Happy Halloween

This little Dinosaur also accompanied her Halloween costume with lots of ROARING, which I thought very appropriate, especially for a girl.

About five years ago, The Chef and I discovered that on Halloween, in the Castro/Mission, NO ONE goes out to eat. Too busy getting the elaborate costume together, answering the doorbell, OR avoiding the entire party-central hot spot. Thus, each year we pick a usually crowded no reservations type restaurant and get in without a wait. On our stroll home we can watch some of the Halloween parade but not get crushed in the crowds. It's almost like we partied in the Castro, but we just had to eat dinner and walk home. Note that an estimated 300,000 people showed up last year, so you can see how um, well, we had to get home and watch "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown."

This year we picked Pizzeria Delfina, which only has five tables. Only a few were taken when we arrived. The pizza was good, the music was bad (Bon Jovi?) and there were a few good costumes (great beehive hairdo fellow diner!) However, most of the good earlybird costumes were on kids -- and we had to get back to Bernal Heights for the full rush. It was more fun last year at Ti Couz. They gave candy to their customers to GIVE OUT to kids who are trick or treating at neighborhood businesses. I think that's been our only opportunity to hand out candy to trick or treaters since we moved to San Francisco. Yep, Ti Couz really has it together for lazy voyeurs who want to experience the joys of Halloween without getting too involved.

Ubu Roi

Toothy McPumpkinHead

Pumpkin Weekend

A good weekend for drinking pumpkin beer, eating pumpkin ice cream, and carving up my pumpkin from Half Moon Bay (picked from the patch to the left a few weekends ago.)

The Chef may even make pumpkin mole for dinner tomorrow.

Pumpkins rule!

John Peel

In honor of John Peel -- listen to The Undertones "Teenage Kicks" and then something completely different, perhaps a selection from his magic box. Today is the two year anniversay of his way-too-soon death.

It was the perfect evening to watch John Peel Night on BBC 4 - I still had been hoarding the package of DVDs from London that the wonderful Marybeth had sent me ages ago. My odd reasoning was that if I watched it right away that I wouldn't have any John Peel anything to look forward to anymore. So, at last, we had our own John Peel night and we watched the DVDs. The good news is that we haven't gotten through all the discs yet -- and the BBC tribute made me happy to see legions of nerdy Peel fans, from Stuart Murdoch to Nick Cave, all in awe.

Following that, we watched the hilarious BBC documentary "The Fall: The Wonderful and Frightening World of Mark E Smith." Amazing.

Marybeth also enclosed an article from The Guardian titled "Excuse me, weren't you in the Fall?" where they tried to track down every past member of the band since its inception. Funny to think how we were all kept waiting that night after the Milwaukee show because of that irresistible Steve Hanley. Ha!

Thanks to Marybeth for sending me the John Peel Night treasures!

Birthday King

This weekend the Chef had a birthday. We took a drive down south where we climbed on some (fit for a king) giant rocks. Then we went to a foo-foo-fancy-pants restaurant for a special birthday dinner.

Tra La La

Sixteen years ago, The Chef asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. The movie was "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and it's probably the antithesis of a "date" movie. Not even probably. Afterwards, The Chef apologized profusely, which I found charming. He insisted on buying me a drink to make up for all the disturbing Hubert Selby seediness. We ended up sitting outside the entrance to the Plaza (it was too crowded) and we talked and talked and talked and talked until the bar closed and they shooed us away.

It turned out to be a great date movie.

The Front Porch

Our new favorite neighborhood restaurant. Not only do they have tasty Southern-style comfort food and friendly service, but last night we dined to a non-stop soundtrack by The Clash.

Bake cookies and stay inside

During my lunch hour, I drove The Chef back to work to spare him from the MUNI bus. The Chef had just gotten two cavities filled. After the last sixteen years (!), I've noticed a pattern in the Chef's behavior -- whenever things aren't going well, he likes to make it worse. Thus, after putting off bothersome things, sometimes for YEARS, he likes to make appointments with the dentist and roofing contractors when life is particularly difficult. That way, he doesn't have to wonder about how many cavities he has (three) or if we really need a new roof (the contractor crawled up there last week and we do! Goodbye $$$.) So, The Chef has lots of appointments lately, and still one more cavity to be filled. There is drilling to look forward to and a great lack of money to commit to having things fixed.

On my way home, I decided to cheer myself up by stopping at the record store. Not just any record store, but Amoeba Records. I'm lucky because I live here and get to go there whenever I want to buy a record! I heart Amoeba.

My friend Derrick was working, so I had the good fortune to stand around with him in the aisles, distracting him from work by reminiscing about the Midwest and how nice the air smells there in October. Derek told me about growing up in Chicago, and how his family wanted him to be tougher but he just didn't swing that way. When he was a kid he wore an Elton John T-shirt and liked to stay inside and bake cookies with his mom. Derek says he grew up in "the ghetto" which (for some reason) makes the Elton John T-shirt, baking cookies and staying inside story even sweeter. It was a treat to hang out in the aisles at Amoeba and listen to him tell stories about his family, and his mom, who still lives in Chicago.

