, soul sister.

My affirmations of my southern upbringing (in the north) were confirmed by the big hair and love of make-up Reese attributed to women of the south. (However, it’s possible that in general the Jersey shore has the whole country beat.) Nobody outdoes my mother. She has never been caught in any photograph, broad daylight, or getting out of bed without her hair done (big) and lipstick applied. Of course, Reese explains that although it rang true for her grandmother, it seemed to skip a generation on her mother. I admit, it seems to have passed me by. But it is already strong with my daughter – a real northern “Southern Belle” in the making. Although the “put your face on” approach to life for me is reserved for special occasions, the love of holidays and the joy of over-the-top decorating for every celebratory day on the calendar has not been lost on me. It is in full effect. Full Effect. From the stair banisters, to the mantels, to the (respective holiday) motif dishes and serve ware, to the annual traditions of gathering and food; holiday celebrations are cherished in my home. I love dressing up for the holidays. And I get it when you say “…We like having things to look forward to–times that we know will be entirely about family and togetherness and the kids and the things that really matter…” Yes, ma’am.

Thanks to Reese Witherspoon’s newly released book, I understand so much more of my southern roots! My mom’s sayings, (Reese’s “Betty-isms”), i.e., Pretty is as pretty does and To have a good friend, be a good friend, her affinity for equestrian themed art, and her natural ability to hostess, her understanding of complimentary fabrics and patterns… My love of Bluegrass, the banjo, quilts, and Dolly Parton… So, even if I’m in Michigan, Reese is in California, and you are where you are… Our southern connection transcends state lines. So ring the brass bell and raise our teacups, because I’ll toast to that!

Nuts & Lights

When it seems like it’s everybody else… it must be me.

I do realize I have created my own situation. I’m coming to terms with it. I’m nuts!

My kitchen island light burned out last week. We smelled something burning and the light didn’t turn on… it was over. Which is fine because I never liked having Kmart-ish fluorescent bulbs over my kitchen island anyway. The problem lies in finding time to shop for a new fixture- but, even more-so, when the time permits, making decisions… alone. First things first. The kids are starting school. As much as I try, I’m really not good at organizing- not really. I remember meeting at a coffee shop last year with a few room moms to plan an elementary school party when they were talking about the difficulty of balancing it all… I made a random (true) statement about just being glad my kids had their snacks in their backpacks. I’m not exaggerating when I say I got a couple side looks and a full blank stare into my eyes. (This is why I shouldn’t volunteer for anything. On top of being erratic, I really am an introvert, and like to avoid this kind of stuff at all costs.) I was serious. In seven years, and with three of my four children enrolled in public school, I may have forgotten a snack twice. That doesn’t nullify the fact that it feels like an accomplishment every time it makes it into the backpack. My life gets hectic. There are definitely those mornings when I haven’t grocery shopped in close to two weeks and I feel like a genius that I remember we have half of a sleeve of Ritz crackers in the pantry and I find a bag of microwave popcorn I can nuke. Success. 

But whatever. Right now, I need to buy a light, and I don’t want to do it by myself. I need someone to bounce my thoughts off of! I am a person who prefers not to socialize, who can’t make a decision by myself. What?! I’m ridiculous! My husband really doesn’t care what I buy. Scheduling time with him after work with the kids’ sports schedules is nearly impossible anyway. My mom has been up north at their cabin literally all summer. She is my “go to”. That is the drawback with placing myself in solitary confinement. When your only friend is away… (big, deep, sad breath). The truth is I really detest asking people for favors. Loathe. Which is why I bring all four children to my son’s orthodontist appointment; I sit in the lobby with three children and occasionally walk back to check on him. I take all four of my kids to my baby’s physical and we cram in a tiny pediatric examination room. Is it convenient? Not at all. It is what it is, and what I have made it. In fact, I thought of a great book title for myself, considering I’m a little kooky (and I’m doing this Paleo/low carb diet thing again), “If You Are What You Eat, Then I’m a Nut.” Good right? Very Erma Bombeck. 

