night lights . . .

In my middle of the night wanderings around the net, I came across this site and you just know I had to try it out. Of course as usual, I failed to read the full directions and when I hit the part about curing over night, I knew I was in trouble. Nothing a hair dryer couldn't handle. So this was sitting on our front porch welcoming the trick or treaters. Fun to make.

almost as good as garlic . . .

a free class from Jessica Sprague . . .



"No digital scrapbooking or Photoshop experience is needed, just some holiday stories to tell. :)"

comfort food . . .

While still quite uncomfortable, I once again dragged the 9TS out for dinner at Carrabba's. He sits there just so long and then we bolt. Thankfully, Richard . . . our waiter . . . understands. Tonight he got the kitchen to prepare the haddock with marinara sauce. The 9TS really perked up. And since I couldn't make up my mind and was asking about bruschetta, Richard came back with a caprese salad with pesto sauce. I think I died and went to heaven. Perfect. One more time folks: what's not to love about garlic! Happily, we waddled out the door.

normal?

I live in a normal neighborhood . . . well except for the exorcists next door . . . but every neighborhood has one of them right? Baahaaa! (sorry). Being just days until Halloween, I decided to meander the three cul-du-sacs to inhale some seasonal sensory sublime-ness . . . . which translates into . . . without Katie, we don't decorate and I was missing it.

Of course I took my camera. And as I stood, squatted, and generally pointed said camera in every direction, I noticed something odd about the decorations. Where are the cute pumpkins? The straw scarecrows? The bales of hay? Where was the Indian corn? Hummm.


Credits: Pumpkin, Webbing: SNA, Fonts: CK_Ali's Writing, Chiller

Nope. We have gory hands coming up from the ground. Pumpkin ghosts hanging from tree. Skeletons propped up on mailboxes. So much for sweetness and light. What exactly does this say about "the hood?" I don't know but I love it.

And on other non-related topics, Kaity needed help on an assignment that required scanning and merging. It's been well over a year since I have had a need to "stitch" a layout and never since acquiring CS4. What a breeze! So much easier than the old 2,976 step program.



So here is old Luna . . . coming and going in the same photo. Have I told you recently how giddy CS4 makes me? Giddy! Giddy! Giddy!

what's not to like about . . .

tomatoes, garlic, basil and fresh mozzarella. Oh, and some olive oil and balsamic vinegar. NOTHING! I was watching Ina Garten the other day and she was making this Roasted Tomato Caprese Salad. So you know I had to try it. I checked out the comments first and bought a loaf of stick bread, sliced it and popped it under the broiler until crisp. Tomatoes in this neck of the woods are pathetic. Tasteless. But as promised, the slow roasting did the trick. Since I was just cooking for the 9TS and myself, I halved the recipe. I could have made the full serving but would have had to waddle around for hours until I was comfortable again . . . it was sooooo good. A definite "do again". I also would have taken a picture but somehow, it was inhaled before the thought crossed my mind. Oh, glorious yum.

Now, as soon as there is room, we are having Shrimp Aioli for dinner. The garlic is going to be permeating out our pours. Does life get any better?

groan . . .

credits: Paper: Lynne Grieveson, Stitches: Anna Aspnes, Leaf: Pixel Works, Brads: Jeanine Baechthold, Mask: Lynne Favreau, Fonts: Arial, You Are Loved, Rage Italica.

home sweet home . . .

Let's regress here a bit. Long before I was happily married to the 9TS and had a 21 year old. I was a college student on a small bucolic campus. It was a stunning place. I remember it fondly if hazily. As a matter of fact, I liked it so much, I stayed on in town for another three years before heading south to my present location. Often in my late night meanderings through the net, I come across a gem. This one almost got away from me. I looked at it several times before the light bulb went off.



This I filched from Jim Patterson's Post Cards from Snyder County. See that little arched window on the upper left side of the house? That was my roost for a year. One of two attic apartments in a 100+ year old farm house. I loved looking out that window down the end of the Isle and off into the river. It was from my neighbor's matching window that I looked out and saw a "plastic bag" on the ground a little ways off. The bag was moving. As I went down to investigate, I grabbed my landlord, Mrs. Burgard, who being much more savvy than I, grabbed a towel. The baby lamb was in perfect shape. Awesome.

That front door was also the site of my slipping on ice and finding myself flopping on the ground like a landed pike. Sigh.

The summer after I vacated the premises, hurricane Agnes came roaring through and decimated the area. I went back to visit Mrs. Burgard to see how she and the family had fared. Mud and yuck dribbled out of her kitchen drawers as she opened them one by one to clean. Simply awful.

It was an odd but wonderful place to live . . . that aerie of mine.