My brothers new baby.
-
it'sjustwork.it'sjustwork.it'sjustwork.it'sjustfurniture.it'sjustfurniture.it'sjustfurniture.
more wine, please. -
Miss Ruby and her snake / Kisses from Rubes
Ruby's latest game: In the middle of the night, she ventures out from the warmth of the bed and locates her favorite toy–'Blue', the three-foot-long stuffed snake, dragging it back into the bed with her (with us I should say). The snake is sans-head and some stuffing, always slightly damp with drool. In other words, beloved.
It's one thing to wake each morning with a warm ball of pup at your hip, quite another to find a partly-chewed snake on your chest. -
Mom and Bert update, including a pic, from fantastic Charlotte in Antibes!
-
I just spent an hour in the grocery store (could you guess?) and I am in the depths of depression. I usually single-girl shop at the local "gourmet" grocery store and the deli across the street. Portions are reasonable (where else can you buy one pork chop?), the fresh produce is respectable and they have some familiar foods from frenchieland that I would otherwise miss. What little cooking I know, I learned there, with those ingredients, so I enjoy having them. And they have cheese. Real cheese.
However, in a recent drive to save pennies (for a car, oh the pun!), I've decided to cut back my somewhat luxurious food budget. Into the Fred Meyer I go.
What a mistake. You know what I really noticed? Not one single human being anywhere near the food. Oh shoppers and cell-chatters sure, but service people? No. No butcher. No deli person. No cheese man. Even the humans at check out have been eliminated: U-Scan.
I looked hard, but didn't see much food either. Only plastic. Everywhere I looked, everything packaged, boxed and wrapped in plastic. Vacuum-sealed, sealed for my protection, economy-packed, you name it.
Call me crazy, but I want an aproned man touching my chops before he wraps them. In paper. The car can wait. -
in Starbucks: "You gotta put your finger way up in there."
corner of Burnside and 21st: "I didn't call no goddamn Middle East!"
in Fred Meyer grocery store: "Damn, they got Gatorade still for 99 cents. Tight."
in Fred Meyer grocery store: "The cat peed all over the damn place."
in Fred Meyer grocery store: "I don't care if you ARE late."
Cell phones (and their loud, obnoxious public over-use) have made overhearing more interesting. -
Latest pictures of little Stella. My favorite? Her in a new dress and sunhat made by Auntie Kate, of course.
-
As this subject pertains in a small way to my work, I have to tread lightly here. Let's just say, that for work purposes of the networking/chatting people up nature, I recently attended a local event showcasing the latest in home building and aspirational living. Let's call it SNOT.
The grand opening SNOT event was Black Tie. After parking in a rocky, dusty field, we trudged in our Black Tie attire up to an entrance adorned with balloon arches. Next to the balloon arches; porta-potties. Classy.
We were attended to by 12 year old ticket takers. Twelve year olds were a dominant feature in this event–as greeters, ticket takers, servers, escorts. Sunburned adolescent girls in too-tight prom dresses seeing to the needs of the so-called movers and shakers of the community, picture it. Jail bait seals many a real estate deal.
The designated mingling, drinking and eating area was a gravely, dusty bit of road strewn with food tents and white plastic Walmart tables and chairs. I'm reminded of Walleye Weekend, only fishing enthusiasts don't wear bugle beads.
SNOT Opening Gala goers, having dished out $100 per person to attend, were treated to hot-lunch line trays of unidentified asian-esque stirfry and bbq chicken wings. Yum.
Next, a self-guided tour of SNOT's Dream Homes. Dream Homes include the following features:
-orange-peel wall finishes (walls should hurt when you brush up against them)
-top-of-the-line plastic moldings, windowsills, and door frames
-hollow-core laminate doors available only at the big box hardware stores
-room layouts that make the most of 20 ft ceilings and the least of 5000 square feet
-kitchens that take 20 minutes to circumnavigate (by the time you find the sink, your pizza is done!)
-Butler's Pantries for the butler you'd never have because it's not pc
-a laundry room big enough to house that stray migrate worker family
-on the second floor, nylon wall-to-wall carpeting to soften the sounds of your desperate wailing
-'wood' laminate flooring in the public areas so visitors know that you really are classy
-faux-finished cabinetry throughout
-for 1 million more, you can have the faux-Tuscan look complete with wall murals of a place you've never visited because the people don't speak English
-three-SUV garages
-outstanding examples of both The Roofline Museum and The Window Museum (guaranteed minimum of five varying rooflines and a minimum of eight, count 'em eight!, different window shapes)
-swimming pools that you can use four whole a weeks of every year!
-a stunning, expansive view of the proof of our progress: power lines
-oversized, professional-grade kitchen appliances that say "I could really cook if I knew how".
-Master Bedroom Suites featuring a drop-down big screen television set over the bed, complete with thundering surround sound (it's so much easier to ignore a lacking sex life with surround sound)
-a matching big-screen 'theater room' to numb the little ones into submission
All this for a mere 3 million dollars.
My little 500 square feet in the city has never looked better. So glad to be home. -
I had the good fortune to attend two different events at the lovely Berry Botanic Garden this month.
I found my Chris Craft photo in one of the cutsey boutiques in the Sellwood neighborhood. I also added another fine piece to my OPP (Other People's Pottery) collection.
My front walk has been free of meth-head debris for a week.
Ruby has a new playmate, Lucy (a shy Dalmation-Border Collie mix), in the building.
The weather has been holding at sunny and warm; I've worn a sundress on five occasions. The white linen capri pants have been laundered.
I've had the opportunity to view how the other half lives (and aspires to live) and was reminded of just how much I like my urban, walking, apartment-living lifestyle. I hate the word 'lifestyle', but in lieu of something better, that works. More on this topic later.
My plants have not died.
I've discovered Marionberries. -
