Oct 23, 2010 | This Life
I’m a girl with an oral hygiene addiction.
Yesterday was not a good day. In fact, I think I hit an all time low, if we’re measuring by the amount tears shed on any given day. I’d been dreading the visit to the dentist for ages—ever since I cracked two fillings and my jaw began to ache. I could tell from just looking at the one tooth a root canal was in my future. What I didn’t expect was to have a mouth full of cavities… again.
You have to know, I’m a girl with an oral hygiene addiction. Iz and I joke that there are more dental care products in the bathroom than there are hair care products, and you know how I feel about hair goop! I’m a sucker for the next best dental floss, tooth-paste, mouth rinse… and that doesn’t take into account all the homeopathic aids I’ve bought over the years.
I’d tell you it’s vanity—and it is, if you consider vanity to be, “I don’t want to lose all my teeth.” This is not an irrational fear on my part, since both of my parents faced just that before they were 30. They passed on those genes and you can see it in my paper thin enamel. But I’ll have you know, that with exception to a cavity in a baby-tooth at the age of 5 I didn’t have another filling until I was 30! And that’s because I’ve been so obsessive. I rinse, brush, or floss after every meal and then sometimes just because.
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Oct 15, 2010 | This Life
You’re getting a product shot of my newest lucky find because when I tried to get the boy to do a goofy pose with it,  he flat-out refused. Apparently, “there are limits”.  Really? Limits? Since when? You can bet I’m going to quote  that back to him when bedtime arrives tonight!
But back to this form. It’s from a downtown store that is going out of business. I’m figuring from its original state that it’s vintage. I spent most of the week patching holes, giving it a new paint job, and trying to shake the skeevy sensation that came along with finding this thing. It’s a story best left off the blog, but I think I can safely say there are just some encounters that make your skin crawl. However, the new paint seems to have done the job—and I’m thrilled to have it. In truth, I don’t see Mireio expanding to a full jewelry line. That being said, I suspect people do want to see how something hangs; so finding this vintage form locally is a lucky find. And it’s making the product shot part of my life much easier.
Not that I can get the kid to pose with it. Jewelry is more compliant. (more…)
Oct 12, 2010 | From the Kitchen, This Life
Because apparently, he loves his mother’s Apple Pie.
Recently I overheard IZ on the phone with his mother, ” I love two kinds of apple pie. Wende’s, of course, Â and yours.” Â This is news to me! Because whenever I bake apple pie the boy lies through his teeth and says, “This is the best apple pie! I wouldn’t eat anything but your apple pie.”
Let’s get things straight here, my apple is nothing special. In fact, I won’t serve it to friends. I draw the limit at tormenting family. IZ just has fond memories because I baked apple pie for him for months when we were first married. I was attempting to perfect my pie crust skills, so I baked an apple pie each week. I’m not partial to apple pie, (that’s southern for “I abhor it!”) so I could safely bake it and not also eat it. He gained 20 lbs. Love, I tell you, it makes you fat and happy.
However, I had no clue he had a soft spot for his mother’s pie. He never said. Not that I would have listened, I don’t think. In fact, I’m pretty sure I would have told him, “Are you married to your mother? NO. Is your mother here baking you pie? No. You will eat MY pie because I baked it, buster.” Ok, I wouldn’t have said it, but I would have shot him a look that summed up my position. My house, my pie.
These days, I’m old, er, and wise, er, and it’s probably time to stop tormenting the man with my apple pie. I stepped up and got the recipe from my mother-in-law. But, being resistant (I’m southern) and stubborn (southern) and wiley (southern) I wasn’t about to give in easily. Which is why I opened up our coffee time this morning with my big move.
Me: “I have a proposition for you. I want to bribe you.”
IZ: “With what?”
Me: “With pie. If you’ll make me a pdf recipe template for Evidently, I’ll bake you pie. I’ll bake you your mother’s apple pie.”
IZ: “Sounds fair to me.”
So today, he made a template and now you can clicky, clicky for a printable recipe card! And me, I baked pie. Apple pie. His mother’s pie. And you didn’t hear it from me, but it’s pretty good pie.
Click here for a printable recipe card :Â Kellie’s Brown Bag Apple Pie
Oct 4, 2010 | This Life
The man couldn’t resist filching an apple from an abandoned heirloom tree out in the boondocks of Washington. I guess it’s really wrong that I found his thievery kinda sexy, right?
Sep 28, 2010 | This Life
For once, I actually bought pumpkins before I had to wade knee deep in mush to find a good one.
Sep 24, 2010 | This Life
Santa Barbara Court House and Los Padres in the background.
Happy Friday! I hope you all have an amazing weekend. I’m leaving you with a photo of what I consider “home”. It’s been awhile since I’ve been back, but it doesn’t take much to transport me there in spirit! Like the realization that traditionally we’d be packing our bags this week and heading south with the sun. However, our annual trek home has been put on hold for yet another year. Blame the economy. I do. Instead, I’ll be living on memories and making the most of it— deep cleaning my house, prepping for dinner guests, and maybe even dining al fresco on the porch.
See you on Monday!
