Can I Keep It?

Fresh

My life is getting in the way of my blogging.  

And Zali is not happy about it.  He raged on for a hour this morning bout how his people are missing him. Secretly, I think they'd miss Simone more, but I didn't tell him that.

You know it's hard to write a blog with a bird on your hand.  Who knew?

My garden is a weedy mess, so Boudreaux, Zali, Simone and I headed out in the heat to fix the situation.  Two hours later, it looked as if I had been inside reading a book.

Insert disappointed face here.

But the good news is that I discovered green beans!  Surprise!

* Pardon the picture.  I still can't find my camera cord, so I have to rely on my Stupid Phone

It sorely needs to take a lesson or two from some one's Smart Phone.

Insert smiley face here.

Hudson came home at noon.  I made him some pork and leek dumplings and turned the fresh find in the garden into Schezuan green beans with ground turkey and Ponzu rice.

Insert full stomach here.

And just so he'll quit dogging me -- here:

Zali in a compromising position.

But I know this is what you really want:

Simone gazing upon you in distain.

You are welcome.

Whew

The last couple of weeks Hud and I have been social butterflies.  Good thing he has a five day weekend coming up.  I need a rest. 

We photographed the Rhodes College graduation for one.  Went to a wedding at the Metals Museum for another.

The river is very high from all of the snow run off up north.  It's racing so fast that the barges going downstream disappeared in  a matter of minutes, while the ones travelling upstream?  Are probably still fighting the current six days later.

We went to a Gatsby Party, which was grand fun.  And my Art Deco jewelry got to go out for the evening, which it adored. Art Deco jewelry loves a good party.

Our friends, the Flowers.  Hud has known Calvin since they were babies, like sixty years.  Not being hyperbolic, even.  For reals.

We're having the house refinanced.  Zali and Simone were not impressed.  They had to go to jail for a few hours while the appraiser was here.

Muhzer! Wee are ze stressed owt!

I should have put Simone in her Thundershirt. Hud and I did Paws for a Cause a couple of weekends ago and I gave in and bought her one to ease her anxiety.  Two years ago, without warning, Simone became petrified of thunderstorms.  The slightest rumble would cause her to shake so terribly that I was afraid she'd rattle her teeth out of her head.  When I discovered her hiding behind the toilet after I got out of the shower, I knew that I had to try something.  And you know what?

EffingFunderCanBiteMe.GrowlAtSomebodyElse,AshullSky.

It works!  

The Thundershirt doesn't completely put her at ease, but during yesterday's storms, she merely panted a few times.  No shaking!  Simone even managed a nap during a particularly strong line of storms.  I may get one for Boudreaux.  Zoe didn't teach him how to catch a ball like an Olympian, but she did transfer her fear of the vacuum cleaner.

And we went to bunch and lunches with a variety of friends.  That's about enough, isn't it?

Well, there is this:

A baby Fig Parrot.  From Zooborns.com.

You are welcome.

Mon Petit Chou

Today was lovely.  A soft warm breeze, slightly overcast, quiet. Finally spring-like!

Hud and I started planting the garden yesterday, so today, the kids and I soldiered on without him.

We weeded the bed in front of the Shicken.  Simone was of great assisstance. 

You could probably tell from the dirt in her ruff that she is quite handy at hole digging.  In fact, she majored in it as a undergrad.

Boudreaux was...Boudreaux.  He splashed across the pool cover, leapt over brick walls and fencing, around the backyard, under the azaleas, over the pool deck and into the garden with a crashing stop at my hunched over body. 

Bou hab eggsellent adbenture. Gardening pffun.

It was all going very well until I turned to ask Zali how he was getting along with the weeding and discovered that he had dug up one of my newly planted cabbages!  He had chomped it down to the roots.

Whut? Eet wuz zee qualitee cuntroll, Muhzer!

Now, I knew he and Simone could not be trusted with broccoli, but cabbages?!?! Le sigh. He looks remorseful, but I had to stop him from murdering the rest of the crop, the little buggar.  That's the look of a guilty man, not a sorry one.  No wait. Guilty and sorry. That's more like it.

Time of death - 10:39.  Farewell, mon petit chou.  I hardly knew ye. 

Bou and Simone took the death seriously and decided to be on their best behavior for the remainder of the outing. Zali went up to the house, pouting.  He stayed by the back door yipping to go in.  Seems I had spoiled all his fun.  

I finished planting cucumbers, beets, bush beans and Thai eggplant.  The three of us joined him at the door when it was time to start making lunch.

A very fine spring morning, inspite of the carnage.

 

 

Fiddy-one

Yesterday was my birthday!  

