As Seen in Suburban New Jersey

On a traffic signal post (amid all the other signs of the times). Nowhere near the Los Angeles International Airport and pointing east, instead of west. Very odd.

Fighting Asparagus

Based on a mysterious conversation with Agent M:

Spring Cleaning

Oatmeal.
Mushrooms.
Canned beets.
Macaroni.
Parmesan.
Tights.
Tape.
Post-its.
Jello.
Rice cakes.
Bread crumbs.

Wires.
Ethernet cable.
Dead mouse.
Ugly dishes.
Boxes.

Chocolate UFOs.
Dots.
How old is this stuff anyway?

IF: Wrinkles

In the last week I’ve been thinking about my sweet grandmother, and how odd it still seems not to have her around. It’s been several years. Sometimes, I’ll pass her exit on the Belt (I could still get there blindfolded) and think that she’s still there. Maybe, she’s just been on vacation all this time. Now, she’s waiting for me to come take her to the diner or to hang out and help cook. Matzah balls, gefilte fish, chicken soup. When it wasn’t Passover, sometimes we’d make kreplach. Everyone worked together, sometimes upstairs at my aunt’s apartment. It was like an assembly line of food.

She lived down the street from a firehouse. The windows in the apartment were always open and the sirens from the trucks seemed to echo through the streets constantly. When I was younger, I thought the whole town must be on fire, all day, everyday. It sure smelled like it.

Then, my grandfather told me that the smell came from the burning garbage in the incinerator.

Agent M Speaks:

I’ve been thinking about Death Valley too, but my memories are different:

I’ve only been there in summer months (wearing a hat and tons of sunblock) and I’ve come to think of Death Valley as one of the few places I didn’t feel cold. I must have been a cat in another life. I seek heat.

Last years trip was the first time we took Agent M there. We’d driven from Bakersfield, CA and Petman thought we’d “just pass through” on our way to Vegas. The air in our rental car couldn’t keep up with the excessive heat and neither could Agent M. We wound up stopping at a supermarket in Pahrump to try to cool her off and get some liquids back into her.

Strangely, I miss it. Maybe it’s just the wanderlust kicking in again.

Self-Portrait of Cooked Vampire

I went to a funeral yesterday. It was held graveside. It was a beautiful, very sunny day. I hadn’t thought to take a hat (as I usually do during summer months) or apply sunblock to any place other than my face. Oops. I wasn’t exactly thinking about my sensitivity to the sun at the moment anyway.

I was thinking about Dave, a really nice guy, who’d passed away very unexpectedly. His kids and grandkids gave beautiful eulogies. I just remember him as a cool dude and I know he will be missed by many people. He touched alot of lives.

The stuff I used on my face is actually a daily facial moisturizer with SPF 15. One of the best I’ve tried, and one I’d recommend if you are prone to sunburn.

Hat season has officially begun. Perhaps it’s also time to switch to the SPF 30 stuff.

Dream – April 22, 2008

Enlightenment – April 21, 2008

Okay. If you’re eating lunch, now is the time to either stop, or just read this later.

The other day, Petman cut his toenails.

This is not a topic that would normally deserve a post, but it was a very big deal. It seems that no one (including Petman himself) can remember when he last cut them.  It may have been YEARS.

I know, I know.  You’ve heard me say this before.  He really did say this and once I finished scraping myself up off the floor (I laughed so hard, I melted) I wrote it down in my sketchbook.  I write down these little petman-isms, mostly because a) I can’t believe that someone would actually say this (or that) and b) nobody else would believe it either.

Yes, he was being serious when he said it.

Aren’t your socks, er, feet more aerodynamic after a good pedicure?

Bluetooth Monkeys

I’m a Freak! I Actually MAKE Dinner!

First, let’s get this straight, I am not the domestic type. I am not a chef-person.

I started REALLY making dinner consistently (as opposed to making frozen things) when my daughter began to eat real food.  Before that, I made dinner, but it was inconsistent.  We ate out alot. I’d cop out and make eggs and a salad. Or ramen. I was conscious of what I ate, but was not as concerned about cost. I’m on a tighter budget now and that’s changed things.

Dollar for dollar, processed food is less expensive than the fresh stuff. Call me a fool, but I began reading the ingredients on all processed food I bought.  I Googled anything that sounded like a scary chemical additive.  Those things turned out to be, um, scary chemical additives.  Scary.  Chemicals.

Even though I make things as fresh and natural as I can, sometimes my petman will not eat them.  Real food just can’t compare to his favorite drive-thru.  I digress.

So, I was out with other moms, while our kids were playing.  Looking at my watch (that was my first error, I was wearing a watch), I noticed it was a bit after 5p.m.  I told them we were going to head home for dinner.  One of them commented that we eat awfully early.  I explained that we don’t eat until 6ish, but that I needed the time to PREPARE dinner and I described what I would make (nothing fancy, just sauteed chicken with asparagus and potatoes).  They looked at me like I had four heads.

Another friend explained later that nobody makes dinner from scratch.  It’s just not done.

I know better than to try to explain to folks about my line of business, but I though dinner was a safe subject. I was wrong. I am a total FREAK.