AJAX BELL

Author of the Queen City Boys books


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soup is good food

The AntiCraft blog seems to contain a section that is all bacon crafts. Essentially wearable bacon, some made out of yarn or or what have you, some made from actual bacon.

Today I did not make bacon, I made soup instead.  Here is my recipe for Autumn Beef Barley Soup:

1 lb. stew meat, cut to bite-sized pieces
1 large yellow onion, diced
3-4 cloves garlic, finely chopped or pressed
2 cups mushrooms chopped
4 large carrots, cut into coins
2 cups kale, finely chopped
3/4 cup barley
8 cups beef broth

In a big soup pot, add a couple table spoons olive oil and set on medium heat.  Add garlic until lightly golden, add onion and let cook until clear and slightly brown on the edges.  Add meat, stirring occasionally until brown.  Add broth, barley and vegetables (I used the ones above, you use most anything, peas, carrots, and celery make a nice traditional soup, leeks and parsnips make a nice unconventional soup). Add seasonsings (your choice, italian seasoning herb mixes work well–I used a combination of Adobo, grill seasoning and a cup of red wine.)  stir.  Let heat until bubbly (but not boiling), lower heat (to roughly med-low) and let simmer for 2-3 hours.

I served mine with a tablespoon of sour cream and sprinkle of grated cheese.  Crusty bread is good with it too. Nom nom nom!!!


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coleslaw

I just went to make my fancy lunch of crackers and cheese and got totally distracted from that task and ended up making coleslaw too.  This is only my second foray into homemade coleslaw dressing.  Although I suspect I am one of like 6 people in the world that actually really likes coleslaw, for some reason I want to perfect this.  I guess so I can grow up to be the little old lady who everyone says makes the best slaw?  Who knows. But this second try is actually quite good.  The first try was tolerably good, but too sweet and no better than what you can buy at the store.  I will keep trying, but if you are interested here is what I did (measurements are guesses as I mostly just throw stuff in a bowl)

4 tbl mayonnaise
1 tbl dill pickle juice
1 tbl vinegar (I used red wine, I suspect apple cider would be better, but I didn’t have any)
2 tbl honey (dark, local wildflower)
pinch salt
pinch black pepper
pinch celery seed

Tastes best if you let it sit in the fridge for an hour or so. Also it’s the celery seed that really makes it taste right.  I don’t know why.  I don’t even know what else you’d use celery seed for.  This is good for about two to three cups of shredded cabbage and carrots.  Don’t put raisins in your slaw, it’s just wrong.


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I’ve got a song in my heart and it is over-caffeinated and not in charge

Today’s songs are:

Bruce Springsteen – Long Walk Home (click to download)

Blue Rodeo – 3 Hours (click to download)

Sometimes I pick a day’s song because I can’t stop listening to it (for instance the recent “Angel of the Morning”).  Other times, like today, I pick them because they came up on my iPod while I was working and something about them struck me.  Today’s specific choices came up back to back and both struck me as particularly meaningful at this day/hour/moment in my life.

When I first started doing this, three or so years ago, I used to post lyrics and try to explain why this particular song.  Now I just post, as I assume any song’s meaning will change with the listener.  So I simply put them out there, because I got something from them emotionally, and maybe you will too.  Also I suspect that only Rhiannonhero is downloading them, and I probably don’t have to explain to her (even though she’d love it if I did). 🙂

I am now sitting here listening to Bruce Springsteen, lamenting that I don’t get to go to the concert tonight.  Boss Daddy and Chef Daddy are going.  I asked Boss Daddy if that meant I was in charge of the restaurant tonight.  In a classic parent move, he told me that both PranavaGirl and I were jointly in charge.  Heh.

This morning I went to the new coffee shop next door where I got a lovely, effusive, friendly greeting from the owners.  They’ve only been open a week or two and I’ve only been in maybe 4 times, but they always thank me and say glad to see me, in a very genuine way.  I mean, yes, new business, so they are glad for my patronage, but seriously, I live 15 yards away, they serve the best coffee ever, so yes, of course I’m gonna be there if means not having to make my own coffee.  Still it’s nice to have people seem so happy to see me first thing in the morning.

Also last night I dreamt I was opening a museum with the cast of Scrubs.  It was going to be an amazing museum which would magically educate everyone in the world to ‘right’ (my way of) thinking.  As you left the museum you’d be routed through a huge book store and after seeing the exhibits everyone would be compelled to buy many books and read.  Hmmm.


