There are many reasons I am among the throngs who admire Dooce. One of the reasons I read her site regularly is I love her fashion posts. I don’t often agree with her tastes, but I like the way she shares what she likes, what she’s wearing, etc. You know who else does a great job of this? Kara. Plus I won a fabulous dress on her blog this week. Why yes, that is the most fabulous prize I’ve ever won!
And let’s be honest — y’all loved the shoes. So, what do you think about these earrings?
Fun + shiny.
I like the idea of doing a daily photo for Flickr to encourage myself to shake up what I wear. (I think this would also encourage less shopping.) While I’ve purchased a tiny tripod for this new blog experiment, I have yet to conquer autofocus with the timer.
Perhaps better luck tomorrow.
- Posted in
- Daily Sass
I have been photographing pieces of furniture I’m giving away. Most of my furniture is stuff that friends have passed along, items I’ve found at garage sales, etc. It’s value is certainly not worth moving 770 miles. (Especially after signing the moving estimate yesterday. Yet another Colorado “YAY! Ouch.” moment.)
I asked my friends to send the photos to anyone they may know who wanted these items yet again. There is no point in selling them if someone we know can use them. A colleague of one of my childhood friends sent me an email this morning. She and her boyfriend are building a new home together. They are young and would love my kitchen table and chairs.
This little kitchen table and chairs that was given to me 7 years ago by a friend came with a couple cigarette burns and one shaky leg. The chairs have since been tightened and repaired a handful of times. When I read the email and thought about this table entering a new home, I got a little teary. (The new norm.) My table! The table where I held countless community dinners, sewed Christmas gifts and birthday purses and onesies for seven years, where I worked on my first novel.
If good karma carries forward in objects, I know this furniture is blessed. I cannot count the number of happy post-meal sighs, laughs and toasts I’ve shared. I can only hope the next owners are as fortunate to have so many great memories. (The new Colorado table will be farm style, ideally with a couple benches too. Still great for community dinners, sewing and the such. And still always ready for friends to come over to break bread.)
- Posted in
- Happy Hippie, Journal
Do you have Netflix streaming? If so, can I bother you to watch this movie soon? I watched it this weekend after Matt hassled me for weeks. It is heartbreaking. For a thousand reasons, it makes me so very angry and disgusted with world politics, racism, power and the state of African leadership. It is a must see film for those who think about international issues and want the world to be a more peaceful place.
I don’t believe in injustice. In any form. Anywhere. And I’m unwilling to live in a world where it is so blindly accepted.
Please keep in mind, I am not unbiased. I live with a man whose family was evicted from their land in Zimbabwe, much like the family in the film. Matt’s family are just one of thousands who overnight lost all of their possessions simply because of the color of their skin. Zimbabwe has long been led by a genocidal maniac named Robert Mugabe who will stop at nothing to eradicate European blood from “his land.”
At first glance, this seems like a simple black vs. white issue. It isn’t. It is about justice. It is about the betterment of Zimbabwe. It’s about the millions who are starving in the breadbasket of Africa because the white farmers are living on the periphery (like Malawi), working other land where they are temporarily welcome. The farms they once ran, which fed Zim and many countries in the region, remain in tattered, burned pyres. Imagine the American midwest being a vast wasteland and all the farmers who had generations of experience coaxing the land to feed our giant nation living in Canada. Because they were green. And we no longer welcomed Green people.
I’m oversimplifying to make a point, but it isn’t far off.
Robert Mugabe prides himself in being the next Hitler. He is killing his own, ruining the country and we are doing nothing. In fact, we’ve done nothing for more than two decades.
Please watch the film. There are so many thoughtful, creative, dedicated folk who read this site. Surely we can come up with some way to bring more attention to the generation of misfits (Matt’s term) — those children of Zimbabweans who have no citizenship anywhere in the world, like the man living in my guest room.
In the meantime, I’m going to beg Matt to let me publish an essay I wrote about his family’s experience fleeing Zimbabwe. It is important to share. As the typical American, I had no idea what hardship and heartbreak this group of people have survived.
“If good men do nothing, evil will prevail.” — from the opening scene
- Posted in
- Africa, Journal, Politico
Do these look like the heels of a woman who:
1. Preaches simplicity and has given away half of her belongings in the last six months?
2. Should not be acquiring new things, if for no other reason she is just about 7 feet tall in these things?
3. Had shock waves rammed into her foot Friday morning, fully embarrassing herself by crying and acting like a child in pain?
3a. Should be wearing tennis shoes with the ever-so-sexy orthotics?
4. Who rode her bike 10-plus miles* to the mall to buy them, after seeing them the day before — having regretted putting them back?
Or do these simply look like the heels of a woman who is complicated, contradictory and loves a great pair of shoes?
* Dear Drivers of the Greater Phoenix Area: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD — WATCH FOR CYCLISTS. The very little I cycling I do still terrifies me to no end by the complete and total disregard for cyclists on the roads. In three hours of riding, I was nearly hit 4 times. And by “nearly hit” I mean either I or the driver had to slam on brakes to prevent contact.
In the middle of the day.
When I was in the right.
PAY ATTENTION TO THE PEOPLE ON BICYCLES PEOPLE.
- Posted in
- Journal, Style
Cody came to town this weekend, which meant a visit to Tucson to see our grandparents.
(Obviously, he spent a lot of time on his hair prior to this road trip and dinner. Also obvious, my grandparents couldn’t have cared less.)
Whenever we are in Tucson, we have to swing through his favorite pizza spot — No Anchovies. He was sad he no longer had the “buy 1, get 1” coupon books from his UofA days, but he still happily wolfed down several slices.
Any time I can get with my brother, I’ll take. I adore him. And I also often want to shake him. So goes the sibling relationship.
