Saturday, August 29, 2015

they paved paradise...and put up a pa-ti-o {and a sidewalk}

Zappos loves me.  The feeling is mutual.  Consequently, the UPS man despises me.

Why? 

Because we've lived in our new abode coming up on 2 years and we still don't have a sidewalk.  Mud?  Yep.  Weeds?  You got it.  Big, tall step up to the front porch?  Even Eddie sometimes despises me no he doesn't.




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Saturday, August 22, 2015

that d@mn cat {part deux}

She's back.

If you missed episode one, see that HERE.

No, seriously. Go check it out...you won't regret it.  Well, maybe you will, but that's not my problem is it?


Izzy has graced us with her presence religiously since her reappearance in November 2013.  I prefer to think of it as her reincarnation because that makes way more sense considering I was Shirley MacLaine in a previous life.

Unfortunately, Izzy didn't come back as a cabana boy.

We're used to going a day or two, or even three (occasionally) without seeing the little hairball.  Gone missing a week to 10 days?  That's reason to celebrate worry.

Philly: She's gone this time.  We're never going to see her again.  I'm burning her house.

Me: This has all happened before, and it will all happen again.  Don't burn her house just yet.  You know if you do, she'll turn up and you'll have to build her a new one.

Joyful, cat-free days fly by with no sightings.  We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.

Then Emma comes home for a couple days. The jig is up. We're going to have to break the glorious news.

Strangely, Emma doesn't seem the least bit concerned.  Clearly, she doesn't give two craps about her cat like we do.

Soon it's time for Emma to take her leave, so we're all saying our fare-thee-wells, and Emma decides to say goodbye to Izzy.  She walks along the side of the house and calls for That Damn Cat.

Philly and I exchange knowing glances. That Damn Cat is Gone, Girl.  Never to be seen again.  She's dust in the wind "mrrweow...??"

....as the pussy-footed little shite comes wandering out of the rose bushes like she's been there all along.

Of course, Emma is clueless as my mouth gapes open while Japanese beetles swarm my epiglottis.

Oh, and it's all love, love, love freakin purr, purr, purr.




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Friday, August 7, 2015

i'm so glad you cuss

If you have delicate sensibilities and the F-Bomb is hopelessly offensive to you, turn your ship around now.

the story of c"us"s

You may recall a post from two years ago when I impressed you with some wedding stuff because it was our 14th adversity day.  If not, here's a taste.  Yes, we're classy.




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Monday, April 20, 2015

onward, kitchen soldiers! {buzz lightrail... to the rescue!}

Do you remember where we left off?  Because I sure don't...

Oh yes.  Skin tags, crown moulding, and unfortunate squash. Silly me.

I love the look of a wall cabinet that is finished on the bottom with some kind of moulding, whether it's functional (light rail) or not.  Once Philly realized I didn't make this concept up to torture him, he was fully on board.

The cabinets in our old house weren't "finished out" on the bottom, but they were very light cabinets and the cabinet boxes were also light.  So the unfinished business didn't really scream at you even if you turned your head and looked under the cabinets' skirts.


kitchen in our old house

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Sunday, April 12, 2015

pizza nirvana {the sloppy chef series}

Greetings, old friends and new!

Firstly, I was going to combine the title of this post and call it "pirvana," but you may have then expected a documentary on depraved, flesh-eating fish.  While this would be quite exciting, I don't currently have data on this subject.

I haven't posted about food in a very long time.  This is due to the fact I mostly eat everything before my food has a chance to pose for my Nikon point-and-shoot.

You may recall my pizze! post from a gentler, pre-home-building time.  I still love that recipe, but I am constantly searching to better myself, further grow my butt (not growths ON my butt, to be clear), and finally reach that state of Pizza Bliss.

My friends...by endeavoring to persevere, I believe my quest is very, very close to an end.  A somewhat large end.

I can't claim this recipe to be my own, but I would if I thought I could get away with it.  I will give credit where credit is due.  I did, however, manage to shove my camera between my mouth and the pizza and took some of my own pictures, just to prove I'd actually constructed it with my own two chubby paws.

Here is the amazing recipe I followed to the letter (okay, it's not the recipe, it's a link to the recipe...you folks know how this works):

OMGFREAKINGYUMMYPIZZA

I have not yet investigated this technique on other sites, but this one worked GREAT!

The crust crux of the technique is to place the dough and toppings in a COLD cast-iron skillet, then put it on your stovetop and crank your burner up to HIGH for several minutes, then put it in your 450 preheated oven to finish the job.

Simply amazing.  The crust was crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside.  Just as Sausageaus, the pizza god, intended.

