Friday in my world.

Welcome to my Friday Follies. I figured it was a great way to cover what competes for attention in my brain. You know. In case anyone is actually interested. And since Friday is only so long, I can’t exactly include my entire list.

Question of the Day/Week/Month/Lifetime: Would any of the unthinkably serious crap that is taking place in the world right now be happening if women ruled? Seriously. Clearly, I’m not opposed to men in general. I’m quite fond of four of my own, all of whom are quite pleasant humans. But I will never, ever understand what possesses some to be so consumed with a desire for power, that they destroy what and whomever lies in their path. It makes absolutely no sense.  I would say, “Nuke ’em ’till they glow,” but Greenpeace would revoke my membership and I’d have to take my sticker off my Mac.

Now I’ve heard everything: BBC News is reporting today that we can now blame the obese for the planet’s energy woes. I can officially expect the BBC to pick up some of the crap I write since they have decided to bring attention to this illustrious study and call it news.

For the shopper who has everything and can’t resist yet another… um…thing: The ultimate cake server. My VBF handed it to me unopened the other day on our morning walk saying she didn’t want it. I think it was something she received at a dinner party? Lo and behold, a wonder of design revealed itself after I was done fighting with the packaging. Just chuck the magnetized heel, and you’ve got a swanky brushed stainless cake server that may or may not fit in your utensil drawer. My VBF is sooooo getting this back.

For summer travel plans: Consider Paradise your destination. Palm trees, fish tacos, an excellent ball park with a less than stellar ball team, and no more spine-wrenching plunges into bathtub-sized potholes! An end to days of signs warning of sewage spills at the bay? Standard & Poor has finally given our fair city an acceptable bond rating again. We will now get to use plastic to pay for street repairs, faulty sewer lines and broken water mains. Party on! Maybe they can also do something about our pump prices?

My gentle menfolk: I am willing to act like I’m somewhat interested in anyone who can convince me that a person interested in the arts needs to take advanced mathematics. But I think I’ve heard it all before. The RTR will be bypassing pre-calculus for statistics as a junior next year since it’s the lesser of two evils and he has to take a third year of math. The MoH has concocted a bribe — monetary — if the RTR can squeak by with a “C” in Algebra II and Spanish. He does have an “A” in PE, however, which is huge when one considers that actually moving his now more than 6′-tall lankiness is not something he enjoys. And that he has a swim coach who makes the entire class do 45 laps — yes, that would be 45 — to compensate for kids caught sneaking into the locker room early. Maybe the RTR needs to swim with me this summer. And pigs will fly.

My Tiny Paradise:

I saw this guy early this morning when I should have been sleeping in. My VBF had an early appointment so I didn’t have to stumble out of bed at dawn’s crack to walk. Do you think I could actually sleep? Um. No. So of course I got up and thought…Hell. I can take macro snail shots while enjoying my coffee! He looked so cute, I couldn’t bring myself to chuck him over the wall into the early morning traffic. Which probably saved me a law suit now that I think of it. Gawd forbid that I hit someone’s Maserati with snail guts.

On the menu? Feh. I never have a menu. But my friend Gina always does. *sigh* In my next life, I’ll be as organized. Our meals are all mushed around in my head with all this other crap I think about. But I have finally edited the photos from our latest dinner party featuring Rick Bayless’s Mexican cuisine and will be getting around to doing that mammoth post today. And I’m thinking next week is going to be Indian…Tiki Masala, anyone?

Me & my mom: Things are great! We’ve only had 3 arguments, 5 disagreements, uttered 49 sighs of exasperation, clucked our tongues 89 times, and been disgusted with one another once or twice. Don’t get me wrong — that’s all normal — at least it has been since I was In High School. We have our laughs and snorts, too. We’ve been on a few field trips, (Wally World, Target…) have drunk umpteen gazillion pots of coffee, analyzed the state of the human condition at least 14 times, moved my bedroom around, and jeered each other’s candidates with gusto. Her cat finally ventured down the stairs by herself today to be greeted by my hissing pretentious attack cat, and the doggo has stopped following my mom up and down the stairs, realizing her favorite person isn’t going anywhere. Her hips thank her. The dog’s. Not my mom’s.

I’d say that’s enough folly for a Friday.

Don’t you?

I feel so much better now.

Walking, talking, and thinking about good things.

It’s still dark in the morning when the alarm goes off at 5:10 and I rarely hesitate before throwing back the covers to step over the doggo and find my way to the closet. If I’m lucky, I’ll avoid the Yack Star, who will want to eat, and actually make it downstairs with two shoes that go together. Navigating the stairs in the dark is scary enough to have to feel my way along the wall, making sure I land solidly on each step.

Still not quite sure I’m awake, I glance at the clock and notice that only a few minutes have passed, so I pause long enough to grab a glass of water. My heart is pounding as I reach for my car key and wallet, hit the garage door button and fall into the driver’s seat. I cautiously back out, and head to my friend’s house, sometimes not quite realizing that I’m not still under the covers, snug and sleeping soundly.

