My date with Ruby

Naptime. Gorgeous weather. Jungleman slumbering. Ruby picked the exact right moment to suggest "We can go for a walk? Adventure, Mommy!" How could I refuse? I caved like a poorly executed souffle, and I loved every second.

So, the nap skipping minx and I pumped up the tires of the off-roading wagon barrow and trotted off to the coffee shop.

We scoffed at the traditional lunch menu and instead chose a chocolate mint truffle, giant cookie and draught porter. Daytime decadence! We admired this month's art installment, tried out every seat in the house like a couple of silly Goldilox and Ruby snapped many photos of me and her glass of water.

We wandered leisurely back home and hopped in the car to go treasure hunting at the thrift store. We scored orange things, a dress for me, a hat for her, and a leather jacket to sacrifice to my scissors for a special christmas dolly.

Verdict? Highly successful small adventuring and I look forward to having more naughty bonding dates with my sweet intelligent little miss in the years to come. Chocolate for lunch? I guess I'm either the worst mommy....or the BEST MOMMY EVER.

Cilantro Scallion Oil

This recipe is from the hot haute kitchen of Wolfie, I just added cilantro.





What you need:

• scallions
• cilantro
• olive oil
• small glass container
• some kind of blender
• style

I think the pictures are self explanatory. Combine. Blend. Transfer. Dance. Feed herb sprigs to silly children(sorry, "baby goats"). Flavor improves in the fridge. Shake the beauteous green drops on anything, stir frys, eggs, tacos, ice cream, or just for pretty on a big white plate. I just had some on my fish curry and doubled my satisfaction.

Bits'n'Pieces

1. let's learn about static
2. fun with trash
3. teeny flower
4. desperate caffeine measures
5. travis's chair
6. marker trove from felicia
7. delectable cheeks
8. age rings-new life
9. ruby and "teddy boop"
10. flashdance and monsters
11. ramblin' jungleman

Let's date

The hot date! I almost forgot. It happened. It was magical and marvelously, monstrously satisfying.

Joanna was a champ and came to our raucous living room in time for us to make social hour at Uchiko. I could talk for pages about the delectable pampering we received at the hands of Ali, who was our personal sushi master (18 years of experience) for over two hours. It was a feast for my eyes and my palette to watch him at work, and I hardly wanted to eat it when he completed each beautiful little pile but I did. I swooned. Warm saki, squid ink reduction? fried anise, fried milk. I wish I could remember the names of everything, but it's best I don't make you too hungry.

I have a hard time being spoiled in any way, it makes me uncomfortable when I know someone is expending great energy for my smallest comfort. I don't get massages, don't get pedicures, I never send a plate back at a restaurant-there could be an entire braid of hair in it, but I don't want to have them throw it away and remake it, horror! I don't even order things from cocktail waitresses and I used to be one.

However, because he was such an artist this time I just soaked it all in. I could tell he took pride in the food and presentation and it gave him pleasure to see us licking our chops. Aside from gastronomically it was also psychologically good for me.

We sneaked back home to grab our bikes (thanks for loaning us your sweet mount Allen, you saved our marriage!) and had a glorious ride, not too cold or warm, bombing down hills, cutting through campus, running stop lights. Fueled by gold sushi we owned the streets and reveled being just two again.

We skidded into the Club DeVille parking lot like a couple of twitterpated rascals and I pulled my heels from my purse and switched out of my blue sneaks to become...Amazon Cape Girl , who never spends her days changing diapers and doing dishes, nay! She only wears impractical and beautiful clothing, sups on ambrosia and elk foam, and flits around on the arm of a handsome minstrel without a care of the hour.

We had the good fortune to schedule our date on the same evening as the LAST WALTZ and the music was amazing, soul warming and nostalgic. We embraced a dozen friends, sipped gin drinks with elderberry flower and orange bitters and sneaked out by midnight for one last jaunt to the east side and our favorite patio at the Yellow Jacket. We cheered the manly exertions of the next table's arm wrestling competition, met up with Heidi and Matt and snuggled amongst the bamboo.

Rather than risk death by frat boy drunken mow-down we called up Adrian with his illegal pickup truck-gypsy cab and had a leisurely escort back to reality.

If my memory had a belly, it would be fat and happy.

Thanksgives

Yes, we are american. Yes, we ate turkey on Thanksgiving. Yes, we all wanted to carve out our own stomachs with the greasy knife to set aside until the feast had been properly digested.

We went small this year and fore-went the giant rowdy potluck we usually attend and opted to stay home, relax, and cook yummy things in our pjs. Heidi and Matt joined us after watching some "sport game" (soccer?) with wine, hugs and a beautiful bird in tow.

Ruby made a croissant roll in the shape of a manatee, Matt made amazing wild mushroom stuffing, and Jesse made noise.

It was perfect. I could list all the things for which I am thankful, but I don't need a special day to do that. That's what this blog is for.

Gesundheit

Today's forecast for productivity:
LOW.

Today's forecast for fun:
INEVITABLE.

kitty nest

Autumn. The time of year when kitties build their winter nests and spiky desert plants have blankets of cool bright leaves.

Well, at least MY cat builds winter nests. Good kitty.

We like to tell Ruby that Lola is a striped cat. Black with black stripes.

We also like to tell her that if she doesn't eat her breakfast she will grow a beard. She doesn't quite believe us, but when we declare we see a hair or two sprouting from her chin she definitely yowls and scarfs a few extra bits of apple.

I looking forward to using the 'pool shark' threat. You know, if you don't wait 30 minutes after eating before swimming- the pool shark can smell the pepperoni on your breath and will gobble you up like a sweet, screaming bon bon.

Did your parents utilize mythological tactics to get you to behave? I'd love to add more to my arsenal.