the eye's have it . . .

Katie asked us to come up and check out the used digital Canon Rebel XT she found before she made the actual purchase. It turned out to be a brand new body and I donated my old 28/200 lens to the cause. She has a great eye. It was time for her to make the leap to an SLR. This shot she took last summer is amazing when full size. You can see every drop of water on the quill.

Then just to prove she is her mother's child, she sends me this.

Yep, she will forever be glued to her camera, which will make for some interesting pictures come Christmas morning, especially since now Frank wants a digital SLR. We will look like a family of transformers with robo-eyes . . . Ut oh.

On a side note, I had made and delivered a double batch of chocolate chips cookies. I guess they were an anomaly. One of her friends was delighted when she discovered they were homemade.

Poor Luther . . .

I used to be quirky. I love quirky folk. They live to their own beat. They see with different eyes. They can open new worlds if you'd just pay attention. A prime example is an old friend from college. She just published her second book. Lately by Sara Pritchard. A great read. I loved her first, Crackpots. Her passages read like memories floating just below the surface that come alive with the swish of her pen. There is one description of the contents of an old medicine cabinet and I wondered how she knew what was in ours growing up in the 50's. I love what she evokes. I highly recommend both books. They will indeed open new worlds.

But sometimes, quirky slides over into bizarre. We have one such sliding neighbor. They do exorcisms in the driveway. These rituals always come as a surprise, like this evening: the cacophony, the rhetoric. I am always taken aback. On one such occasion, they were beckoning the devil to come forth from some poor soul via cell phone. It is hard to ignore, even with the windows shut and the air running. Over and over they beseeched the devil to loosen his grip. Then finally, "Get thee Luther, out of this man's soul." That was it. I cracked up. I seriously debated opening the door and yelling back, I think you might have meant "Lucifer."

So where is the line for you? What sneaks from wonderful whimsy to just plain weird in your world?

prehistoric leftovers . . .

we got home yesterday afternoon from the hospital and sat Joe down on one kitchen chair next to the sliders with his foot propped up in another. To make a very long story short, we were looking for tile at Lowe's when a huge package of tiles hopped off a shelf and smooshed four toes on his left foot. OWIE!!!! So while Jackie is adjusting ice packs and the cast is hardening, he looks around and spies yet another beastie in our backyard zoo. Meet Mr. O. Possum.
Now I know if you can't say anything nice, you're supposed to say nothing at all, but I can't help it. This beastie has little appeal. He really looks like a relic from a time gone by. And to make matters worse, he was out in broad daylight, loping around in circles. A-round and a-round and a-round. Pretty odd behavior for he who is supposed to be nocturnal. So we decide to call animal control. Now if you live in a REALLY small town and it is after 5:00, you just ring up the warden at home and over he comes, wiping the last remnants of his dinner from the corner of his mouth. Or if you live in a REALLY big town, they work in shifts and someone is always available. But if you live in Goldilocks' town you get an answering machine advising you to leave a message and someone will call you back . . . maybe. REALLY! No matter, Mr. O. Possum finally lopes himself back into the wood. And, well, on closer inspection, if you ignore the rows of sharp looking chompers, he is rather cute and endearing.

my new kitchen . . .

My brother and sister-in-law called to say they were coming up to see the Martha Stewart house we loved. As I danced around, showing off the house as if I owned it, I couldn't tear myself away from the kitchen, I am fascinated with the whiteness of it all. The floor is 18x18 slabs of black slate, black granite counters, white everything else including the white subway tile as a back splash.