Let me shed some more light on my situation. (Pun intended… so clever.) I haven’t seen my high school best friend in like 3 years. No wait, we ran into her at the hospital last year. Regardless, I still consider her one of my best friends. If she needed me to pick her up from an abandoned warehouse in Detroit at 2 am I would tell her “I’m on my way.” I love her wholly. We are friends on Facebook, and I know what her children look like. We text on birthdays… I would still ask her to be my bridesmaid (like she was 17 years ago.) We just never see each other.

It’s the same thing with my best friend from college. I’m crazy about her. Last year, I moved about 20 minutes away from her. She came to my house shortly after we moved in, and we have met once for dinner since; which, considering we have gone years practically without contact let alone a visit, is pretty good. I love her being and her family and her company… I know she feels the same way about me. Which is perfect and enough. Our plans for last Friday went something like this: On Monday we texted how much we missed each other and how we have to get together. It resulted in arrangements that she would let me know where her daughter would be cheering on Friday, so my family could come to watch. Then we would all go out for ice cream or something afterwards. On the following Saturday, I texted her to sarcastically thank her for the non-existent forwarded information. To which I acknowledged that I was not at all upset (or surprised) over and even slightly grateful for, because I am anti-social. It might sound pathetic, but it works for us.

So, back to the light. At this point making dinner has worked out okay because we still have daylight at night. But packing lunches in the morning by the recessed light over the kitchen sink and candlelight is getting annoying. Alright I haven’t lit a candle yet, but it’s possible I yelled at the kids not to shut the refrigerator door because I needed the phosphorescent. Maybe shopping is not difficult for some people. Certainly, now that most of my kids are back in school, it should be easier. No. Labor Day weekend was filled with closet organization for all of my kids, weeding the front yard, attaining last minute school supplies and a mandatory pool party on the holiday itself. (I didn’t want my kids to think summer was all work.) My daughter started gymnastics after school on Tuesday. I began pre-school at home with my youngest child. We are in the process of selling a house- which has required paperwork and phone calls… on top of the bills to send out at the beginning of the month. On Thursday, my son had a follow-up pediatric appointment (which we attended with just the two of us, YAY!) and started soccer. This week, I’ve been attempting healthy dinners every night to nourish my little learners. Also, I started this stupid diet, and I battled a sugar withdrawal headache for two days. (Don’t mind me I’m hangry for carbs.) Who has time to read their own books, or write, or blog, or shop for a light?

But the light fixture is a must. I know I can’t avoid it, and really don’t want to eat in the dark this winter. So, who else can I ask? For my self-imposed situation, that leaves my sister. I love my sister as much as any human can love another. She is the best. She’s solid. She also has great ideas and style. She is very dependable… and the worst person for me to ask a favor. I’ll explain. She would do anything for anybody she loves, and even strangers. She stretches herself so thin and to the point of exhaustion so much for others that I rarely can muster the nerve to ask her to do anything. In addition, making plans with my sister is an Erma Bombeck story. We’re both kind of nuts. (Sorry Ray.) For example, on Labor Day we are at her house for a pool party. In between watching the kids swim, splash, eat, etc., we make small talk about how we’re going to start walking when the kids go back to school. She wants to start right away, and I mention that I really need to shop for a new kitchen island light. I (reluctantly) share that I could use her help making a decision… we end up scheduling for Friday. There’s a major heat wave so I bail on walking- besides I’m busy. On Thursday night, I send her some ideas of fixtures I’m looking at on-line, and the different reasons I like them. I’m already sending anxious vibes about not knowing what lighting store to go to. (I’m also trying to think about how I need to pack myself and the four kids for our weekend trip. I see the stack of dishes from dinner that I know I need to clean up before we head out. I’m thinking about the Costco sized bags of stinking chicken breasts and frozen broccoli etc., that are going to be rotting in our garbage cans while we’re gone since the refrigerator in the garage quit working; When? I don’t know, but I found it yesterday. I start to question the idea of something wrong with our electric system since the kitchen light was fried and the refrigerator went kaput?) On Friday morning, my sister sends me a text asking if we’re still going. (She knows me so well.) She also mentions that she’s babysitting in the middle of the day during a lunch hour. She adds that she needs to let the neighbor’s dog out before we leave; that she has to drop off a prescription for her brother-in-law’s mother-in-law’s friend; that she promised to pick up some dry cleaning for an elderly lady she met at the grocery store; and, that she has committed to taking homemade organic nut and gluten free granola bars (which will need a quick 15-20 minutes in the oven) to the PTO meeting after school. She remains hopeful, but I know full-well that when she leaves that PTO meeting, she will no-doubtedly be late to her son’s football game- since she has also promised to water her out-of-town pastor’s family’s flowers before sundown. I add that I just got a text from my middle schooler saying he forgot his poster board for science class, so I need to drop that off before his fourth hour. (Okay, okay- some of that isn’t true, but you get the point.) Light shopping will have to wait.