- Posted in
- Arizona, Journal
I hosted a couple friends and their owners last night for dinner on the patio. We enjoyed a new recipe — cochinita tacos — from a recipe I got out of a waiter at Gallo Blanco. (Pork shoulder, can of Coke, can of Negro Modelo, onion, garlic, any other veggies you want — Dutch oven for 3 hours at 300.) I also did my best impression of a radish and honey appetizer I had at FNB the other day that was a delightful mix of flavors. And greens from the farmer’s market.
There is something rather awesome about coming home to a pot of wonder bubbling on the stove (I prepped, Matt put it in the oven), a fridge full of locally grown vegetables and a patio begging for some attention. Throw in a handful of people I consider family, a sky full of stars and two of the sweetest dogs on earth at our feet? Simply perfect.
I’m making the same pot of pork for Adam’s birthday tomorrow. I’ll modify the recipe with a can of diced pineapple too. Shredded on tortillas with a bit of avocado? Divine.
- Posted in
- Happy Hippie, Homebody, Journal, June Cleaver, Kitchen Talk
I have a couple friends who stop by here solely to see what I’ve been reading. We swap email regularly — what’s on your nightstand? What have you heard is good? What is your book club’s selection this month? Can you believe they are releasing this?
When a new coworker and friend recently put “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay” in my hands and declared it “his favorite book of all time,” I took note. This friend recently returned from 27 months as a Peace Corps volunteer in Kazakhstan, where he said his two significant pastimes — other than surviving the typical below freezing weather and doubling up on wool socks — were drinking and reading. He was averaging 2000 pages a week. This, after finishing at the top of his class as an English major at Boston College. When someone with that kind of hunger for literature hands you his favorite book and instructs you to immediately make time for it, you do.
And oh, if he wasn’t right.
Michael Chabon has both inspired and ruined me with this book. On one hand, it is so incredibly well written, entertaining, educational without being pedantic. He makes me want to drop everything else I’m doing in my life and study words, writing and language. I want to write like this more than anything else. It’s truly brilliant.
On the other hand, the next book I picked up — which isn’t a bad read — is so boring! It doesn’t have the same verve. I have this intense love of for Garcia Marquez, Courtenay and Kingsolver too. They are just so very good, everything else is a bit dull by comparison.
En sum, Kavalier and Clay are cousins who create a series of comic books in New York City. En largess, it is an epic 600-page story about war, faith, revenge, art, survival, love, loyalty and family.
One of my very favorite passages:
“At the same time, as he watched the reckless exercise of Joe’s long, cavalier frame, the display of strength for its own sake and for the love of display, the stirring of passion was inevitably shadowed, or fed, or entwined by the memory of his father. We have the idea that our hearts, once broken, scar over with an indestructible tissue that prevents their ever breaking again in quite the same place; but as Sammy watched Joe, he felt the heartbreak of that day in 1935 when the Mighty Molecule had gone away for good.”
Five out of five bananas, absoloodle.
- Posted in
- 2011 Books, Arizona, Media
I think giving a loaf of bread as a CAOK gift might be the most appropriate. Breaking of bread. Sharing of loaves. Feeding friends.
Plus, homemade bread makes nearly everyone smile.
This loaf when to a friend who is interviewing today for a giant job in New York that would make him and his wife very happy. Send much love to the pair and all my fingers and toes are crossed!
Apricot nut bread — aka: “Good luck on the interview Matt!” bread.
What is your favorite bread recipe?
P.S. I might have nibbled a little corner out of the loaf. I made the recipe up! I wanted to make sure I wasn’t poisoning anyone… Who can resist bread hot out of the oven?! Not me, even with the best of intentions.
- Posted in
- CAOK, Domestic Art
Brunch is one of my favorite ways to catch up with friends on the weekend. Time on the patio, dogs at our feet, plates of eggs, pancakes, fruit, potatoes or even oatmeal — fantastic. The ability to lounge in the mild sun with great conversation and time to relax — the best.
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Juliann and I jumped at a recent Groupon to take a trapeze class in the east Valley. Fresh off the airplane, I met Julez for the class, more than a bit nervous. What if I got up there and couldn’t make the jump? After seeing Min’s video from the same class, I was pretty sure I’d set myself up for yet another situation of “what have I gotten myself into here…”
What I got myself into was more fun than I’d had in a very long time. It was screaming, exhilarating, heart-pumping, adrenaline fueled FUN. I jumped, I flew, I swung and then I giggled like a little kid watching Juliann doing the same:
Rinse and repeat. We did this for two hours until we were so exhausted, we hurt. It is a remarkably good workout, in part because your heart is pumping so fast. I am bruised from head to toe from landing on the nets and my feet are sore from climbing the little ladder. All said and done, I’d do it again right now if I had the chance.
This was called “the catch.” And while I wasn’t able to swing around and grab my own swing again mid-air — I was really happy to have caught the other trapeze guy.
While watching others take their turn, an elderly man sitting next to me who had brought his granddaughter, received a call on his cell phone that was the icing on the cake.
Him: “You’ll never guess where I am?” (in a slow, loud, elderly drawl)
Caller: wahahwahwahwahwaha (Charlie Brown’s teacher’s voice)
Him: “I’m at the trapeze school with Jasmine. You know. TRAPEZE. T-R-A-P-E-E-G!”
And of course my sidekick in this latest crazy adventure and I finished the morning with a much deserved brunch over continued giggles and slaps on the back for our new-found love of yet another bizarre sport.
Try Trapeeg, friends. You’ll love it. I couldn’t have scheduled a better way to rebound after a long couple of days of work and travel aggravation.
- Posted in
- Arizona, Journal