Of course this shot doesn't show the glass fronted pantry, or the french sink work area off to the left with the white wooden shade covered windows. But it has me drooling especially since walking into my kitchen is like entering Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater's home. I got a tad carried away with the terracotta. Ugh. My white tile floor is now chipped from my clumsy fingers dropping cans of Lindsey's Black Olives, or Great Northern Navy Beans oh and the cast iron pot I've had since college. Not to mention the grout that I think I remember once upon a time being white. Or maybe that was someone else's house. My grout is anything but white. So my brain is spinning. If we replaced the white tile with black slate, painted all the cabinets white, did the tile back splash, ta da . . . I'd have my own version. I mean, I already have the black granite counter tops, black stove and black dishwasher. The fridge is white and terracotta, oh wait, that is rust. It will be replaced by a new black french door fridge. Take that Martha Stewart. I am giddy again. Oh and just for the drama of it all, this is the hall entrance to the house taken from the back forward.

You could bowl down that, play hopscotch, roller skate . . . unlimited possibilities!

Hey, Katie, remember these???

The pictures of you getting your hair done by Will.I.Am have been on my desk for, well, gee, this is 2007? Then I guess YEARS. I finally got around to doing something with them. Remember the red tips??? Now who dyed their hair first!!!! Ha! OK, being evil there. Look how gorgeous you are and always were. Love you!!!

p.s. Kelli, see what else you can do with your Bind-it-all!

The Good Samaritan . . .

Frank and I took off after our usual Saturday lunch out, for one of our favorite activities . . . new house snooping. Do we intend to buy . . . nooooooooooooooo? But we love looking. This week we were headed to the new Martha Stewart design houses going up a couple of miles from us. You have to wonder what Martha is doing in our corner of the world. Anyway, they have three models showing. Two were so so and of course I fell in love with the middle one. OMG, slate floors, crown molding on top of crown molding, white bead board, french sink, columns (Frank hated the columns), the house was gorgeous. Whew! I could move right in . . . that's right, me the non-Stewart fan. So I went semi dressed, well I mean for me. White Capri's, white camisole, lavender over blouse. We left there and I convinced Frank he needed a cup of java for the road. No matter that the coffee house is part of a scrapbook store. So he settles in, coffee in hand and the football game on while I wander around picking out more paper . . . like I need paper. We finally leave and head out onto the four lane highway when I spy a turtle in distress. The poor guy is trying to cross the busy road just as it leads onto the interstate. I yell to Frank to pull over and rush out of the car to grab Yertle. Well Yertle doesn't want to be grabbed and now I am hot footing it around major congestion, trying to grab him to save his silly neck. I finally get a grasp on the sucker and realize he is full of slime, unhappy being elevated and thoroughly ticked off at me. I dodged his fat little CLAWED feet but when the head pops out and makes a whooshing snap noise, I realize this is no box turtle, it's a flipping snapper. A darned good sized snapper and it wants me . . . bad!!! So I scurried off to the side of the road trying to figure out who wants me to let go of him more, him or me. It is a moot question as the snap, snap, snap cuts a breeze past the index finger on my left hand and I have no desire to repeat my run in with the wood stork. I let go and he slip slides his way down into the drainage pond from whence I assume he came. I head back to the car with my slimy muddy Yertle hands and white clothing, hoping Frank has a napkin. Nope, we have nothing. And we still need to head to Publix for milk and shrimp. Now you understand why I love my cave????

Ferdinand the bull . . .

Stacie bought me some beautiful flowers for my birthday. She knows!!! Last night one of the blooms was so stunning, I had to capture it. I wish I could take better pictures but I think you can see the pollen laying on the petals. Just gorgeous.

But if I pan out a bit, you will see that I am not the only one enjoying the view. I love watching the world through their very curious eyes!!

kelly, forest, olive, avocado . . . .