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so much time, so much not getting done

This is a post I started on Saturday and got so scattered that I never finished it:

I’m going to go out on a limb and say I have PMS, since this just made me cry (watch the video, don’t skip it).

I am very scattered today. I keep thinking, “Oh I need to do X,” and then I’m go make a cup of coffee and entirely forget what X is. So I ‘ll start to do Y and think of something else in the middle of it, leave it and start thinking about X again, with the intention to write it down, but get distracted by Z and start the whole process over again. UGH. Seriously, it is hard to be me sometimes.

Now it’s Monday and I am still scattered as I was two days ago. Whopperjaw came through town yesterday. I made Thai curry, both green and red, yum yum yum. And then we took Ladybug to See Batman on the Imax screen. YAY BATMAN. I have complaints about it, but they are so minor and bizarre that I expect anyone listening to my complaints would just roll their eyes at me. I did totally love it.

This morning Whopperjaw and I were having breakfast in this little diner in my neighborhood, and the cashier, an older gentleman, was asking me all about my tattoos. Finally, done, he turned to Whopperjaw and said, “You got your hands full with this one.” WJ snickered, and all the way to the car he nattered on about how it so nice to have someone else recognized the trials of his life, having his hands full with me. Hmmm, I am perhaps not relaying this as amusing as it really was.

Okay, off to the craft store. I got things to do today and I have to start somewhere!


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office supplies and candy

I’m not sure how I feel about the advent of 3 Muskateers Mint.  I can’t stop eating them.  Sure I can blame PMS.  But this is even worse than Junior Mints. Or Peppermint Nougats.  I am telling you this is candy crack.  I have been through one bag this week (although in my defense, Ladybug helped), and have just purchased another one.

Besides candy I also have shiny new office supplies.  HURRAH!  Packing tape!  Mailing envelopes!  Thumb tacks!  And a weekly planner.  Do I need a weekly planner?  Probably not.  I mean I have a fancy computer that can do lots of planning things.  I just like the idea of writing things down in a book.  The real question is, will I keep up with it or not?  That remains to be seen.

Does anyone know what nail scissors are for?  I’m pretty sure it’s for cutting split ends out of your hair.  Because I couldn’t figure out how you’d use them on your nails.  I’ll stick with the nail clippers, thanks.  Plus they don’t make split end scissors and I need specialized tools for everything.

Should I fill out the ‘personal information’ page of my new planner?  Or just leave it alone?  Hmm, it’s so tempting, but is it necessary?  Is it just that new school supplies feeling that is making me want to fill it out?

What book should I read next?  Lesbian cop murder mystery?  Cyborg immortals trying to stop the end times coming?  Rogue samurai who fights to become clan leader and must go to war against his own son?  Such a hard decision.


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sun shines even on bad cops

I have recently had cause to be generally unhappy with the way the Nashville police respond to things.  The Seattle police force certainly had it’s problems, but Nashville is quite clearly not serving and protecting all it’s citizens equally and it’s a shame.  I know it’s tied to a lot the other urban problems we have, but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to get addressed any time soon.  Also I know it’s funny to joke about the rivalry between Memphis and Nashville, but fucking hell, Memphis, really? I’m not saying it wouldn’t have gone down the same in Nashville, but the fact that it didn’t happen here makes me feel at least a little better about our cops.  Even if it would appear that steroid usage is common among them.

It is a another glorious under 80 day in Nashville.  I am going to celebrate by cooking out.  If you are reading this and you want to come by and eat with me and miss Ladybug, call me.

God, I love E.Nash.  The the 35 minute delay between writing this and the paragraph above, my pal, Heartbreaker, came by, brought back some stuff he’d borrowed, invited me out to a show tonight and hung out and generally encouraged me on the work I am supposed to be doing today.  In the PNW people don’t just drop by and hang for a bit.  I love it when they do.


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hippies, squid and crying (no this isn’t about Bonarroo)

For some reason my eyes won’t stop watering today. I hope this doesn’t become an ongoing thing. Not only does it interfere with my vanity (makes my eye make up run and no one wants to look like they are crying all the time), but it is kind of uncomfortable.

It is past noon in Tennessee and I am not hot. Seriously after days of over 90 temps, this high 70s stuff feels AWESOME. Perfect, beautiful weather. Too bad I am inside working. Bleh.