I never know if she’ll be awake when I arrive and so use the sloping curb of her driveway to stretch my stiff calves while I wait. Once in a while, the elderly man who lives across the street comes out, wanting to know who I am. He’s just being a good neighbor. But since my friend and I have gotten back into the swing of things, she’s been up and ready to go. I’ve not had time to even consider whether I’ll be brave enough to tap on the glass next to her front door, hoping she’ll hear me, and causing her dogs to bark.

We start out with her loping yellow Lab each morning, barely awake, and it seems the first point of discussion is food. Often it’s more of a confessional, with comments like, “I wasn’t very good yesterday,” or “My husband looked at me and said, ‘Wine?'” Other times our talk is about which recipes we’ve tried. Somehow it makes getting up and over those hills much more easy.

There’s something soothing walking that early in the day. The annoyance of cars leaving for work or taking kids to school comes much later, and except for the occasional ghostly shadow of someone who has ventured out to retrieve their morning paper, we see no one.  Hear almost nothing beyond the rustle of some small animal in the ivy, or the soft hooting of an owl somewhere high up in the eucalyptus trees.

We’ve improved our route time by about six minutes even though we haven’t worked to do that. And only one incline continues to kick our butts, even though we’ve figured out that if we’re absorbed in a conversation, our minds don’t linger on the agony of lungs stinging for air or bodies gravity insists upon keeping close to the asphalt.

As we approach the end of our route and the last rise, I feel the air change. It’s warm, and hints of the weather we’re to have this weekend — sunny and near 80 on the coast. For a moment, I think of summer and all that comes with it.

By the time we return to the starting point, the sky is much lighter, and I drive home knowing that I’ve done something good for myself. We’ve walked about 16 miles since Sunday and I smile, acknowledging that it’s not bad for two well-seasoned chicks. I make plans for my day — not strict plans, though, because it’s Friday and I don’t have to do anything if I don’t feel like it.

But I do feel like it. I feel like continuing to think carefully about what I eat. I feel like finding a place for my mom to live when she returns to Paradise from her non adventure on the Wrong Coast. I feel like cleaning my house, and planting some flowers, and lining up what I’ll be cooking this weekend.

And I feel like spending time with the MoH who has been putting in 15-hour days. With any luck at all, I’ll actually get to see him. It puts a dent in my style when he’s not around.

Maybe I’ll bake something with dark chocolate.

It’s loaded with antioxidants, you know.

Happy weekend.

Bloggoversary Stats and Memory Lane

Last night, I couldn’t sleep for some reason, so I found myself as I have so many times in the past sitting here, staring at my Mac. Midnight is most likely not a great time to open Firefox Firebug for the very first time (thanks very much Scott!) oohing and aahing over the newness of it all.

But I had just finished going through the comments pages on my dashboard , reliving the evolution of my patch of space in Bloggsville and remembering just how things have come to pass. For those of you who are number starved, and whom I promise to continue to try and understand, I’ve included some stats. Hold on to yourself, please.

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Wordless Wednesday Contrasts

If you haven’t been reading my blog for any length of time, then you need to know that my idea of Wordless Wednesday is to write less than four or five pages in a single post and add photos. That would be today, even though the orange glow of the setting sun on the houses across the street reminds me that this is easily categorized as better late than never.

Whatever.

I have a foodie blog friend who lives in Ohio who often mentions their weather in less than loving terms. Suffice it to say that her description of mornings finding her car door frozen shut have been quite colorful and completely hilarious.

I have been hounding her for photographs of her home town all winter, and yesterday I received them. Oh. My. Goodness. I had a clue because my mom recently moved to upstate New York and has sent me a few, but she isn’t out in her car. No sirree.

So… I ran outside and took a few of my own photos to warm her up. I figured since most of you live in places much more…um…FRIGID than I do, I’d warm you up also.

It has been in the mid-seventies for two days now. Even I like it which is semi-miraculous considering the grumpster I am about Paradise and sunshine.

We slept with our windows open last night, and today?

Today I put on my shorts, went for a walk, and sat down by the beach waiting for the RTR to finish up with his math tutor (news at eleven…) and watched the surfers.

Totally excellent. Dude.

Jeez, Lis… Look what’s blooming in my garden…
I can’t believe you gotta deal with this… Even the damn palm tree next door that houses all the squawking crows was looking gorgeous…
It looks just like Christmas, Lis… Our street is pretty empty, too…
The trees are so perfect, Lis… But the sunset was completely amazing today…
Everything looks like a delicate work of art… Some would say this is spectacular, too…
Your “outside” looks a lot different than mine, Lis… Here’s my view at sunset tonight, February 27th…

Friday, Rain in Paradise, and Awards…What could be more perfect?

