April 27, 2009



Wear & Tear=Repair

April 20, 2009

I spent this weekend working on random house projects. One thing led to another, which led to another and so on.

  • Tracked down source of the bad smell (which ended up being rotten food stuck deep inside the Kong) and cleaned out the refrigerator. Tossed old jar of sundried tomatoes, kept expired (but still unopened) bottle of pepperoncini, finally scrubbed away the maple syrup that’s been on that top shelf for, like, ever.
  • Opened windows, broke window; fixed stuck bedroom window (after consultation with neigbor who–though he lifts weights–also couldn’t open stuck window. Used two pieces of 2×4 as levers and..presto!)
  • Re-attached garden hose and turned on the spigot. Which still seems to work, though there is some leakage.
  • Figured out how to load staple gun. Loaded it.
  • Re-stapled bowed and bent chicken wire around the garden. No more Daisy hangout.
  • Set up old picnic bench. Need to paint a nice shade of celadon or apple green.
  • Took out Weber grill. Decided backyard was beginning to look like a yardsale. Stored grill back in garage.
  • Weeded front flower bed. Took chicken bone out of Daisy’s mouth.
  • Made black bean soup and added vegetarian chipotle sausage to it.  Burned mouth.

Spring Lamb

April 17, 2009

We often don’t know how far we’re willing to go for someone we love. But then one day you find yourself with a dog who has food allergies and the next thing you know, you’re boiling a $27 lamb loin for her supper while you eat rice and beans for yours.

I’m a vegetarian cook for lots of reasons, but the top reason is that I can’t stand to touch raw flesh. So last night I had to grin and bear it as I cleaned the loin and put it in the pot.  After an hour, I pulled it from its vat of fat, let it cool, and sliced it into small chunks for my girl. Interesting how her grass-eating and vomiting seemed to cease while she waited attentively at my feet for her supper. I left the windows open to air out the smell of greasy butchering and looked fondly at her small green bag of California Natural kibble.  The vet has put her on three days of home-cooked lamb and potatoes, then we’ll slowly re-introduce her dry food.

Until then, it’s lamb, baby, lamb.

Legal Love

April 8, 2009

I love my little house here in upstate New York, but I’ll always be a Vermonter at heart.  And here‘s just another reason to feel proud of my home state–it’s involved in a “watershed moment” in history! I love it.

Spring Musings

April 7, 2009

It turns out that I’m actually a morning person. I had my suspicions that the wee hours of the day might be for me, though I fought it for a long time. But there’s nothing like house-breaking a dog and a few writing deadlines to make you jump out of bed before the alarm goes off. So now that the deadlines are finished and I’ve trained Daisy to go outside and come back in for a morning nap from 5:30-7:00, I find I have a delicious window of free time. It’s enough time to make coffee, put away dishes, turn on the MacBook and do some writing. Granted, it’s a small window of time, but I’m finding that I’m actually more productive in short limited bursts than long infreqent blocks of time.  Duh. Why has it taken me so long to figure this out?

Speaking of short bursts, I went to stay with a friend in NYC for one night and two whirlwind days of eating, shopping, and getting lost. We discovered a mighty fine vegetarian kosher Indian restaurant in Murray Hill called Pongal where we ate crispy spinach fritters and dosas. Who knew? I’d spent time in mid-town before, but I didn’t realize that there were cute little neighborhood cafes tucked away. Like Penelope, for instance. Did I mention the Nutella french toast and the egg and cheese and pesto on a croissant? Delish. Plus, a great place to see the up-and-coming next generation of financiers in their Burberry coats and Tods.

So now I’m home and my crocuses are up and my tulips appear poised for action.  Fingers crossed that we don’t get any of that snow because I refuse to shovel anything that’s not dirt.