I spent my weekend in Memphis with Whopperjaw the Exceptionalist (such an unwieldy nickname that it suits him perfectly). I ate the real deal calamari (squiggly and without deep fried breading), excellent scallops (not quite the ones at Wild Ginger but great nonetheless), paella that WtE made for me himself. All in all a lovely, fun, relaxing weekend. Sadly I feel even more overwhelmed by how much work I need to get done now. And my schedule at the restaurant is in crazy flux because we are still short a good back-up person. Ugh. It seems no matter what I do the more time I have the more I end up needing to get done.

News from the town where I was born. See? You know I’m not really a hippie, just from the West Coast where we are all hippies to some extent. But man, this is where I am from. I may look like a hippie in Tennessee but that’s only because people don’t have these kind of whackjobs to compare me too.


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greetings from the land of sneezes

It is BLOOM season here in Seattle.  It’s been mostly grey and little chill, but totally tolerable.  The flowers have been amazing.  So brilliantly colorful that they make up for the lack of sun.  My allergies however, are most certainly plotting my death.  If they have their way I’ll drown in my own snot or my head will explode from sinus pressure.  I suspect, though, that this is my punishment for not having any allergies in Nashville this season. My incredibly awesome, spectacular, surrogate grandpa, Major Mac, said today that allergies were just like hangovers: you are busy trying to feel good enough to die, and everyone else thinks it’s amusing.  He’s spot on.

Mac and his wife, Aunt C, came for lunch today and told us incredibly true adventures of their lives in the incredible way only they can do and then asked all about my life and were super supportive and interested and wonderful.

I am having a great time on this trip.  I got to see a ton of people last night which was fun.  I hope the sun comes out for me art least once more.  3 hours on the first day wasn’t really enough.

I had a bunch of stuff I’ve been meaning to write about, that I keep thinking of through out the day, but of course I’ve forgotten all of it, so instead I will go drink this pint of Duvel, and eat the salmon my ma is cooking and watch a movie with my dad.  Cheers!


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like funny ha ha!

Yesterday I had good mahi mahi tacos and excellent seviche for lunch in Leschi looking over Lake Washington.  Last night we went to the Dahlia Lounge, where I had perhaps the best crab cakes ever. We also had a bunch of delicious mini seafood appetizers.  I love Tom Douglas so much.  He really does not have a single restaurant that I don’t just LOVE the food at and the atmosphere is always excellent and I get the sense his restaurants are designed around the servers being able to get around comfortably.

At dinner my dad was the hilarious entertainment, and not always intentionally.

Dad: So I was telling my co-worker how I can never tell the international bathroom symbols apart. And she said, “think about it for a second.” So I did and then then next time I saw them I realized the men’s room one was definitely more, you know, upright.

me, ma, sis:  o.0

ma: the women’s one is wearing a skirt

dad: What? *looks at us like we are crazy* No, the male one is just more upright.

me, ma, sis: *wait until we are alone the next day to laugh about it*

And, as usual he managed to get a joke completely wrong (he’s a little hard of hearing) and make it even funnier.  In repeating it to each other, crackerjackSis and I could not stop laughing in the car this morning.

Dad: What do you get when you cross an elephant and a rhinocerous?  Hello Rhino!

Seriously!  I need a Hello Rhino! shirt.  (I’m pretty sure you all know the actual punchline to that joke is “Hell if I know.)

When we picked my sister up from school yesterday, the first thing she said when she got in the car was, “God, I hate PE.  It’s like I have to keep teaching them [Crackerjack Sis]’s first rule of feminism: Pass me the ball even though I can have babies.”

We saw the Indiana Jones movies yesterday afternoon.  I give it two thumbs up.  I wanted action, special effects, punchy dialogue and you know, Indy and I feel it completely delivered.

My momma compulsively folds her movie tickets, makes little origamis out of them (she also chews things, like toothpicks and stuff a lot). As we walked out of the theatre, my sister said, “I knew I was at the movies with Ma when I looked over and she had her little movie ticket paper airplane handing out of her mouth.”  Ma, completely unembarassed said, “my first thought when he handed all the tickets back to me was, ‘oh! I have four to fold!'”

Today we went for a long walk in the neighborhood, had amazing ginger spiced Ahi for lunch (looking over Lake Washington from the other direction) and now we are cooking dinner for our party then going shopping.

I will be posting all my pictures when I get home.