I just looked at the long range weather forecast and it looks like rain for the next 10 days. Not too bad when you think how terribly low our water tables are but it has been raining non-stop for the past three days and combine that with heat and no sun and things down here are turning a little green and I am not talking foliage. Our sidewalk is a lovely shade of moss and is slimy . . it is a balancing act just to avoid landing on your . . . ah . . . bottom. So much rain has created havoc with the chemicals in the pool so it has turned a charming pale pea green. The brick pavers that Frank laid last summer under the hot tub are a sickly army green. Now I understand that green is supposed to be a soothing color, a balm for the soul, an oasis of paradise but I keep checking between my fingers to see if I am sprouting mold. I was even suspicious of tonight's broccoli. Why can't slime be blue? Baby blue . . . periwinkle . . . cornflower . . . powder . . . you get my drift. I mean if the sky is blue, why not???

ugly beasts . . . beautiful birds

My loft window faces a little plot of trees, some of which took a beating in the 2004 hurricanes. I looked out one morning not so long ago and spied a hawk in the top of a dead pine and immediately snapped a couple of shots. Keep in mind, I am blinder than a bat. When I finally uploaded the shots, I was not all that surprised to see it was not a hawk after all but a turkey buzzard. Yuck.And of course this is not the first time. Frank was looking out the same window one morning and told me of the circling hawks landing in a neighbors tree. I ran out to take some pictures. Again, they were turkey buzzards. So I scrapped them. What the heck.

But lest you think all we get are turkey buzzards, this beautiful guy also landed in our neighbors tree one day.

So nasty or gorgeous, I am thankful I can look out my window and see these creatures. And besides, I bet Mrs. Buzzard thinks Mr. Buzzard is a pretty spiffy dude.

college bound . . .

Katie left this evening, headed back to school. This time with her best bud, sleeping companion and confidante . . . Moak in tow. Of course the TBFBC was not pleased to see a cage, especially given his recent escapades requiring one, but our afternoon shopping expedition scored a BIG comfy cage for the ride. So while he rode shotgun, the back was packed with a new litter pan, liners, litter, cat food; wet and dry, treats, new bowls, scoop, a catnip toy and miniature dust pan and broom. Talk about baggage!!!

An hour and a half later I get my obligatory, "I'm here, mom", phone call. This time with a blow by blow description of Moak's wanderings around his new digs. He seems to prefer the underside of her futon for the time being. It will take him awhile but he will adjust. Remember she has a lot of my loft furniture that was his lounging area for a long time. Should smell delightfully like home. I'll give him less than 48 hours before he is King of Kollege. On the other hand, Frank is not so happy. Moak was also his bud. He is sad. But Ninja will help. She is a terror and a hand full. So far we have found her half way up the faux tree in the dining room, doing a balancing act on the towel rack on the shower door, and tap dancing after a scrunched up piece of scrap paper. Another new chapter.

it's raining J's . . .

Katie came home with yet another J. They are multiplying as fast as rabbits. And still as much fun to alter. As soon as we solve the seemingly inevitable holes in the wall dilemma, they will be wall candy.

little blue knobs . . .

We went to Lowe's today and came home with 10 little baby blue drawer pulls for the cabinets. Amazing how little things make me happy. Frank also hung my MM shelf so I immediately stashed my ribbon jars in it. Of course there is another drawer chocked full of MORE ribbon. OK, I am a ribbon freak. The blinds are in and we also picked up the wood for the bracket-less shelves for my stamps. One step at a time . . .

In the meantime, I watched Moak hop up on my bed, sniff around and squat. Yes, SQUAT. I flew across the room, gathered up the sheets and mattress protector, screeching like the banshee I am. As soon as the washing machine was churning away, I called the vet. The only time Moak squats inappropriately, has been due to a UTI. $126.00 later and no UTI, it seems he is just OPOC* The cause? . . . kittens . . . a bad hair cut . . . who knows. His imminent departure will make him a happier camper, having Katie all to himself.

Frank and I will miss him. just not the squatting.

* One Pissed Off Cat.

two jays . . .

Actually, this is J's 2 and 3. Three was on the card I received in the mail. They are multiplying. Right now I am into this brown and blue thing to match my studio. Very much fun. Thanks Sheri.

kittens are the most curious little monsters . . .

