Grape Did It

Now our Christmas tree sits in the corner all, IT'S NOT CHRISTMAS ANYMORE

We got home last night from our trip to Texas, a really great trip unless you count the number of times Copper conducted a Come-to-Jesus meeting with Bud's parent's cat. Usually during a time of day when everyone was feeling particularly calm and then it was all AROOO BARK BARK BARK, and I could have sworn the house was falling down, that that cat had somehow lodged its talons into Copper's delicate bits, that SATAN HIMSELF HAD WALTZED IN. Even Sadie joined in the madness, crying and whining hysterically, no vestige of her usual cool demeanor anywhere to be found.

I probably won't, but if you come to the  house and see a rust colored, dog shaped rug on the living room floor, DON'T ASK QUESTIONS, if you know what I mean.

But no, we ate, we ate some more, we opened more presents than I think I have ever received and that includes the time I was collecting doll house furniture, and then we ate. We also went to see Marley and Me and, even though I'd recently finished the book, I still cried towards the end, matching my sniffles with every other dog owner in the theater. No, really. Like a laugh track, only this emotion came from the bare naked knowledge that dogs don't live as long as humans and it's SUH-SUH, SOOO UNFAAAIR.

One of the presents I unwrapped Christmas day was a sewing machine and though it now looms over me along with my new camera as a piece of technology to figure out and you know what? I might just go back to bed rather than think about all that, I am excited to try my hand at napkins, curtains and JUST MAYBE a scarf. You know, the straight-edged only patterns. Which puts me in the mind of some green curtains I hand sewed for one of my college houses. Not only were the "hems" mismatched and uneven, but I had no idea you were supposed to double the fabric and so when stretched out to cover the entire window, the "curtains" appeared to be a see-through, cheap piece of fabric someone might as well have duct taped to the windows. I WAS PROUD.

Tonight for New Year's I'm pretty sure Bud and I are going to do a bunch of nothing, seeing as we drove five hundred miles yesterday and, frankly, New Year's Eve has never really held a lot of magic for me. Just ask our last family cat.

The dark side of vacation

The holidays cast an unusual spell on me of not wanting to do anything, anytime. ANYTHING. Except eat and complain that I'm tired and then eat some more. We stopped by WalMart tonight to pick up fabric - which is a subtle way of saying I got a sewing machine for Christmas! - and it was there I decided I needed, on top of Christmas enchilada leftovers, Christmas broccoli casserole leftovers, Christmas buttered rolls leftovers, CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM. WITH THE FUDGE CHUNKS. It was imperative.

Merry Christmas and a New Year filled with comments you'd like very much to take back the next morning

Tomorrow early we leave for Texas, a place where Copper can chase cows and Sadie can...bark indignantly as she always does. Some things don't change state to state.

We'll be spending Christmas with Bud's side of the family and though it always makes me a little sad not to be with my family, it's also cool to be around people who aren't likely to say, "HERE'S HOW YOU DO IT." Over, and over, and over again. Make no mistake, I'm usually the loudest of the crowd, instructing my family how they should live. But wait! I DO know best!

Ah yes, tomorrow will be a day marked by eight hours in a pickup truck filled with two humans, two dogs panting doggie breath wherever they believe its steamy goodness is needed, and lots of good will and cheer. DID YOU HEAR THE SARCASM THROUGH THE SCREEN?

I'm sure I will be posting some tweets, maybe even a little nugget straight from Texas here and there, but mostly I will be cooking, lounging and eating. Hope you will too!

Probably why we would not make good foreign policy makers

"What are you watching?"

"A, um, James Bond movie."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You wake up in the morning thinking, I think I'll watch an old James Bond movie? Not, hm, maybe there's news to catch up on?"

"No. It's always bad anyway. Why not watch a bad old movie?"

"I...guess."

"Plus, what else is on?"

"NEWS. ON, like, FIFTEEN STATIONS."

Alas, we turned it to the news and Amy Grant was singing some Christmas carol. FAIR ENOUGH.

Friday at Five: Whiskey Sour

Guys. I think I have done this one before. Have I? But the thing is, I do not have the time to go back through my archives and check and thus, I present you (possibly for a second time), Whiskey Sour.

Last weekend we went to a Christmas party and participated in an alcohol-themed gift exchange. We ended up with a 6 pack mini-bottle set of Fighting Cock bourbon. No, really, fighting. cock. Is one very opinionated Texan not enough? Now we add fighting cock to the mix. HUH. THAT RIGHT THERE SOUNDS LIKE A  FIGHT.

With this recipe though, we took the easy way and poured some whiskey into a tumbler, added ice and then sour mix. However, I have looked up the real! recipe! for you in case you want to show me up and be all AUTHENTIC and stuff:

Whiskey Sour
2 ounces blended whiskey (not sure what blended means)
Juice of 1/2 lemon (which reminds me of the petrified lime I found in the fridge the other day. Let's not talk about it.)
1/2 teaspoon powdered sugar
1 cherry
1/2 slice lemon

Shake first three ingredients, pour into glass and garnish with last two. Voila!

