Garden Party

Last night we went to a garden party - a Laughing Squid production that was called "Paradise Lost." It was probably the closest we'll ever get to the middle of the desert event known as Burning Man. It was at Flora Grubb Gardens - a fancy garden shop in a bad neighborhood, where there is actually enough room to have oversize lot full of "exceptional plants and furnishings." Our friend Dr. Robby Virus was performing with his snazzy combo Project Pimento -- how could we miss such an event?


It was lots of fun - along with the hypnotic sounds of Project Pimento, there were flame throwing contraptions, steam powered vehicles, people wearing hula skirts, micro-brewed beer and coffee, comedy routines, friendly old people (hooray!), a Photoboof, light-sabre nerds -- all smack dab in the middle of "exceptional plants and furnishings." We missed Mrs. Virus, but she was kicking up her heels in the UK (and she has seen Project Pimento way more times than we have!)

Speaking of the happy kicking up of heels - it was two years ago that we were having some of that action in St. Paul, MN at the joyous wedding celebration of the Librarian and her legally wed sweetheart. There was no flame-throwing (whew) but there was crazy fun with longtime friends and delicious cupcakes. There are always lots of fancy words spoken on the subject of love at these sorts of events, and some extra special good ones on this happy occasion. The librarian and her sweetheart have proven all of these fancy words to be true (which is a rare and precious thing indeed.)

Happy Anniversary to the Librarian and her sweetheart!

Pumpkin View

Mrs. Kittle

There are times when I use a funny alias at work (and elsewhere) that I've used since the "Heads Gone Astray" days at WLHA student radio at UW-Madison. At the time it was selected for it's mass-market mediocre music value -- a perfect match when attached to someone who played music on the radio that was the exact opposite of what it represented.

However, twice in the last week I've been asked if "Kittle" was my married name or my "maiden" name. I find myself explaining a series of bad music compilations released in the 1980's to whippersnappers who have no idea of what I'm talking about. "You know!" I say. They don't.

Not to bring anyone down, but that's how old we are.

Just call me Mrs. Kittle.

Wednesday View

Sunday View

Peaches & Beans

Saturday we woke up in a crazy money spending mood and decided to visit the fancy Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market downtown (instead of our usual low-rent neighborhood regular folks farmer's market that is just a few blocks away from our house.) The produce may be more expensive, but the waterfront view is much nicer than the intersection of Highways 101 and 280. There was even an old clipper ship sailing on the bay!

Our goal was to spend next week's lunch money on peaches. Super fabulous perfect picked at the exact second of ripening and hand carried in velvet gloves (to prevent bruising) straight into the hands of the wealthy people peaches. We didn't even glance at all other peaches there that looked just as perfect -- we headed straight to Frog Hollow Farms. I think this makes us more spendthrift than wealthy.


We gave them all our money, and they gave us a few perfect "summer lady" variety peaches. Later the Chef added lemongrass, romano beans and chicken and turned them into a summertime dinner salad. He is magic!

Underhill Lounge

You can find the Chef hanging about at the Underhill Lounge.

Pelvis Party

Many of Haus Frau's favorite pals celebrate birthdays in June & July. I must like Crabs.

Today is Rodeo Queen's birthday. To celebrate her recovery from the welcome-to-the-new-year-get-tossed-off-a-horse incident, she threw a pelvis party on Saturday!

Here she is beaming with hip swiveling health wearing a bright bougainvillea hula skirt. I think Recovered Rodeo Queen is the only person I know who can pull off a bougainvillea hula skirt.

The pelvis x-ray cake was delicious --


And there was much pelvis-related Elvis about the house --

Happy Birthday to Rodeo Queen and may the healing continue. We would do all the helping again in a heart beat because your pelvis well-being is important to us.

(It's also "Frank's" birthday today, but since he doesn't throw theme parties there are no pictures. Happy birthday "Frank"!)

Librarian Birthday

Hooray for the Librarian for today is her birthday!

We wish you heaps of every day memories, even keels and a non-urgent ho hum, sit on the porch with your sweetheart sort of day.

(and a vegan cupcake for two with a bright candle)

Late Lips

Excuse my boasting, but last year I had the opportunity to "be flown" to Oklahoma City to do this cool rock star thing. Still in shock after my overnight trip there and back, I muttered about my kooky fantasy experience to a few people, but the final production was never released. I was perplexed, because I thought it had turned out (ahem) fantastico. They said it was "tied up in legal." My paranoid interpretation was that maybe it hadn't turned out so, er, fantastico. Months passed and I began to think it was just a hallucination. Right down to the OKC studio where this interview was recorded.

File under "better late than never" or make that "Who the hell cares when it will be added? I got to hang out with Wayne Coyne for an afternoon!"

Heaps of thanks to Cameo for this brush with a dazzling personality. When she called to ask me to do this, my actual response was, "Hello? Is this the Make-A-Wish Foundation?"

