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photo friday: getaway

17 Mar

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A couple weekends ago three friends, Baby McSwedolish, and I trekked up to northern Michigan* for a writing weekend. It was entirely uncertain how much actual writing would get done, considering we had an adorable baby to distract us, but surprisingly we were all quite successful in our endeavors.

It didn’t hurt that we were in an absurdly picturesque setting, with no television and spotty Internets. This is the view out the back/kitchen windows, and if that’s not enough to make you want to snuggle up with your laptop and give your mind the space it needs to think and create, then I don’t know what is.

Plus, we saw an otter playing on the frozen lake.

An otter!

My winter is complete.

 

*J’adore northern Michigan!**

**People don’t use the phrase “j’adore” nearly enough.

photo friday: because

3 Mar

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I took this picture because it was warm in February and the colors were pretty.

I took this picture because I love a good sunset in the city.

I took this picture because I thought it looked neat, framed in my side mirror.

I took this picture because I was stopped in traffic.

I took this picture because I liked it.

photo friday: no YOU are

10 Feb

The other morning I was at the gym, and tossed my stuff into a locker without a second thought. I finished my workout and came back into the locker room to retrieve my stuff, only to see something I’d missed earlier.

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Thanks, Gym Locker. You are, too.

photo friday: melting

3 Feb
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Was keeping watch. Got tired. 

I was worried that when we brought Baby McSwedolish home the dog wouldn’t like him.

I needn’t have worried.

She loves him very much, and shows said love by thoroughly cleaning his face and hands and nose holes, and, when he’s kicked off his socks, his toes, though there is no denying that she also is terribly sad that she is no longer the baby.

But still.

She knows that she must protect Baby McSwedolish no matter what.

Or at least for as long as she can keep her eyes open.

 

photo friday: sleeping beauty

27 Jan
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Jerk. 

We have been blessed: Baby McSwedolish is an excellent nighttime sleeper. He is not so fantastic at taking naps during the day times, unless he is in his crate car seat,* toodling around with us on errands and outings.

But if I had to choose, I will take his proficiency at nighttime sleeping over napping any day, because 1) I’m not terribly good at napping myself, so I get his inability to do so, and more important, 2) I’m not sure he can nap, because the amount of time the beasts in this house spend sleeping at any given time of the day or night is so great that it probably absorbs all of the nap power from the other living beings residing here, thus rendering us all un-napable.

In other words, it is the cats’ and dog’s faults that Baby McSwedolish does not sleep well during the day. Mostly, of course, the cats’. Because everything is always their fault. Forever and ever, Amen.

*Stop calling it a crate. He’s not a puppy, girl. He’s a baby. A baby.

photo friday: i scream, you scream, we all scream because i forgot the food coloring!

20 Jan
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Don’t worry, you guys. Aunt DeeDee brought a red velvet bundt, so we did get our food coloring fix. Dog nose not included. 

One of my New Year’s Goals for this year—besides creating world peace, finding sustainable alternative fuel solutions, and saving the spotted horned-tooth owl—is to make one new ice cream flavor per month.* January’s flavor was red velvet with a cream cheese swirl, which I served up last week when Baby McSwedolish’s Aunts Mimi and DeeDee came over for dinner.

Dinner was a smashing success, of course (when is it not? Let’s just call a spade a spade), as was my contribution to dessert, le red velvet ice cream. (Aunt DeeDee rightly saw fit to inundate us with a half dozen mini bundt cakes, which were amazing, and which I may or may not have polished off for breakfast over the course of the following three mornings.) (No judging.) (I said stop judging! It’s really no different than eating a donut!)

Because I am amazing with ice cream time management, I made the base for the ice cream the night before, and as I was pulling together the ingredients came to the stunning realization that I didn’t actually have the red to make said velvet ice cream…red.

I could have batted my eyes and asked Swede to run to Mariano’s to pick up a bottle of red food coloring. I could have made blue or yellow or green velvet ice cream, because those were food colorings that I do have on hand. But blue velvet ice cream sounds like something I should make when there is some sort of Elvis-associated holiday looming, yellow velvet ice cream doesn’t sound appetizing at all, and green velvet, well, huh. That actually could be interesting. Will have to give it a go another time.

Anyway, my point is that red velvet ice cream with a cream cheese swirl tastes just the same and just as good without the red food coloring. It tastes like lightly chocolate-d ice cream with a cream cheese swirl, which is exactly what it is. If ever you were wondering about where red velvet got it’s flavor, it’s not from the coloring. Why the coloring was ever added in, I don’t know, I’m not a food historian.

I’m just a food eat-orian.

*I welcome suggestions on what to make in the coming months.

 

photo friday: room for improvement, i guess.

13 Jan
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The dog doesn’t seem to mind the mess, even if I do.

This is my side of our bedroom. I thought the light was really lovely the other day, and tried to capture it with my camera. It kind of worked. Mostly it just captured my mess, so, well, here you go. You get a photo of the bedroom in its often normal state—baby things and clothes scattered everywhere, books in mild disarray on the windowsill. And of course, the dog.

Yes, the bed is made, and yes, that’s part of the room’s normal state. A made bed is sometimes the only thing that manages to get done in a day. (And more often than not done by my Swede.)

I don’t know who these people are who have tidy, magazine-perfect homes. I’m sure they exist, though possibly only on the Internet, or at least some version of them exists, much like fiction characters kind of exist in real life due to the resemblance they bear to the author’s Uncle Frank or hairstylist or second grade teacher.

Anyway, I’m not one of those people, and I’m not even a version of one of those people. In my head I want to be one of those people, but in reality it doesn’t happen. It just doesn’t. And I’m not going to follow up that declaration with some bullshit about embracing and learning to Love the mess! Embrace the mess! You are the mess! And you are okay!

Yeah, I know I’m okay. My mess and I are just fine, thanks. We don’t like each other, and we glower at each other regularly, and that’s just how our relationship is. Like much in life, it is not perfect.

Maybe someday I will get my shit together, or at least put away, but today is not that day.