Please go check out Nick's site for the amazing how-to.  It was SO easy and totally worth it!!

In the meantime, feast your eyes on pictures only someone with amazingly no photographic talent can provide:

Enter the dough (aka butt-enlarger):


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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

onward, kitchen soldiers! {crown royal!}

So I discovered a skin tag on the underside of my right boob this morning.  What is the meaning of this?  What is the purpose of this useless cruelty?

Why am I talking about my boob?

This next part of the kitchen reveal makes me want to sing!  Which is very bad for anyone who is not suffering serious hearing loss.

First, the gratuitous booze shot:

source

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Thursday, March 26, 2015

happy doggieversary to meeeee!

Hi!  It's me!  Eddie!



First of all, I'd like to give a big shout-out to my Buddy Franklin, who told me it was okay to take over Mom's Blog.

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Wednesday, March 25, 2015

kitchen storage solutions {hometalk curated board!}

Greetings!

My friend Danni at Silo Hill Farm posted a board on fairy gardens that Hometalk asked her to curate.  Danni also encouraged us to get involved with Hometalk if we weren't already.

Well heck, I always do as I'm told.  Like that time when I was little and my sister told me to go ahead and tinkle through my undies into the toilet.  And I did.  I have no idea why she thought that would be funny, or why I was stupid enough to do it, but I continue blindly following others' orders no I don't regardless of how they may affect my psyche.

This experience was much more fun.  And considerably drier.

Holy smokes.

I'd been on Hometalk less than a day, and they featured my Pot Farm! post on their Facebook page, and the results were nothing less than astonishing.

I nearly peed my pants.  Again.

Then Liz at Hometalk invited me to curate a clipboard on storage ideas.  I don't know what the heck curate means, so I look it up and now I have to assist a priest or something.


Maybe there's an old priest, a young priest, and a can of pea soup involved...but I digress.

I'm somewhat unsure about this exorcism, but...I soldiered on.

As it turns out, curating a board has nothing to do with anyone's immortal soul, which immediately put me at ease.  I had a fun time cruising through the site, coming up with some fun storage projects.  Naturally, I included my own.  I'm not above self-promotion.


see original post HERE

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Monday, March 16, 2015

onward, kitchen soldiers! {pot farm!}


My sister came home for a visit last summer.  She lives in Alaska where she eats fresh muskox, sunbathes nude, doesn't wear deodorant, and doesn't shave.

Perhaps you really are what you eat.

not my actual sister


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Saturday, February 28, 2015

broken, but not defeated

You may recall my Christmas fail picture I posted on Facebook on, well, Christmas.  If not, here's a refresher.  My beloved Lolita piano wine glass:




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Sunday, February 22, 2015

onward, kitchen soldiers! {mighty morphin power range hood!}

I wouldn't blame Phil if he locked me in the basement forever.  I've insisted demanded sweet-talked my way into all kinds of fun gadgets he's never heard of or ever cared to install.

One of these gadgets is my Mighty Morphin Power Range Hood.

And I have my own Power Ranger to install it.  Isn't he sexy??  Yep, this is my Philly!




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Monday, February 16, 2015

onward, kitchen soldiers! {backsplash!}

Let me first thank everyone for their kind words after Nancy's passing.  It meant so very much to me and Phil!

Now....onto the post...

We've been lazy bums.  No more!

When we last encountered our home-building heroes we were...I have absolutely no idea.  It's been that long.

My poor kitchen has been stagnating like a blocked colon.  Time for a cleanse!

Here's where we left off.





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Sunday, February 8, 2015

nancy philsister

I'd like to take a moment to honor one of the greatest women I've ever had the privilege to know and love.

I met my Philly nearly 18 years ago.  Shortly thereafter, I was introduced to his only sibling, Nancy.



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Sunday, January 25, 2015

nights at my round table

Greetings fellow dragon slayers!

I have been totally antisocial lately, which is not a great quality in a blogger.  I won't try and make excuses because excuses are BS.  I'm owning my misanthropic behavior.

So, let's forget my dereliction of duty and move forward, for crying in your beer cheese soup.

I've been searching for an end table to reside next to the sofa and the Butter Chair.  It couldn't be a piece with an unfinished (or hairy) back, since it will be seen from all sides (not up against a wall).

My Jeep was on autopilot the other month and we ended up at the Goodwill.  My Spidey senses started tingling immediately and I walked straight up to this beauty and promptly shat myself.

It was in amazing condition, and the old price of $10 was scratched off and it was marked down to $5.

Seriously?  $5 for all this walnutty goodness????



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