Rowan

Hey look! My Montana-bear-saving-lawyer cousin Ronni had one of those cute pink wrinkly things explode from her stomach, just four days ago.

His name is Rowan.

Clink!

Happy Birthday MB!

Upswing

I talked to Dr. Sally this morning and she reported that she is (finally) on the upswing after a lengthy horribleness involving post-surgery complications. The first thing she said was, "I didn't want to tell you because we had so much fun in San Francisco!" I completely understand this rationale, but I assured her that her slow recovery story does not tarnish the fun we had with her family in April. Never! The lesson she has learned is that the longer you refrain from telling people your depressing news, the longer the story gets each time you have to finally spill it. She sounded well enough to laugh about that, which is very good indeed.

Today is a better day and tonight is Girl Geek (and the Chef) Meeting #3 -- we are going to watch the Roky Erickson documentary "You're Gonna Miss Me" unless Polyvinyl Chloride makes us watch the Slade movie (eek!). I'm also planning to force upon them the recent live performance from Robyn Hitchcock on the Henry Rollins show. It's even better online w/the interview where he testifies that old indie rockers chugging away are no longer thought of as "a pervert squad".

I think I have finally recovered from the mid-week hot dog excitement -- although you can understand why the pictures below ruined me for the rest of the work week.

The Chef grilling in our backyard jungle!

There is a woman who works at the grocery store in our neighborhood who brought in this corn from her family farm --- it was almost as good as the summertime corn we get in Wisconsin.

The Chef wouldn't be the Chef if he hadn't concocted a special red, white & blue cocktail for the occasion -- taken from the "Strawberry Tapioca Soda" recipe that was recently in the NYTimes.

Although, um, next time we'll skip the crunchy Tapioca hazard of this drink and just stick w/ the champagne, sorbet and berries.

Can you believe I had to go back to work the next day after all of this patriotic gluttony? Next year I'll mark off my calendar as "Very busy with hot dog/potato salad/corn on the cob recovery."

Crappy Day

The happy mid-week holiday has thrown a wrench into my week and has made me unable to focus on the whole "get back to work" attitude that I have been embracing in my new job. I've been loving my new completely insane and incredibly amazing job, but today I felt CRANKY and hated the world and wanted to go home and eat another hot dog. Why did I have to stop eating hot dogs and go back to work? Why do I have to go to another meeting about changing the world when just a few days ago I was eating hot dogs and drinking beer?

I spent the morning muttering expletives at my giant flat screen monitor each time I received a disagreeable e-mail. Also be aware that if I hear anyone on the phone saying things like "We're going to hit this one out of the ballpark" or other baseball metaphor bullshit, you are lucky that I don't jump over the desk and strangle you. I'm not sure why, but when I'm grumpy, this kind of positive can-do lingo drives me completely insane. Each time I heard it I would madly IM the Chef with "Can you believe that?!" and "I can't STAND THIS ANYMORE!" He knows not to argue with me about the realistic level of this kind of annoyance.

When I got home I received an e-mail from my mom - one that made me close it right away and then pretend I hadn't received it. More people are sick. Goddammit. I swore at the e-mail and then at my mom for sending it to me, even though the e-mail and my mom are not to blame for bad news. I thought, "Why doesn't she withhold bad news from me? Doesn't she know that I have no coping skills and that she is the reason to blame?!"

Tonight the Chef and I pretended that it was still a holiday and ate leftover hot dogs and potato salad and watched "Kitchen Stories", a funny little Swedish movie about the simple things in life. Tomorrow I will call Dr. Sally and make sure that she is okay. It just takes me a while to get used to the idea of sad things, but I know it's important to be there for people when they happen.

Happy Fourth of July!

The Chef and I are marching around singing "We Love Our Flag" (a patriotic favorite written by my Mom) and wishing we were at Camp Laf-A-Lot with family and friends.

Tonight we will be walking up to the top of Bernal Hill to watch the illegal fireworks explode in The Mission, but our hearts will be floating on Lake Kawaguesaga.

Happy Fourth of July to all the Laf-A-Lot campers near and far!

Ratattouie

Speaking of children (and still not speaking of cats -- just rats) this afternoon the Chef and I went to see a crowded matinee showing of the new foodie Pixar movie "Ratattouie."

There were lots of children in the theater, but everyone made loud noises in appropriate places. It reminded us that sometimes it's fun to see a movie in a crowded theater and not just from a sofa seat at home.

Thumbs up, way up -- we recommend seeing this movie in the middle of the day with lots and lots of children in attendance, because it will make you smile that the adults will still make the biggest gasps, laughs and huzzahs.

Accomplishments

Tonight I hung out with a bunch of friends who are moms, and I never once compared their children to my cats, not even when they talked about how their babies kept trying to destroy their record collections. I just smiled and nodded and didn't mention cats. When I got home I told the Chef all about it and he was very impressed that I was so restrained.

