SoBro Bungalow

Boots

Mootsie has been rocking some mighty fine frocks lately. How much do I love this girl who isn't afraid to pair crinoline with rainbow-striped leg warmers and pink cowboy boots? A lot.

The Winter of Our Discontent

Well, my discontent anyway. There were so many home improvement projects slated for the winter months that just didn't get done. Half done mostly. For example, we converted my old office into a playroom, but it still needs to be painted and the FLOR needs to be installed. (Right now there are a few tiles on the floor for a soft play surface. Something about finding the center of the room and snapping chalk lines seems too daunting, I guess.) The master bedroom? Walls were painted a lovely creamy Benjamin Moore Antique White (thank you Jeff!), but the trim isn't finished. The front room is almost complete, but it needs something else. Another small table? Maybe. The room could be my undoing. My solution to all this half-finished business? Get out of the house and stop looking at it. I planted some pansies yesterday in containers that flank the front door. Took me about five minutes. All home improvement projects should give instant satisfaction like that.

Whoa. Just Whoa.

February 20? Really? It didn't seem that long. Honest. We had ourselves a little surgery here and then there were a few days to recoup. And then, you know, kind of like exercise, once a few days goes by it gets really, really easy to say, "I'll post tomorrow."

Also, cutting into my productivity (i.e. napping in the afternoon and going to bed at 8:30 instead of doing, well, anything): I've kicked coffee. Both a Western and Eastern doc told me to ixnay on the offeecay. I thought the sudden stoppage of caffeine coursing through my system would cause massive headaches, but nope. It's been a pretty easy habit to break in that regard. What I miss ever so much is waking up slowly to a cafe au lait each day. Amidst the early morning, relentless demands polite requests from Mootsie, it felt like something just for me. I'm trying with herbal teas, but it's just not the same. Any tea people out there want to convince me I'm wrong?

The Craziest Thing I've Ever Seen

Greek yogurt with walnuts and a touch of honey? No, but good guess. It would have to be what I witnessed this morning. I was on my way to the kitchen to prepare a tea party (which is more commonly known as lunch, but don't tell Mootsie), when I saw the neighbor's truck take off backwards at a high rate of speed narrowly missing my car parked out front. So fast and so close, mind you, that I yelled and ran to the window just in time to see the truck fly -- still backwards -- through the front yard of the house across the street narrowly missing another car and slam back-bumper first into the front porch of another neighbor's house. Whoa.

I threw open my front door. My neighbor, whose car had been missed by mere inches, came out. He was yelling, "Are you OK?" to the driver of the truck. Except, there was no driver. The truck's owner was inside her house while warming up the vehicle. Somehow the truck slipped into gear.

The neighbor had the presence of mind to switch off the ignition and summon the truck's owner. Then the police arrived. Thankfully, only the porch suffered injuries and the tea party went on as planned.   

Still Life With Carrots

Jeff gave me a Rebel XTi for Christmas. I was pretty much afraid of it for all of January. I don't know, I was worried that I would break it or something. But last week, I found my courage and opened the box. Love at first click, I tell ya. I'm going to have a lot of fun with this thing.

Mootsie got a new camera, too. For her birthday, which was a while ago. Seems mom's new camera has sparked her interest in photography. My little shutterbug.

What I Wish I Was Doing This February

Given the choice, this is how I would spend the month of February. Napping all day and getting up only to follow the sun around the house. That, of course, assumes that there is sunshine. We haven't had much of it. Even Mootsie is getting desperate -- I mean really desperate -- for nicer weather. Yesterday, during a 20-minute sunny interlude in the clouds, Mootsie announced, "It's spring! It's spring, mama." I didn't have the heart to tell her that we have a way to go before spring truly arrives. But then I got to thinking, why not seize her enthusiasm and start spring, or at least the planning for spring, now. So today I'm looking into joining a CSA and reading up on starting seeds. Take that, February.

Brownies Interrupted

It's raining and we've been getting bad news by the bucketload here, so naturally my mind turned to brownies. I pulled out a recipe that I've had for four years, but have yet to try -- So-Good-They-Can-Dance Brownies. I melted the chocolate and the butter, went to grab the eggs and, of course, we had none. Sigh. It's just sort of how things have been going here lately. Luckily the local egg delivery service (Jeff) was heading this way and one unhappy toddler, who had been bribed with promised brownies after her nap was appeased with cereal. After much delay, the brownies were made, and I must say, they're seriously righteous.

So-Good-They Can-Dance Brownies (K. Carey)

"These are good under-cooked, overcooked and stale, but they are especially good eaten alone...in secret."

Beat together 5 eggs, 3 cups sugar, 2 tsp. vanilla, and 1/2 tsp salt.
Add 8 oz. of melted butter and 8 oz. melted unsweetened chocolate.
Stir in 1 2/3 cups flour.
Bake in greased 9X9 pan at 350 F for 45 minutes.

Trusty New Table

Last week, I had about 10 minutes to kill, so I dropped into Gardener's Market on my way to pick up Mootsie. I was looking through vintage linens when this table called to me. I'm really not good at accent tables, or lamps and, as we all know, rugs, but I just had a feeling about it. I got up to the register, handed over my card, and the shop owner informed me that her credit card machine had conked out. I didn't have my checkbook or cash. Do you know what the woman said next? She told me to go ahead and take the table and bring her back a check. Seriously. When does that ever happen anymore? If I wasn't giddy enough about finding the table, here was some good ol' fashion trust.

And do you see the rug? Yes, that's the flokati back in action. Something about adding the table, made the rug work. This is a little embarrassing, but can anyone else see the double-sided tape on the sofa? OK, sure now that I pointed it out, you all probably can. We're trying to deter our lovely Vivi from clawing the heck out of yet another sofa. It seems to be working although it's not the prettiest stuff in the world and can be murder on leg hair (Jeff?) if one is not careful.

Weight Lifted

I'm a keeper. Though I desperately wish I wasn't, I am. So when the mood strikes to purge, like it did Sunday afternoon, I have to go with it. While Mootsie napped and Jeff cleaned the house, I gathered up every magazine in the house. We're talking four years worth. OK, wait. I kept any that contained stories written by me and Blueprint, since you know, there won't be any more of those, but that's it. I didn't look through to see if there were photos I might want to save because that's trouble for me. I just tossed. The house feels lighter, and it should. Jeff, who carried the recycling bins to the car, estimates that each weighed 50 plus pounds.

She's a Dancing Machine

Or I should say, Mootsie was a dancing machine. Last Friday was her first and LAST ballet class (at least for a while). Seems mom jumped the gun a wee bit and though she loves to dance and does arabesques of her own volition, she wasn't quite ready for an organized class. She hung tough through nearly 10 minutes of introductions and stretches before she could take no more and had to run and twirl and leap. I winced as the teacher took her firmly by the hand and danced her right out of the studio to me. Did Mootsie care? Nah, she got to rock a leotard and ballet shoes (and continues to do so actually) and after the class was over, and after she was officially expelled, she got busy with her own brand of ballet.