Friday, October 29, 2010

I know, your life just hasn't been the same...

I apologize for my absence (An illness in the family has kept me away for a while). Thank you to all who continue to do, say, and write things that remind me of the good, and the funny, and the interesting all around me - fodder for upcoming posts abounds. I hope to see you soon.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise

Oh, Amazon's good ol' "If you like..." and "More items for you"...

Ray LaMontagne's God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise and Mumford & Sons's Sigh No More. Haven't even opened yet - will give a review next week. And by the way, I still really love actually buying CDs.
I adore the Made From Scratch cover.
A weekend project...
I found two of these in "the plant" (Papa's Turner Farm Sausage building) and decided they might look nice on my front porch. Word of Advice: Decide how much Krylon Blue Ocean Breeze you think you will need. Buy twice that much.

An excerpt from Bill Ellis's essay, "History Is Always Personal" which can be found in the October issue of Kentucky Monthly...

"More frightening than the lack of historical knowledge is the loss of a sense of irony. We need another public intellectual like Reinhold Niebuhr, the author of The Irony of American History, who explained to a post-World War II, Cold War-era America that in opposing totalitarianism (or organized terrorism today) we must not lose sight of the frailties of our own humanity. We are fallible human beings in a fallible world. Nothing will ever be perfect, but it is the quest to make this world better that makes us human, humane and noble.

Unfortunately, a sense of irony has been replaced by a cult of bitterness in public discourse. It is not ironic to cult of bitterness conservatives that the 'War on Terror' continues to produce terrorists. It is not ironic to cult of bitterness liberals that a well-meaning law cannot change society for the better overnight.

History is personal for you and me. To be fully engaged public citizens, we must cultivate opinions based on a working knowledge of history."

Friday, October 1, 2010

Shanks, C

I really love going out to eat. I enjoy exploring websites, looking for fonts, colors, and graphics that reflect a restaurant that "looks like me" (Ex. how I found The Tomato Head in Knoxville). I am probably one of few people who really likes listening to a server talk about specials on a given day (especially when they tack on, "it's really good," and accompany said descriptor with an unmistakable sparkle in their eye). I try to order things that I don't know how - or would just never think - to make at home. I have to hide frustration when others at my table order the same thing as someone else.

With all that being said, sometimes there's nothing better than a grilled cheese.
I'm not snobby about it; I will eat and enjoy a slice of processed American cheese on enriched white flour sliced bread (which we had at mom's a few nights ago...with tater tots and homemade vegetable soup). However, I do occasionally like to spice things up a bit. One of my favorites is apples, bleu cheese, toasted walnuts, and some sort of balsamic vinaigrette on sour dough bread (idea came from Stella's on Jefferson St. in Lexington).

What are some of your favorite grilled cheese combinations?
I want to share two wonderful gifts...
1) Terry (the co-worker who so graciously helped me move a couple of weeks ago) found this today while out and about at the Roller Coaster Yard Sale. She said she saw it and just thought of me. It, along with Isabella and Leigh Ann's lunch time visit to the Library, absolutely made my day.
2) It's been a while since I've talked about how much I love Miss Caroline Kraft,'s an ode to the friendship I am so very lucky to share with this amazing woman. And, a sneak peak into the epistolary novel that we plan to publish one day.

Ode to the girl who knows the sound of the latch,
the one who will do yoga with me and not laugh,
the roommate who ignored my 6:00 am Saturday wake-ups,
and the classmate whose bellychain jingled as quietly as mine.
Ode to the friend who knows I owned an inordinately puffy, puffy coat
the girl who would look stylishly cute even in the puffiest of coats,
the traveler who has lived and been much cooler places than I,
and yet, the Marrowbone visitor who still enjoys a front porch.
Ode to the best friend whose handwriting makes me smile,
the best friend whose honesty doesn't make me defensive,
the best friend who I genuinely love as much as a sister,
the best friend who I am thankful for every day.