Do the Whirlwind!

Recent Discoveries:

Jackfruit tastes like Juicyfruit gum, except better because you can swallow it instead of spit out, thus it won't get stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

Sock monkeys make people loosen up and laugh.



If you avoid drinking Absinthe and switch to Aviations, your head will still hurt the next day.

Architecture in Helsinki have embraced a new Salt n' Pepa style 80's sound -- jury still out on this drum machine twist.

Who knew (at my age) I'd find myself obsessed with animated characters from Norway who drink beer, kids in Oakland on Scraper bikes (thanks DJ BC) and dogs wearing wigs. Mid life crisis alert?

Combining flamenco dancing with hip hop beats is a nice mix - especially when you get to see it performed live, from a balcony seat (away from a flailing crowd.)

When you get out on the sidewalk and start mocking someone's mad dancing skillz, you will most certainly whack your hand against a mailbox and make it bleed. Ouch. I deserved that.

If the Tracy Jordan character from "30 Rock" moved to Brazil and joined a band, he would sound like Carolinos Brown (who surrounds himself with dancing girls wearing sailor hats and a Spinal Tap-esque backdrop of two huge blue blow up kissing fish.) The video is subdued in comparison.

Even if I stay in my pajamas all morning it won't slow down the weekend.

Happy Birthday Irish Goddess!

Even though the Irish Goddess is celebrating her birthday ALL MONTH (it's true) today is actually her real birthday. June 13th -- the day she was born to unleash her acerbic wit, endless talents and scary smarts upon the world. Irish Goddess has always been an inspiration to me, starting in Junior High and then high school when she stomped through the smoking section between the two buildings and didn't give a fig if idiots yelled cowardly things in her direction. I thought -- I want to be like that! I want to be myself and tell everyone else to piss off! Irish Goddess has always been punk rock (despite her favorite band being the Rolling Stones.)

Even though she lives far away, it's been a joy to be part of her world and keep in touch with her via pictures and stories and shout outs in the comments section. She showed me how this sort of modern day communication makes sense and inspired me to start this thing.

Thanks Irish Goddess -- and HAPPY BIRTHDAY (MONTH)!

(maybe this weekend I'll dig through boxes and find some picture of us wearing braces and threaten to post it here.)

Shrimp Bombe

On Sunday the Rodeo Queen (in recovery) and the Great & Powerful Oz (so true) invited us to a Shrimpfest fundraiser feast -- with special guests the White Boot Brigade ( "a group of Louisiana shrimpers working to preserve the Gulf's culinary heritage through sustainable shrimping and alternative marketing.") It only took us two seconds to yell "YES" and give up all our money to those slow food shrimpers. Lots of other people were also interested in shrimp (go figure!) and when we arrived it was a bit of a mad house, with people who were told to wait out on the patio deciding to fend for themselves and returning with big plates of boiled wild shrimp and giant mounds of corn and green beans (my favorite). We were taught tricks by the determined women at the patio table next to us and then we passed those tricks on to others (and we all ended up happily well-fed.)


The Chef will be the first to tell you that I don't like shrimp. I especially hate those frozen pink blobs that are served over the holidays with red sauce and presented on iceberg lettuce like it's some kind of special treat. Is this a sad, we-live-far-away-from-the-ocean, Midwestern tradition? Blech! However, this shrimp was so wild it jumped out of the water with tail and tentacles intact. I still can't say I enjoy the messy decapitation part and then there is the uh, other thing, that middle bit that shall not be mentioned. (I still feel queasy.) However, listening to New Orleans Jazz and surrounded by good hearted people, I leapt right into the shrimp eating fun. I know that the Great & Powerful Oz felt the same way because she started eating corn, until the Rodeo Queen (in recovery) reminded her that she was allergic.


Afterwards we convinced TRQ (IR) and TG&PO to join us for ice cream at ICI because we were in the East Bay and felt like it was something we had to do since we DROVE ALL THAT WAY ACROSS THE BRIDGE and we had never been there. We had only see pictures of their fancy ice cream sandwiches in the newspaper. We faced another long line, this one of east bay ice cream eaters. I followed the Rodeo Queen (in recovery)'s "OMG THE APRICOT! THE APRICOT!" suggestion and (of course) she was so right. ICI also served giant fantasy meringue ice cream "bombe" things, which made me go all ice cream heaven hysterical frenchie "Bohmb, Bohmb, Bohmb"until the Great & Powerful Oz countered with her ice cream heaven hysterical American "Bahm! Bahm! It's Bahm!" Then we doubled dared each other to blog about it. Do I win? hee hee.

This it NOT your neighborhood ice cream parlor. Bombe (looks like just a section of it) in upper right hand corner.