I turned the page on fifty and became fifty-one at six thirty-two in the morning.  I'm one of those people who rejoices in their birthday, always happy to be older.  I'm quite sure that at some point in the coming year, I will start referring to myself as fifty-two.  Yes, I round up.  It started on my thirty-ninth birthday.  As my age came up and I told it, the person asking would respond with a wink, "How many years will that be?"  BAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  You' re a laugh riot.  So I started saying that I was forty.  The reply was always swift and always the same, "OH!  You really don't look it!"

Le sigh.

So I round.  I round up.  It's my thing. Pretty soon, I'm going to start saying that I'm sixty.  'Cause I look unbelievable for sixty! Hey!  I look awful for twenty-eight.  But sixty?  Hawt.

I like to do new things on my birthday and this year, at the Memphis Zoo, they have a new temporary exhibit, Sting Ray Bay.  Why would I go to the zoo when I live in one you ask?  They have animals there.  Duh. As one of the few animals I have never touched, we went to feed the sting rays!

Scary right?  Okay.  True confessions?  I have a fear of large fish.  And some of these were three feet in diameter.  Because they are trained for this, these animals loved to be touched. They fly around the edges of the tank, gliding under your outstretched hand.  Surprisingly, the sting rays weren't sand paper-like as I expected.  You know, like a shark's skin.  They felt soft and fleshy.  A baby's butt.  Very unusual.  The luck of my birthday had us arrive at feeding time!  (11:00-12:00 and 2:00-3:00, I believe)

I screwed my courage to the sticking place and bought a cup of sardines and shrimp.  You place the fish between your fingers in the middle of your palm and hold the palm flat.  Stick your hand into the water and they swarm you as they smell it. The one who wins the prize is the one that reaches you first, slides up your palm and sucks the fish out of your hand!  It's thrilling and frightening and ohhhh! I can't wait to do it again!

As a bonus, the bears were all very active and enjoying the weather.  The pandas were in the outdoor enclosure for a change. Instead of snoozing indoors, reared up on a pile of bamboo, looking like they need a beer and a remote in either paw.

I know.  He was walking around and everything.  Exciting.  You just don't understand.

And the grizzlies were catching trout in their river, play fighting and eating.

He was ginormous.

We went to one of my favorite places, Dejavu and had the boudin, Big Easy Pasta and Bananas Foster  Cheesecake.  Let that sink in.  Bananas. Foster. Cheesecake. To die for.  Then we headed on over to the movie theatre in midtown and saw Silver Linings Playbook.

And Hud gave me a little diamond Eiffel Tower to waer around my neck to remind me that we'll always have Paris.

Fifty-one may not be so bad.  I might call it for the whole year. 

Joyeux Mardi Gras!

A couple of weeks ago, Hud and I made our annual trip down to Slidell to walk with our krewe in Mona Lisa and Moon Pie for Mardi Gras! This year's theme was Dance! Mona! Dance!

We drove down on Friday.  Got there just in time to go to Charlotte's nephew's restaurant in Old Town Slidell.  Oooooowee.  Chris can cook.

Oysters!

Crab cakes!

Onion soup!

Cioppino!

Duck!

Eggplant!

Oh, it was all so very good. He also made a special dessert of chocolate bread pudding.  Heaven.

The next day was parade day.  We always do a lot of running around getting ready for the walk.  It's a rarity for Slidell, but our parade happens at night. So we light the parade with flambeaux.  They have to be taken to staging.  You know, the last minute things that you have to do.  Like putting the finishing touches on your dragon.

 

 

Charlotte put the dragon together with the help of her friend, Barbara.  I'm going down on the train next year a week early to help Charotte make whatever it is we are next year.  I made all of the hats, though.  That dragon just wan't going to fit in the Mustang.  It sure did make it easy to get dressed this year!  We wore black so we would not be a distration from the main event - The Chinese Dragon Dance.

Our famed chef, Chris Case, in his Flambeaux attire.

Then it was time to line up and go for a stroll, chucking Moonpies to the masses!

'

Tom's children, Sherry and Tommy were our Flambeaux carriers. Time to start!  We began with sparklers...

Beacuse the weather was gorgeous, the crowds turned out in droves.  I haven't seen it this big!  I knew I'd have to hoard my Moonpies to make it till the end.

Moonpie! Moonpie! Throw me somethin', Mister!

Oh! We had a great time.  The Krewe threw over thirty thousand Moonpies.  It wasn't enough.  Lots of the krewe had to do the walk of shame  on the final few blocks.  But not me!  I saved some to the people at the end of the line.  Heeeee.

Whew.  We did another one.  Tomorrow will be fun.

Il Pluie

Okay, so that afternoon, we took the Metro all the way out to Pere Lachaise Cemetary.  What?  Lots of famous folks are buried there and I love a good cemetary.  Along the way we ran into this fish market in the middle of nowhere with all of this gorgeous product.