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emergency hippos

Ladybug and I do not have to work tomorrow. So we are awake late on a Sunday night. Apparently there is nothing on TV at this time. Luckily, Ladybug has Tivo’d a documentary on hippos for me. That’s why she’s my best girl.

Did you know hippos can run 30 miles an hour on land? And they use their tails to spray dung to mark territory? So cute!

This morning I got up early and sewed curtains for the kitchen, did laundry and was generally productive. Then Whopperjaw came by on his way from Knoxville to Memphis and I made fancy brunch for Ladybug, Miss Sparkle and Whopperjaw. It was excellent, although might have come off better if I hadn’t started on the champagne cocktails before cooking. We hung out all afternoon, sweatin’ a bit as spring is apparently over in Tennessee. Then C-Train called and he was lonely, since his household has been empty for days, so Ladybug and I went over and he cooked us gumbo and we hung out and talked.

Now, hippos! Did you dung spraying is also a sign of excitement and respect among hippos? Just like the human world! HA! Seriously, the narrations this is hilarious. And much like anthropology, I’m wonder who decided that certain things were signs of admiration among hippos? How do we know hippos even feel admiration. Nonetheless, there isn’t much I love more than hippos, so we’ll be watching this over and over. Especially because the narration is hilarious! “For hippos licking is the most common expression of affection. In hippo society, the mouth is an important tool, used for exploring.” Um, I’m pretty sure he said, “the fruit of the sausage tree is a tasty treat.” Um, yes, definitely.

Here is your moment of zen for the day:

This is the inside of C-Train’s fridge. Scary, yeah?

Maybe if I get bored tommorow I will tell you about yesterday’s swimsuit shopping venture. Or doing my laundry. I’m not sure which is a more boring story.

Oh, now the hippo documentary is getting sad. Stupid crocodiles! Stay away from the baby hippos!!!


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Ginger and rhubarb are really good friends

Things I meant to tell you yesterday:

At work the other night a couple of regulars came in and while I know them on sight, I hadn’t much talked to them. It turns out they are from Seattle. I like really from Seattle, grew up there and everything. So we talked for a while comparing high schools, neighborhoods we’ve lived in etc. As it happens, they live like 9 blocks from me for a while, and they moved to Nashville the same week I did! Totally bizarre! I am glad to have new back-home friend here. Hooray.

Another friend of mine was in the bar later and was pretty drunk. As he left he pulled a classic, “I love you, man” on me. Except nicer, telling me how much better I make the world, how people in general should try and be like me and on and on and on. It was very sweet. Sometime I forget that people really like me. I mean, I’m not all moping around, “I guess I’ll eat some worms,” but sometimes you really click with people and it’s good to be reminded of that. Even if it takes the effusive, unrestrained love of drunk folks to make that reminder.

I wore the cute green plaid dress to work. All the boys noticed. I don’t mean in an oo-la-la kind of way. Usually a cute dress will garner comments from other women, asking where you got it or just telling you it’s cute. It takes a very special dress for half a dozen guys to comment on it. I mean the fact they even noticed seems impressive. It probably didn’t hurt that I was rocking the whole 50s looks, sans irony or cheesy rockabillyness.

Right now, on my TV, Jamie Oliver is making rhubarb compote with honey sweetened yogurt and ‘cookies’ made of puff pastry coated in sugar and cinnamon and pan fried. This is so close to the hippie desserts of my childhood. I want it so badly. It would appear that I am making brunch tomorrow. I wonder if I can get rhubarb at the farmer’s market this early? Also Jamie just said, “I’m going to make a fantastic dish that I made up out of thin air the other day.” God, I love him so much. Maybe I’ll have an all Jamie Oliver recipes brunch tomorrow… Oh, “groundnut oil” hehehehehe! I swear I could write pages of running commentary on lovely Jamie’s own comments.

Seriously, Jamie’s food is sooooo distracting. I had other things to say. Let’s see, uh… Oh! So last night I was talking to this cute boy I met recently and after two meetings with me he was somehow laboring under the impression that I had two teenage daughters.

“Ginger and rhubarb are really good friends.” Oh, Jamie! He’s beating ginger biscuits with a stick. Hehehehehe. Perhaps I shouldnn’t try and do anything else when I’m watching Jamie Oliver. It’s really so distracting. Rhubarb custard souffle? Nomnomnom.

