yes sir, that's my toilet...no sir, i didn't soil it

Okay, so I lie.

But the last of the toilets has finally set and (ahem) properly broken in.

Remember when I had to pee in the basement?

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o canadel!

This is the story of a table and a light fixture, and a table (and a light fixture).

This is our trusty old table that graced our former kitchen for nearly 15 years.  Phil bought it new in 1992, so it's been around a good 22 years.  It's a Tell City set.  (Another American furniture business that's unfortunately no longer around.)  It still looks like new, even after 22 years of child abuse.

Wait.  That didn't come out right.

Here it is in our old house:

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make. this. cake. {the sloppy chef series}

So, today is my birthday.



I'm giving you a few moments to let that sink in so you can remember to wish me happy birthday in the comments section below.

I wouldn't want you to forget.

Did I mention today is my birthday?

I checked back a year ago on my blog and it turns out my birthday was on the same day last year, too.  I made a cake for myself that day as well.

Anyway, I made this cake to take to work for "food day."  Yes, we bring in food for our own food day.  People think it's nuts that we have to bring in our own food-day food.  (I actually like to make stuff so it's okay.)

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craigslist dresser makeover {a diabolical plan goes awry}

Remember this little mirror makeover?  If I were you, I'd be too lazy to click the link, so here's a quick before-and-after:

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you'd like waquine, he doesn't like beets

Willie: You can't vote, ALF, you're not a citizen.

ALF: I'll apply for a green card.

Willie: That's only if you want a job.

ALF: Pass.
.
.
.

ALF: I know...I'll marry Lynn, become a citizen, vote, then drop her of like a hot potato.

Willie: ALF...

ALF: Sure it will be hard on her first. She'll cry, drink a little too much. Join with a bongo player named Waquine.

Willie: ALF.

ALF: You'd like Waquine, he doesn't like beets.

Willie: Neither you nor Waquine may marry my daughter and you may not vote.

ALF: Fine. I have no voice in government, Waquine will get deported, and they'll make him eat beets.

Willie: How many cups of coffee have you had?

ALF: Forty. Why?

source

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clean eating and poop

I made an earth-shattering announcement last week that I was "going clean" for a week.  I told my friend Anya I'd been eating clean, and she says, "I eat clean."  I think she meant she scrubs her armpits before she eats because she was giggling when she said it.

Since I don't have anything else to talk about at the moment, I thought I'd give you the results (and talk about poop).  

First of all, I'll share with you that I have an IBD: Ulcerative Colitis.  I don't talk about it because it's really not a huge issue for me.  But it does affect my poop.

I was actually feeling pretty normal before a week ago.

Eating clean has turned me into Miss Loosey Goosey, if you get my drift.  Not that I was Miss Baseball Bat before.

Did I draw too sharp a mental image?  I've done my job then.

My week is up, and I've decided to move forward with my clean eating for as long as I can.  I'm hoping my system will adjust accordingly.

Basically, I ate nothing processed.  No boxed cereal for breakfast, no sugar, no white flour (almost no flour actually), no store-bought bread, muffins, no chocolate-wax donuts from the vending machine, no soda, no wine....no wine....no wine....whine....

I could go on forever.

What did I eat?  Fish, chicken, pork, veggies, fruits, green smoothies, whole grains (quinoa, barley, etc.), dried beans (yes I cooked them), ho-made peanut butter (thanks Daniela!)....You get the idea.  Pretty much anything that started as one, whole, unprocessed ingredient.  Some of what I ate was organic, but not everything.

I'd never tried quinoa before, and I found I really like it.  In fact, I found the weirdest combination that I now crave.  I made a (sort of) parfait for breakfast containing quinoa, greek yogurt, assorted fruits, a drizzle of agave, peanut butter, and granola.  I mixed the whole mess together and it was divine.

I don't have a picture of it.  But I could try and draw another mental image if you'd like.  It wasn't very pretty after I mixed it all up.  Oh, never mind.

So, after a week of giving up the garbage I usually stuff into my face, I have loose poop, and I've lost 8 pounds.

Before you get too excited, keep in mind that at least 5 of those pounds were nothing more than water bloat.  And I must say, I no longer feel like a bloated toad.

source

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