It included a fresh fuit and vegetable stand.  Your basic one stop shopping.  I wished that I had a kitchen. Hmmph.

So we march from the Metro in the rain to the front gates...

And we're turned away.  They close in the rain.  Something about limbs falling off of a specific tree.  Yes, we were turned away from the cemetary so we wouldn't die being crushed by a tree limb.

We tried walking around to explore a bit, but it was so miserable with the spitting rain and the jet lag finally catching up, that we turned around.  We back to our little home at the Etoile Troccadero and took a much needed nap.  We were going to need it!

Tomorrow we go to Versailles!

We're Baaaaaack!

Winterarts is back for another smashing season!

Just a line to let you know that WinterArts is back at Saddle Creek, South, with six new artists and exciting new things from those returning: if you think you've seen it all, head to WinterArts and prepare to be amazed.
 
WinterArts is open 7 days a week, and we stay late on Friday evenings (come join us for a glass of wine, any Friday between now and Christmas).
 
Looking forward to seeing you soon! (& bring a friend who has not yet experienced the wonder of WinterArts ;) 
 

WinterArts 2012 –The South’s Premiere Holiday Artists’ Market presents exceptional & unique hand-crafted gifts by the region’s finest Craft Artists: works in glass, metal, wood, fiber; plus, functional and sculptural ceramics; jewelry, and more! Open daily November 24 through Christmas Eve, at 2055 West Street, in The Shops of Saddle Creek, South, Germantown, TN.  Hours: M-TR & Saturdays 10a to6p; Fr 10 to 9p; Su 1p to 5p. Frequent Food Trucks. For more information: www.winterartsmemphis.com

 

(WinterArts is staged by Artworks Foundation, a non-profit {501(c)3} dedicated to encouraging public awareness of the importance of a vibrant and active arts community.)

 

Thanksgiving Love

This  is who I had Thanksgiving with this year.

There is a rumor that the room was filled with 27 people and the world's cutest baby.  I wouldn't know. I only had eyes for Zoey.

Who the heck photoshopped in that man with Zoey?  

Oh, yeah.  I guess we ate something.  We were in the gorgeous mountains in Gatlinburg at the home of my college room mate or something.  Stayed at their River House right on the water or something.  Drank a bunch of moonshine downtown or something.  Did I get any pictures of those? I don't remember.

I miss you, Zoey.  Sigh.

Lunch Lady

Hud's been coming home for lunch twice a week.  I use it as an excuse to make fish.  Because fish just doesn't reheat well for him.  And, well, it's tasty.  I cook a full lunch every day and send his portion off to work with him the following day.  It gives him a piece of home and keeps our weight in check.

I've made puttanesca, Provencale, gumbo, corn crab soup, pan fried catfish, and tilapia in a romano/panko crust.  But lately, it's the salmon dishes that turn out the best.

The other day we had grilled barbeque salmon with rosemary potatoes au gratin and shredded brussel sprouts with prosciutto.

 

My favorite was the one last week, though.  Asian salmon with Ponzu/lime brown rice and stir fried asparagus lavished in oyster sauce.

I wonder what I'll do with it next week.  Hmmmm.

What Else I've Been Doing on My Summer Vacation

Aida.  Did not eat for five days.

I have no idea what happened.  Normally, Aida wanders the house like a ghost, drifting in and out of rooms.  Stealthy.  A ninja.

Until you get in the kitchen and then she becomes a loud, hungry impatient diner at a restaurant whose appetizer was too small and has been waiting over an hour for her entree.  You know, the one who's already had two free glasses of champagne and now wants you to comp her a dessert.  That one. Loud. Noisy.  Demanding.

For five days, she laid under her bed in her bedroom.  Face to the wall.  Didn't eat.  Didn't drink.  Nothing.

We thought it might be the end. 

Aida's fifteen.  We missed her quinceanera, so she didn't get the big ball gown or the Cinderella coach to carry her cake out the the crowd of adoring relatives.  It was May 14.  The day we had to let Carmen go.  She understood.

And then I remembered the miracle cure for all felines who have seemingly lost the will the live.

*Cue the streaming rays of light, unicorns, rainbow and glitter*

 

Meat Flavored Baby Food!

 

*Cue singing bands of faeries and cherubs with candy raining down on the planet*

I swear to the almighty that cats on the brink of the Rainbow Bridge will come flailing back to Earth like the Road Runner for that stuff.  It must be cat ambrosia.

Cut to the chase.  She's fine.

Oh, it's been a slow process, nursing her back to health.  I could only feed her the teeniest bits of it at first.  She's dropped down to a skeletal four pounds.  But for a skinny old lady, she's doing all right.

There's been some drama up in here is what I'm laying down if you're picking it up.

Whew.