Anyway, wow, two teenage daughters? Me? Seriously? Sure, I guess I am old enough for that, but no. No. No. No. Miss Sparkle wondered if he wasn’t confusing her and Ladybug with teenage daughters, rather than housemates. Miss Ladybug wondered if he didn’t have some crazy drunken dream in which he recreated me as a more bizarre character than I already am. I find over all I’m pretty disturbed by the entire thing. Yes, I’m not having kids, but I do take parenting very seriously so I think maybe I’m just really shocked that anyone would think that someone with my lifestyle was a parent. Yikes.

Of course, if I did have teenagers, I could send them out to work and make them support me in my old age. Heh. That’d be nice.

I should go wake Ladybug up and get started on our errands for the day. Number one, buy a fan for my room. It’s finally warm enough that I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m sure it was just a week ago that I went to sleep in sweatpants and worried that there weren’t enough blankets on the bed.

There was some discussion of swimsuit shopping today. As there is poolside sitting in our future. I think I am in denial about it still. Ugh.

Now Jamie’s making vodka/rhubarb cocktails. Why am I not tiny enough to live in his pocket and sample everything he makes?


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dressed to eat, shut up about drinking

This morning was a getting dressed and having my usual trouble picking shoes. Hmm, I thought, the white flats with strawberries on the left one and cherries on the right one? Perhaps a bold choice with this dress:

And then I remembered that I am covered in tattoos, and while my friends might wonder at some fashion choices I make, no stranger on the street or customer at work is going to look at me in a sleeveless dress and think, wow, that was a bold shoe choice. It’s kind of freeing, actually. Fashion laziness by default.

Yesterday I lost 6 hours of my life to taking the class to get my ABC card. This is my permit to serve alcohol in Tennessee. Getting it entailed 5 hours of listening to the instructor literally drone on about the archaic liquor laws in TN and then endless discussion of how to tell if someone is intoxicated, and graceful ways to decline to serve more drinks to an intoxicated person (um, yeah, right). Hours of my life that I am never getting back. Fortunately the card is good for 5 years, so I don’t have to suffer through it again for a while.

Today is also the second day in a row I have left my phone at home. ARG. I don’t really even need it, you know? But not having it feels weird, like a continuous vague sense that something is missing. I think perhaps I should leave it at home more often. As I don’t like being that dependent on anything.

I had some stuff to say about food, but I’m at a loss. I did spend an hour on the phone last night talking about food, which most definitely is not the extent of what I have to say on the subject. Maybe I just need a little more coffee so I can go on to day dreaming about lunch.


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Other things. That I forgot before.

I can not type today.  Every ‘o’ is an ‘i.’  My hands are not cooperating at all.

Mint 3 Musketeers is perhaps the best cheap candy ever made. Feel free to send me some.  If you love me.

I am purposefully, relentlessly upbeat, however, I do have a song for the day:

Sad Eyes – Josh Rouse
(click to download)

Which maybe doesn’t seem upbeat at first, but it is.  At least to me.  Right now.

Also, message to the universe: I ordered mashed potatoes, why did you bring me SpaghettiOs?  At this point I might just say fuck dinner and order the crème brûlée.


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So. Things.

This weekend Ladybug and I went ten miles out of our way to do our grocery shopping at Publix. Publix is great. Reasonably priced, store brand stuff is awesome and I can get all hippie/natural brands that I’m accustomed to in Seattle and can’t get in my (awesome) ghetto neighborhood in Nashville. And Ladybug and I are always up for cross-cultural experiences. So there we were, in suburbs. It could have been ANYWHERE in middle America. It didn’t feel like Nashville. It didn’t feel like anywhere. It was just a vaguely American place. So we shop. We get our good foods. We marvel at the suburbs and we drive home.

So I’m thinking, here’s all these relatively uniform looking people. All these teenagers who are dressed like Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz. And there’s nothing around that makes think this place is special because… It didn’t even necessarily feel like the South or Nashville or anything.

I bag on Nashville a lot. The grocery stores suck. Public transit is a joke. Decent restaurants must be carefully sought and aren’t just found. But really, I love Nashville. It feels like, well, Nashville. It has character and personality and despite how small it is it’s still genuinely urban. Yes, the racial divide is bad, the poverty is hard to deal with (especially when it’s so close), but I love even those things. It has soul, it is reality. There is more reality here than any American suburb. And it is dark and poor and horrible, but it’s also, arty and bright and amazing and I just love my city.

Sometimes you have to go to the suburbs to remind yourself of why you love the city. Also real urban kids don’t need to try and look like Ashlee Simpson because they have culture and variety and other things in their lives to keep them from becoming plastic parodies of people.