His new band is called Ultraset

I purchased new CDS from the Decemberists (cheap used copy!) and Portastatic's "Be Still Please." When Derrick and I were talking about EMO (the bad kind) he ran and got me a used copy of a Bright Eyes advance CD that was hidden in the back room (YAY!) Then I had to explain to him the difference between the good (Bright Eyes) and bad (Hawthorne Heights) emo. He also recommended two other used discs to me -- Brookville and El Perro Del Mar, so I immediately bought them because I know they'll be dreamy indie pop sweetness -- that's the kind of stuff that Mr. not-so-tough digs.

I also picked up a few CDs for The Chef, to counterbalance the cavities, but his birthday isn't until Sunday, so he'll have to wait.

Dragon Fruit

Dragon Fruit is a very exotic fruit. It seems like it should only be eaten on episodes of Star Trek. Even better, legend has it that it was created by fire-breathing dragons! Although I had never seen one before, I discovered it comes in many different varieties, including one called David Bowie, a slender white variety that has a sweet and tangy flavor.

We had no idea what was going on inside the Dragon Fruit, but one night we had our friends Catherine & Robby Virus over for dinner. We all drank a lot and decided to cut it open. Strangely, we all agreed, it tasted a lot like spoonfuls of..nothing. We think ours was a Harpua, because it's described as "semi-sweet" and if so, ours was "semi semi semi semi-sweet." Perhaps it would have been better chilled.


I had a hard time taking a picture of the gelantinous speckled nothing stuff because I had been drinking and was laughing so hard. The blurry photo to the left was my third attempt, and it's still blurry.

Dragon Fruit is a very exotic fruit.

Alex Trebek

Who is, a giganto (and super cuddly) cat who lives in our neighborhood?

Alex Trebek!

We took care of him this weekend.

Check out the size of dat paw.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Last month sucked. So many awful things happened in a short period of time, that I was convinced that I had stumbled upon a curse. I called it "The Curse of Inconveniences." Of course, some things were worse than that, but as I've learned, the worse the situation, the less likely it is that it will be mentioned. Let's just discuss the inconveniences. It's Friday the 13th, which seems appropriate.

1) The Chef's father is very sick. We cancel our plans to attend my cousin's wedding in Montana to fly to Arizona to visit him.
2) Awful Awful let's not discuss.
3) We fly back home. The Chef's stomach hurts. We spend the afternoon at Kaiser, the doctor thinks The Chef has appendicitis. The Chef has lots of tests, drinks banana flavored barium, and is wrist tagged as an incoming surgery patient but, he escapes with his appendix intact. However, something "funny" is discovered on the CT-Scan. That means it's not funny at all. Let's not discuss.
3) The next evening we make dinner. We discover our oven won't turn off. It's very hot, and we are frantic that we will burn the house down. We unplug the oven and attempt to turn off the gas, but we can't, the "gas off" knob hits the wall. We call PG&E and an "emergency" guy comes to our house so he can inform us that we will not die from being gassed to death in our sleep. (the upside - he is happy that we are an easy problem.)
4) Awful Awful let's not discuss, I drive the Chef to the airport so he can go back to Arizona.
5) I am home alone. At 5pm the power goes out in our neighborhood. What the f*&#k? I sit in the dark with my flashlight, but at 8pm it comes back on. I still clutch the flashlight all evening.
6) 2am, phone call, awful awful let's not discuss.
7) In the morning, I take a bus to BART to go the airport. Within a block of the station the bus is stopped by police cars. There is a bomb threat at the BART station. The police officer tells me to "walk around to the other side." That means THIRTY MINUTES running with my luggage in a strange neighborhood, getting lost and then having to walk OVER the freeway on a bridge like thing, only to discover that on the other side the BART station is CLOSED due to previously known BOMB THREAT. I plead with two bus drivers, but they are not going near the airport. I stomp home with my luggage. I refuse to go to the airport and cry in front of strangers while waiting for a standby flight. I rebook my flight to Arizona for the NEXT day. I call The Chef hysterical, but another day spent with kittens helps a lot.
8) I get to Arizona for the funeral. There is something about testing the jet engine to make sure that it works in "high winds" but at that point, I don't even care.
9) awful sadness, the slo-motion kind, everyone has it. let's not discuss.
10) The day of the funeral, my watch stops working. Of course!
11) The day of the funeral, The Chef's sister loses her Scotty dog puppy. (note: pup found the next day at animal shelter. Holy Crap!)
12) The day of the funeral, we drive somewhere, anywhere to get out of the house. The "Check Engine" light goes on in the car. We hyperventilate worrying that the car will break down in the desert (later, we are told that light goes on all the time.)
13) We get home after a week of extreme sadness and black humoured hijinks. The next weekend we head to another memorial service.
14) The Supershuttle that is taking us to the airport goes to the WRONG ADDRESS. Again, I'm on the verge of hysterical, why can't I get to the airport?
15) The plane that is heading to our destination is having mechanical issues. blah blah blah. Delay delay delay.
16) After a week of loading up my portable "device" with "feel better" songs to listen to on the trip, within five minutes of being on the plane, it freezes and won't turn off. Broke. Thanks.
17) More mechanical problems in St. Louis, we are delayed an hour trying to get to Madison. We make use of our time in "the Lou" convinced that they are only playing Nelly in our terminal.
18) After more sadness and condolences, we fly back home without any delays (!). The next day K&M e-mail us, telling us that their oven stopped working last night, but now it's okay. I hope I haven't left my curse at their house.