So, like my husband predicted a week ago, I’ll probably buy a few lighting fixtures on line- that I will return (i.e., have him return so I don’t see people) because I hate them… after we get home from our weekend getaway.

I already know.

I need some almonds.

The End.

How To’s for Fall

Mind-blowing!

(Maybe not) But with step-by-step tutorials at our fingertips, we can be at the top of our game. Or, at least in the game. And I’m going to share a few of my current Fall “how to” faves with you.

The last time I was in France I got inspired and caught up in the moment, and purchased scarves… that I never wore again. Mostly, because I don’t know what the heck I’m doing. But wait until you see me this fall! I’m going to drop 6 dress sizes, curl my hair, and look just like her… Well, I’m going to tie my scarf like her.

 

Now that we are cultured and polished, it’s only the course of nature- to throw a party! Harvest time begs for celebrations. Thankfully, Martha Stewart has it all planned out for us in her Wine Tasting Party 101. (Click on text to the left) Cheers!

Photograph by Bryan Gardner Courtesy of marthastewart.com

If scarves and parties aren’t your thing, not to fear! I have more interests too. Fall is an inspiring season for in-home projects. The weather is cooler and the fresh air wafting through the open windows is invigorating!

I think I have previously mentioned that we painted over a rather large mural in one of the rooms in our home. I’m not kidding. This is the mural (courtesy of zillow.com, because I don’t have a wide angle lens):

This is the drab and lifeless wall as it stands:

I would love to show you the after photo, right after I finish it; which is why I’m studying “How to Hang a Gallery Wall the Right Way”. Thank you for laying it out for us momtastic.com!

Of course, bakers everywhere are full of fresh-out-of-the-oven anticipation with autumn being just a few weeks away. So naturally, I am in chomping at the bit to start pie season! If you admire those beautiful lattice work pies, but don’t know how to weave crust perfection… look no further. Ali Martin of Gimme Some Oven has broken it down for us.

Last, but not least, for us here in the upper midwest the gardening season is coming to an end. However, we don’t want our bountiful herbs to go to waste. Hence- the preservation system that will get us through the long winter months. The Garden Glove gives great tips for drying herbs, as well as, sharing other great and innovative ideas! For example, freezing herbs in olive oil… Those flavorful cubes make great soup starters!

Well, I feel more prepared for Fall… I hope you do too!

Stay well everyone! (Because cold and flu season is right around the corner. Lol! Don’t worry, there are many websites full of “how to” home remedies.)