I’m sitting here just like I so often used to each day, wondering where I should begin. No, not with my writing. That’s rarely an issue because I can just sit down and write most anything I feel like writing. Whether anyone wants to read it is a completely different issue, isn’t it? Sometimes, it’s more of a battle with respect to what tone I want to indulge in, or how many distractions there are on my screen that also vie for my attention. I look at the clock in the upper right corner of my toolbar and am always alarmed at where the time has gone.

Some of my diversions are quite relevant, as they relate to current events that occupy my mind like the debate between Hillary and Obama last night (and I’ll bet you just can’t wait for me to spew about the whole health care issue, right?) Or the outcome of the first round of eliminations on American Noodle (and wasn’t that cut throat the way the first kid went out?). But many of the distractions that delay my writing when I actually get to wallow in Bloggsville now, are anything but. They’re more like pleasant detours involving the people I’ve met along the way for nearly a year now that I’ve been writing at kellementology and in the land of foodies. Very pleasant detours, diversions, and distractions, all.

I’ve been trying to get organized, finding that I don’t use my blogroll in either of my blogs. I know. You’re thinking that a blogroll isn’t for me — it’s more to let everyone else know whom I enjoy reading, and to share a link which helps them in the land of Google and Technorati, and all things virtually searchable or something like that.

So in an attempt to keep in better touch with others, I’ve begun to collect feeds in the reader I chose — Netvibes. I know everyone else seems to use Google Reader, but my affiliation with Google is only through my membership in the Daring Bakers, the ever expanding group (I think there are well over 500 members now…) of loveable foodies with whom I bake once a month. My food blog is hosted by TypePad (which is a network I almost never wander around in for some reason), and this one is my very own, of course. Without my connections to MyBlogLog, Blog Catalog, and more recently, EntreCard (which I haven’t developed a strong opinion about one way or the other), I wouldn’t be very good at keeping up with people. Feh, like I have actually been doing that successfully anyway.

So I’ve changed the settings on my Mac to open to my Netvibes home page and am racking up the feeds. I know you’re snickering right now thinking that I’ve been under some rock and that having recently freed myself, have discovered something that has been around since Al Gore discovered the Internet.

Go ahead an laugh. I can take it.

But the big question is — are YOU in my reader?

Continue reading “Friday, Rain in Paradise, and Awards…What could be more perfect?”

Blogging & Future Rock Stars

I told the MoH I was staying up here nights. At least that way I can get my blogging done. Jeez.

Is there any reason WHY, if I don’t salivate over watching football, or baseball, or basketball, or hockey, or soccer, or poker, or curling (just wanted to see if you were paying the hell attention…) but yes, he watches that if it’s on, too…that I can’t BLOG? Well?

No. I didn’t think so.

So maybe Cafe Kelly is closed. Okay, well, don’t get too excited, because I do have to do my foodblog. Really. And I do have to pay more attention to it. At least try.

No hissy fit. Just making a statement. Now I’ll put my soapbox back under my desk for the next time.

But you can help out by going to my food blog and clicking on the vote button in the upper right hand corner. You know. Just in support. I swear there are people who are cheating. So vote for me. “Kay? Routinely. When I’m famous, I’ll put you on the payroll. We can party.

I can’t believe it’s been forever that I’ve posted again. TOO much going on. Seriously.Gee-Tar

But I did want to share the RT’s new status as Resident Rocker. So that means I guess his name has to be different now. How about Resident Teen Rocker. RTR. And while I’m at this nonsense, I need to say some serious thanks to Scott for helping me along as I did my research on guitars. I paid attention! He’s already had his first lesson, actually practices, and sounds like he’s hitting the right notes. Okay, so that’s kind of piano lingo, but that’s all I know. He IS sounding decent and playing around with the sounds on his amp. I haven’t needed earphones once. We’ll talk in a couple of months, though. Remind me.

Continue reading “Blogging & Future Rock Stars”

Smile.

The head has cleared, my throat no longer feels like the tunnel of death, and I can sort of tell that there are things on Earth that don’t smell like s*ot.  Sorry.  I just can’t spell it.  It’s disgusting.

But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say Happy New Year to you all.  I tried to make it around to your blogs and hope I didn’t forget anyone.  Well, it’s not exactly like Santa trying to get around to all the giftees in the world, you know.  But still.

It was nice “seeing” you again and reading about what you’ve been up to even if the MoH is now in bed, I’m up alone, the T.V. that Best Buy has still not delivered parts on is blaring, the RT is snuggled in his bottom bunk unfortunately not as much on the mend as I, and well…

…I’m not sleepy.

Must have been all that decadent lounging on the sofa and in bed for two days with Kleenex sticking out of my nose.

Hopefully you’re smiling.  And if I can wish anything for you, it’s that.  That you’ll smile as you head into 2008, believing that good will happen when you least expect it.

Imagine what could happen if you did expect it.

See you soon.