After grocery shopping, Ladybug and I re-arranged the kitchen a bit and it feels much more open and bright and utilitarian. Hurray!

I’ve started training my replacement at the day job. She seems great so far. So that’s good. Can’t wait to get out there.

Have a stack of reference/research books next to me. Should be doing that work. Am instead blogging and contemplating eating cold fried chicken and watching 13 going on 30. Which you know I hate both the leads of that movie, and yet, still enjoy the movie. Weird.

Yes, I had other things to say. Smart, interesting things. Political things. Intelligent things. Who knows now what they were, though, because I’ve forgotten. Maybe I’ll have a beer with that fried chicken.


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mmm chocolate

Work has provided me with some sort of dark chocolate lollypop.  It’s actually shockingly delicious. Like chocolate hard candy on a stick but still strangely rich and creamy and tasty.

I have, so far today, been anxious, bored, brokenhearted, tired, and lonely.  My hair looks terrible (though still very soft).  The chocolate lollypop could still turn the day around though.


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bright

Good Monday, people! It is sunny and lovely and not at all like yesterday’s Something Wicked This Way Comes weather. Hurrah!

Today the rest of my office gets the announcement that I am leaving. Uncomfortable. But then first thing this morning Annoying Co-worker told me that he’d been in over the weekend and tried to use my computer, but it wouldn’t work and he wanted to give me a head’s up, in case it was broken. The problem? It was turned off. And he couldn’t figure that out… Yeah, it’s time to go alright.

I am conflicted about this show, Spain…On the Road Again. Food! Spain! But, then Mario Batali? They couldn’t have found someone that I don’t find insufferable? I mean, yeah, I’ll watch anyway, but boo on Batali.


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windy morning

The wind woke me up. When the rain wakes me up I can usually go back to sleep. Even if I can’t it’s somewhat soothing to lay there and listen to it. The wind however makes me slightly anxious with it’s weird loudness. But I heave delicious toast and coffee. I will make egg with bacon and avocado when Ladybug gets up. So all things considered, it’s worth being up. Granted they won’t be fancy noodley ribbons of crepe thin eggs a la Jamie Oliver, but I expect goodness nonetheless. I mean, with avocado and bacon how can one really go wrong, you know?

Work was crazy last night. The full range from local regulars bringing their parents in to big tipping frat boys to groups of 5 young 20-somethings who sit for hours and order $13 worth of stuff. But oddly, despite being way too busy a couple times, being full of somewhat obnoxious customers and everyone else working not appearing to have a great night, I had an awesome time. And not just because my favorite dinner regulars come in (they are from Seattle) with some visiting family members (visiting from Seattle) and they wanted me to sit and talk with them (about Seattle!).

I have way too many things to do today and right now I am so scattered I can’t even order myself to figure out what they are.

Also I could happily live the rest of my life without ever seeing that “KY Yours and mine” commercial. Bleh.


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eat eat eat

I got up way way too early for a Saturday.  It’s not yet 9 and my laundry is done, and I’ve caught up on all my online reading and finally turned to the TV for entertainment until the rest of my household is awake and I can then be loud and all.

So what’s on TV early on Saturday? Jamie at Home. Oh. My. God.  I forgot just how much I love Jamie Oliver. He’s not even hot anymore and yet, he so totally is. And the food. THE FOOD.  I might go out today and buy al his cookbooks.  I mean, sure I’m not home in the evenings but soon I’ll have time during the day to cook, right?

I’m not a huge fan of sweets in general, sometimes I want chocolate, sure, and I rarely refuse anything with mint in it, but most deserts are too sweet or not interesting enough for me. But I swear, Jamie Oliver has never made a desert that I’d turn down.  This morning was Tray-Baked Meringue with Pears, Cream, Toasted Hazelnuts and Chocolate Sauce.    Watching him spoon the real whipped cream (with real vanilla beans) and the ginger chocolate sauce over the meringue?  Better than porn.  Oh!  Now he’s just made crepe thin omelets and sliced them up like noodles and made a salad out of them with prosciutto, baby greens and fennel.  I almost can’t bear to look at it, it looks soooooo good.

I haven’t thought about food much recently.  No, rather, I have thought about food often, and I have been making a concerted effort to eat better.  But cooking hasn’t been on my radar for a couple years.  Maybe it’s time to start again?