The Whodunnit Dream

I think she was a country singer. I really didn’t know anything about her, except that she was a real southern lady- generous, hospitable and kind… and that I was a guest in her large southern home. They had found her lifeless that morning, the workers of her estate. It just didn’t add up. Who would want to kill such a wonderful woman? Well it seemed, as her houseguest, I should at least look for clues. I felt like I owed that to her. The home was full of dark wood walls and carvings, the very height of fashion about fifty years ago when it was built. It had felt so warm and full of life just last night. Now, it all seemed dated and cold, like artifacts in a museum. As I went into her bedroom, nothing seemed mysterious or out of place. But wait, why was there a red handprint on top of that bookshelf? It seemed like a print left behind from a cheaply dyed glove that had gotten wet. Could that be evidence left from the killer? (Cue the music: dun dun dun) All of the sudden, I got an uneasy feeling that I wasn’t alone. Was it possible the killer had come back to the scene of the crime to tie up loose ends? Just then, I heard the hallway door start to close. I knew it was the murderer, and I couldn’t let them get away! I reached out my hand to grab the suspect, but all I got was a cold hand as they tried to push the door shut. I felt her long sharp nails as she pulled away and ran. It was too late. She was gone.

Later in the day, I had gathered my things to leave. It didn’t seem right to stay. I wanted to help, but I really didn’t have much to go on and couldn’t imagine getting another opportunity. It was driving me crazy. Who was that woman and why would she do it? It was day one, and already everyone had given up on a search for any suspects or reasons why. But I just couldn’t. I still had time. There was a large gathering in a room outside of my door. They were employees, friends and family who had assembled to process their grief and remember a special lady. I went out into the room and struck up a conversation with a woman with short, red, curly hair, sitting alone in the corner on a built in bench. Her name was Trixie. And I couldn’t help but notice the detailed flowers painted on her very long nails. As the conversation went along, I just came out with it. “Why did you do it? I asked. 

“Do what?”

“Why did you kill her?” I grabbed her hand to look for stains leftover from cheap gloves, like the print on the bookcase. I wanted to catch her red handed. But, when looked at her palms they were clean. Darn! She must have washed them. As she pulled her hand away, there was no denying that scratch, the very same one I felt in the hallway. She was the culprit! But how could they convict anyone with so little evidence? Nails weren’t enough, I’d have to get a confession.

“I didn’t,” she replied. 

She was going to be tough to crack. “Was it because of her boyfriend?” I prodded.

“She had a boyfriend?” she retorted.

“I don’t know.” I had to admit. “I was just trying to get a motive.” I could tell this was going nowhere. “Well, I have no proof and no evidence. No one, would believe me anyway. Why don’t you just tell me why? I really just want to know. I won’t tell anyone.” I declared.

“I did love her boyfriend” admitted Trixie.

“So it was you! I knew it!” I said with satisfaction. But she had trusted me and my vow, I couldn’t turn her in now. I quickly thought it over. Surely, this was an isolated incident. It was a crime of passion, not to be duplicated… and besides, it was done. But (I reasoned with myself), what if she did strike again? How could I ever live with myself, knowing I had let a murderer go free? “I’m sorry, I lied to you” I said as I grabbed her and held her toward the large assembly in the room. “It was Trixie!” I stated loudly to everyone, realizing that I didn’t know her last name. “Trixie… “ I said again in such a lingering way as to let everyone know that I needed help filling in the blank. As I looked around the faces in the room, it was evident nobody else knew her last name either. “No one knows her last name?” I questioned. The room stayed quiet as I tried to meet all of their eyes one by one. A few people swiveled their heads from side to side indicating they did not. Awkward. At least I had the villain in hand, or did I? I looked down in my arms to realize I wasn’t actually holding Trixie, but a bag of pita chips. How did she escape? That slippery scoundrel! I caught her out of the corner of my eye making an escape out the front door. I quickly darted after her. I couldn’t let her get away again! Of course, it was raining outside as I gave chase. Naturally, I wasn’t wearing shoes… so I braced myself for the cold wet plunge as I lunged at her. And that was it. I had her in custody and the police would be coming to take her away soon. (I assume.)

That was when I woke up. My son was calling my name from his bunk bed on the other end of the camper. His mosquito bites were itching and driving him nuts. And since I was up, I figured I might as well jot down the caper.

Ben & Jerry’s gives me the weirdest dreams…

It had been raining all night, and my feet were cold since they had come uncovered. But the pita chips? That was a mystery.

The end.