Saturday, October 11, 2014

To Whomever Stole the Pappy Van Winkle

Please get in touch. We want to talk. I mean drink. I mean talk.

We'll even help you carry those 65 cases. Must be heavy.

Sunday, October 05, 2014

Fun With Mim


Miriam knows to come bearing gifts. This ensures a warm welcome, even if the under-7 crowd still whispers to Dad at the table, "She's weird!"

In this case, Miriam sent Iain a balance game in which one must stack wooden animals. As you can see, the animals include the usual suspects (sheep, monkeys) and some unexpected choices (gila monsters, hedgehogs). You roll a die, then either extend, stack, or force someone else to stack animals.

Above, a very successful stack. Below, not so much. 


It was fun. This morning, when we took Miriam to the airport, Iain cried.

Saturday, October 04, 2014

Ermagerd


Wednesday, I received a generous gift. Pounds and pounds of jam, dried tomatoes, freshly baked bread (as in, still yeasty and warm), zucchini/chocolate brownies, pickles, and a big jar of fresh tomato sauce (chock full of veggies).

Tonight, inspired by this bounty, I made the lasagna you see above. Layers of sauteed beef and pork, caramelized onions, ricotta with fresh basil mixed in, locally-made fresh mozzarella, Caputo's lasagna noodles (whole sheets! You just thaw them and lay them in the pan.).

It was excellent. There's just nothing like homemade.

Friday, October 03, 2014

You Can't Have Her Back. Period.

Miriam's sister (in Albuquerque) texted to ask whether Miriam could come early, stay longer, and otherwise generally save the day. But Miriam is with me right now.

Am I willing to give her up? Not just early. Ever?

No! Above, me making a scary face to express my intention to kidnap Miriam and keep her here forever.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Hatting on the Scots

PJ O'Rourke makes me laugh. Me, and everyone else. This morning he's busy imagining a terrible future for an independent Scotland.

Too bad he can't spell Chanel.

Read it here.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Dog Nails


I finally went nuclear on Boris's nails. It's just not right, y'all. Normal dogs have cute little nails. People clip them with wee, inexpensive, Petco-available clippers. 

Not Boris. His nails kill Petco clippers. His nails laugh in the face of clippers meant for "large breeds." If large means a dachsund, ok. A lab/mastiff mix? No. 

I Googled "clippers for a large breed dog," "cutting nails large breed dog," and other things but found nothing useful. Then I decided to ask people who really know what they're talking about.


Mastiff owners. And, sure enough, on a forum devoted to grooming truly, truly large dogs, someone mentioned farriers' tools.

Ah. Now there's an idea I can run with. If it cuts a horse's hooves, it might work on our house-bound pony. Sure enough, Amazon sells nippers and farriers' rasps. These are tools. Serious, not kidding around, 10-14inch long tools. And since the nippers are rated to cut "large nails [made of metal?]" they do ok on Boris.

He tolerates it with enormous grace, probably because he's used to the usual round of cursing and failure. At least this time, when he extends his paw, something actually happens. He even allows me to run his clipped nails across the rasp (filing is so important in a manicure/pedicure, don't you agree?).

Hooray for the internet! Hooray for Mastiffs! Hooray for farriers!

Friday, September 05, 2014

First Grade


Desks! Homework! Lunch in the cafeteria! Gold stickers! And, one day, college.