. . . and Bear and Ninja are finally out of quarantine. At first, we let them explore without the benefit of their bigger brothers breathing down their necks. Tiny Ninja has no fear. She bounded around for a few minutes and then, down the stairs she flew. She did put on the brakes at the bottom of the stairs for maybe two seconds and then she was off. Every nook and cranny had to be explored, sniffed, poked and pounced upon. She appeared from under the sofa with dust bunnies clinging to one ear. Her eyes wide, she was unstoppable. I finally retrieved her and brought her back upstairs to a little more reserved Bear. It isn't that Bear isn't curious, it is just that it is tempered with hesitation. The feeling that back between mom's legs is a good place to be after each short excursion. Gotta love being home base. After a few days of exploration, it was time to meet the BOYS. Moak and Snoop. Surprisingly, Snoop was much better behaved. Moak tolerated Bear's sniffing and then whupped him a good one on the head. This time Bear was half way up my p.j.'s before he calmed down. Snoop on the other hand seems to adore Bear. Ninja not so much. So with very little hissing or pouting, we have enlarged our family to sixteen paws, four noses and 7,952 whiskers. Life is good.

The Bulldog from Bergen County . . .

Anyone see Cinderella Man or know who James Braddock is? He is a prize fighter and one of his many nicknames was The Bulldog from Bergen County. Now that Moak is sporting his new hair cut, Frank has started referring to him and TBFBC. And if you look at him from behind, you'll can see why. Poor Moak resembles not a cat at all but a very stocky bulldog. Good thing we love him.

sometimes it really is a dog's life . . .

Up early to take Kaity to school and Moak to the vet for his "Lion Cut". But first a bath. No problem, I am now use to two little visitors stalking me in the tub. Ninja marches on the edge of the tub. When he stops, another little head pops up between his legs. Bear evidently needs to see what is going on. Well the edge is slippery and most cats at some point in their lives, take a dive. Today was Ninja's day. As I pluck a very surprised, very wet kitten from the water, he looks at me in total amazement. Bear meanwhile, is strolling around the toilet seat intent on the water down below. Too little to stick his head in for a drink, the ingenious little beast sticks one paw in, cups some water and licks it, repeat process until sated. Crack me up.

11:00 the vet calls. Moak is not exactly the most happy camper and they are going to have to sedate him to finish the job. If you are new to my blog, Moak is an almost 20 something pound, long haired, Persian. His hair is matted and he is headed to college on Sunday. He is now sporting a spiffy lion cut. He is not particularly happy to be lacking in the hair department but craves lots of petting since the knots are gone.

Everyone has had their share of adventures for the day. I am sure they would have rather spent the time lazing around but hey, life happens.

yummy, yummy . . .

Frank is loose in the kitchen again. In keeping with fazing out red meat, we are trying to eat more vegetable based meals. I love the flavor of grilled veggies so we have been eating a lot of grilled side dishes. Tonight, we decided to grill red peppers, onions, mushrooms, zucchini, and cherry tomatoes and then toss them in an olive oil base, infused with garlic and shallots and served over angel hair pasta. OMG. Delish!!! The basil, parsley and oregano are still wafting though the house. YUM.

And, the blinds for my studio and Katie's room were finally installed. Sweet.

On the down side, HP sent me my missing power cord. Unfortunately, it is not the right one. I'll be back on the phone with India in the morning. Ugh.

Tomorrow morning, Moak gets packed off to the vet's for a Lion Cut, so he will arrive at college in grand style. In reality, it is for comfort only. His hair gets matted this time of year. Chlorinated water splashes out of the pool and he lays in it. It is sticky and soon so is his fur.

the letter J . . .

Katie came home for the weekend and brought me a present . . . two wooden J's. Since I am up long before anyone else in the house, I played around with the first one this morning. Of course how they slept through all the hammering is a testament to their ability to block me out. Hummm, seems they do that when they are awake too!?! At any rate, I thought I'd share.

winter has come and gone . . .

the last of the seasonal projects is done for the RSS. Winter was the last one. Now I can take a break and work on some of my own projects . . . or spend more time with the kittens!!