If you make the real kind, let me know how it turns out. I seem to remember an ill-fated drink that had powdered sugar in it from several months ago.

Just a short, stupid story

Yesterday all damn day I had an Elvis song in my head. It was...hang on, now I can't remember it. ALL DAY YESTERDAY PEOPLE, AND TODAY IT ELUDES ME. So, but then last night I went onto YouTube and began playing Elvis songs, one of which was Are You Lonesome Tonight and I don't mean to be vulgar here folks but all I'm going to say is if you're looking to get laid? Keep this one on repeat in the background. That song SLAYS a girl.

Anyway. The Elvis songs led to Frank Sinatra songs and before I knew it we had a full-on Vegas show going on right here in the living room, with Bud at the couch clapping and rattling his toddy. I'm telling you, that right there is the way to end a Wednesday.

Marching straight into married cliches

This morning has been filled with:

"WHAT?"

"I SAID blah, blah, BLAH!"

And then:

"I don't know WHY you had to YELL it, I just couldn't HEAR YOU from the other side of the apartment!"

"YOU got mad at ME just TWO MINUTES AGO when I couldn't hear YOU!"

Then a little of this:

"I'll do that, I know you're going to be late for work,"

"No, I got it."

"No really, let me."

"I SAID I GOT IT."

Or perhaps some of this:

"I said I'm not mad."

"Okay, sigh, fine."

"Now are you mad?"

"NO!"

Thus I've had no time to write.

Because he says it only 100 times better than I could

My brother wrote a letter to the White House - the president himself in fact - and as I write that I feel kind of silly, like a ten year old who's irate with the way her parents are treating her. If you make me eat ONE MORE VEGETABLE I'M GOING TO...WRITE THE PRESIDENT.

And yet, we have that right, the right to pen a letter to our president and not feel impossibly silly. The right to expect that he is not untouched by our opinions and just might read it. Either way, now is for sure not a time to be reluctant in communicating what you believe. I'm posting most of the letter below. I edited a little content to make it slightly less personal (why my brother had to indicate his preference in boxers or briefs I'LL NEVER KNOW) but you have the majority of an incredibly well written letter. I absolutely could not have articulated it better and it is what I have been so desperate to march up to Congress, grab a lawmaker, any lawmaker, shake vigorously by the shoulders, and say.

Subject: Please DO NOT bail out the Big Three

Dear Mr. President,

<PERSONAL REDACTED UNDERWEAR INFORMATION> ...however, your desire to "save" the Big Three by circumventing Congress to use TARP money to bail them out is a mistake.

The bankruptcy system is well designed to handle the problems these companies face. It is counter-intuitive, but a bankruptcy process offers a far greater chance of fixing these companies for long-term survival; a bailout will keep them alive until the next President comes, but not much longer. Problems that were unsolved when these companies enjoyed significant SUV/minivan profits will not be effectively addressed until and unless the companies face a credible threat of liquidation.

In addition to ensuring the long-term survival of these companies, an effective bankruptcy process without government funds will:

a) Prevent the spread of moral hazard. Too many people have learned they can gain from risk-taking while the government covers the downside. Making industrial companies "too big to fail" will only spread this behavior.

b) Save taxpayer money.

c) Help progress the economic turnaround. To get out of this recession, the US needs markets to clear. Worthless equity and debt needs to be wiped out; non-economic contracts need to be re-worked; in short, failures need to occur, so good money can pursue good risks. The longer the government tries to prevent the "band aid from being ripped off", the longer the recession will last.

Friday at Five: Tequila Sunrise

Bud kindly reminded me that we DID do a Friday at Five drink for last week, we just did it early so why the hell did I write FAILURE for the drink? It was even one HE'D thought of, so how dare I forget. 

And then I remembered that yeah, that's right, I went to the local Fresh Market (sort of a more pretentious, smaller Whole Foods. They're motto is all, "look we never said we are trying to save the world. We just offer our food in prettier packages. And our displays? Are gorgeous.") and bought over- priced fresh squeezed orange juice to go with tequila and grenadine we had at home. Why did we have tequila at the house? CAN'T REMEMBER. MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH ALL OF THE TEQUILA DRINKING.

I'm not entirely sure of the formal recipe but I do know it's those three ingredients: tequila, grenadine and orange juice (HENCE THE SUNRISE PART) and I also know the grenadine should be poured into the drink slowly, and down the side of the inside of the glass, in order for it to reach the bottom before mixing with the orange juice. It really is a lovely drink.

I think it would be perfect for a Sunday brunch, maybe sitting on a sunlit table surrounded by orange danishes. As long as you're down with drinking ON THE LORD'S DAY.

My dear, dear husband

You remember the stealing of the pine boughs story? Well, Bud bought a Christmas tree for his office yesterday and thought to keep the branches from IT so I could finally create the wreath I wanted. Exciting times around this house. Anyway, he pulled the wad of branches out of his truck last night and set them upstairs outside of our front door. I came home from the grocery store and was met by this alarming in its urgency, but very sweet sign:

BECAUSE OTHERWISE YOU WILL PAY.