Okay, lesson learned. I GET IT! Some things aren't as important as the bad things that won't be discussed. I can tolerate all the inconveniences, bring them on, just please cease with the horrible and awful.

The good news: today we got a letter in the mail from Kaiser. "Funny" thing on CT-Scan isn't as bad as the "bone expert" may have thought. Vitamin D and calcium will save us all.

Sometimes I think that if I just lived in a small town in Northern Wisconsin, absolutely nothing would happen to me at all, including the bad things. I know this isn't true, but I believe it.

I'm sleepee, call an ambulance. Happy Friday the 13th.

Butterfly Brigade and Blow Up Santas

Months ago, I tried to buy tickets to the Sufjan Stevens show in Berkeley, but it was already sold-out. Yesterday morning, I trolled Craig's List to see if anyone was selling their tickets. There were many evil doers asking the desperate to "name their price" but there was a post from someone selling them at face value, even minus a few ruthless ticket fee bucks. What the heck, I called and left a message. AMAZINGLY, the phone rang an hour later, asking me if I could come pick them up in the Mission. ZIP I went. I was pleased that the seller was a nice guy who seemed my age (or even older) which made me feel less freakish.

The Chef was a little worried that going out mid-week would cut into our couch-sitting-with-kittens time, but I convinced him that it would be worth it. Sufjan! Christians! Songs about the great state of Illinois! I threw in dinner at Chenery Park and we were off to the BART station.

The show was spectacular. My Brightest Diamond opened and (while I already was digging their debut CD) I was very impressed with the sheer force of Shara Worden's voice. If only she would enter and win "American Idol" with her cover of "Use Me." Then came Sufjan and orchestra dressed in butterfly wings, with the addition of the Pacific Mozart Ensemble ?!?! Throw in shimmering silver backdrop (with movie screen) , and a few blow up Santas and Supermans surrounding the speakers -- and, again, I felt lucky to be there. "Get a load of that!" I whispered to The Chef.

Highlights? The massive vocal choir wall of sound, songs about birds, stories about summer camp, big white nerdy tennis shoes, cello players, banjos and the painfully perfect "Casimir Pulaski Day."

During Sufjan's disfunctional family carol "That Was The Worst Christmas Ever" a hundred of the blow-up Santas came tumbling off the balcony above us. "Santas!" I happily exclaimed to The Chef.

There was another round of cascading blow-up Supermans during "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts" that were then bounced around by the audience like beach balls. Afterwards, Sufjan said that they had spent hours blowing them all up, and at the time it seemed that there were many more than were actually tossed. I wonder if they get a discount bulk rate on inflatables.

This morning I called and left another message for the guy who had to give up his tickets and thanked him again for being so nice as to 1) not scalp them and 2) allow us to have such an enchanting evening of music.

Clementine likes to PEEK.

This is Clementine.














She likes to PEEK.

Apple goes to the beach

We were given two apples (see below, K&M are nice) for our trip back to California. Chef E. was hungry and his apple complied. My apple joined us on a trip to Half Moon Bay and was happy to see the ocean.


Honey Crisp apples are delicious, and enjoy going on car trips (and plane rides.)

Visiting Cowell Ranch Beach always makes us feel better.

Autumn Below

I miss the leaves. Jump on a plane to O'Hare in October and you will get a big colorful dose of autumnal beauty (wow) right before the plane hits the runway. (If I had known about the big finish, I definitely wouldn't have taken twenty zillion pictures over Beloit.)

Leaves - check - now it's time to go home.

Hi, My Name is Lump

We like Kim & Matt. They let us stay at their house in Pardeeville, where we drank delicous beer, ate good food (Guinness cake!), and sat around a bonfire under a full moon.



Thanks Kim & Matt! You are nice.

Pork Shoulder and Jujube Fruit

Sometimes, Chef L'Erique gets these sorts of ideas into his head and we are very grateful for them. Who knew that JuJubes were something other than a movie candy that made your teeth stick together?

Delicious.