What's for brinner?

A few weeks ago Leigh's awesome cousin Tara and her crazy awesome kids came to visit, and Leigh's parents hosted all of us lunatics at their house for the weekend. By hosted I mean they made us gourmet meals and filled us up with wines that were so good they raised my IQ by like 30 points.

The first night was salmon a la the best restaurant in New Orleans. I think it's called Commanders. It should be called Fritz's Bitch because I have no doubt Leigh's dad could make the Commander cry. Because look at this divine platter of flavor explosion.

Saturday we woke up to coffee and orange juice and sunshine on the deck and oh-my-god-I-didn't-know-you-were-supposed-to-marinate French toast. With strawberries. And bananas. And blueberries. And cinnamon. And soysage.

Dinner that night was more divinity. Leigh made us mahi mahi with red peppers and there was bread and then I discovered the joy of English peas. I deserve to be smacked for going 32 years without having eaten English peas. English peas are some of the best things Mother Nature ever gave us. Although I'm still not sure where to find English peas. SOMEONE FIND ME SOME ENGLISH PEAS.

The final morning of Weekend of Regressing to Adolescence, Fritz was heading off to meet friends for lunch, so Leigh's mom took her place at the helm of the hooded stove. Eggs and smoked salmon and bagels and cream cheese and that's it, I'm moving in. When I start to get on their nerves, I'll go to my parents' house for chocolate cake and pancakes and guacamole and TV and regress there for a bit.

It's been weeks since I ate that good, so when Mack texted me about having brinner tonight, I pretty much squealed. Not just because I love brinner but also because I wanted to try to make Fritz Toast. I googled "best French toast ever" and got to work. 

I got strawberries and blackberries and maple syrup and did the marinating trick. Then I sprinkled on the sprinklies and I skilleted each piece in butter before finishing them in the over. And yeah, it turned out pretty good. Not quite Fritz, but still pretty awesome. I also decided to make home fries for the first time ever and those... yeah, I made those my bitch. Hooray for brinner. And regressing.

Ruble's Last Rodeo

A few weeks ago, Ruble rounded up a bunch of us girls to go to Nashville and have a single life sendoff. Because I am a little addicted to party planning, I sort of demanded she let me plan it... and she agreed only after I swore to her that she wouldn't have to play any stupid games or wear anything stupid.

Lucky for me, she didn't think a cowgirl hat was stupid. And that's how we got started with Ruble's Last Rodeo.

Most of the inspiration came from cowgirl pinup paintings by Gil Elvgren.

As for the actual bachelorette weekend, mostly I remember that Jack Daniels was there, and that he was very demanding of my attention. And that I was an aggressive advocate of moustaches. And that I had a blast celebrating with one of the best friends a person can have.

Sprung.

Just another pinch-me-is-this-my-life moment

I discovered a singer songwriter named Dayna Kurtz through Charles when he and Shan put a song of hers on their wedding CD. I still don't know the name of it, only that it's #3 and that when it's on I must sing it as loud as I can. I love her blend of jazzy rockabilly and power passion ballads. Not only is the music an emotional shag, but the lyrics... they are pure wordistry, built to splay open the human experience and make it raw and tender and awfully delicious.

Dude, I should write for SPIN.

When I moved to LA, I signed up for her mailing list because I just knew that she'd stop by the City of Angels on her next tour. Everybody does. But she didn't. She went to Amsterdam, Austin, Buffalo... never even looked out west. I figured if I didn't get to see her in LA I was never going to see her.

So imagine my surprise when I get a newsletter just before Valentine's Day that includes shows in Memphis and Nashville. And then imagine my surprise when at the bottom of the show calendar there's a little note about a house concert in Prospect, Ky.

Total disbelief ensued, but I replied to the email and asked (okay, begged) for details.

It was true. Dayna Kurtz was playing at a house concert in Louisville, the tickets were $15 (including wine, beer, Bourbon, homemade paella, a potato frittata, and red velvet cupcakes), and I was freaking going.

I dragged sleepy pregnant Shannon out with me, and together we went to some strangers' house to listen to one of the singers who's made me fall in love, given me strength I didn't think I had, and reminded me how to daydream. She sat less than 10 feet away and could have been even closer if I hadn't been so starstruck.

Guess Who's Having a BABY!!!!

It's not me. There's no way my baby would ever have such scrawny little legs in utero. I would give birth to a hobbit.

So that's your hint... chicken legs. Now guess!

First I went to Natural Bridge. Then I dreamed it was blindingly foggy and I had to walk across that plank of death.

For St. Patrick's Day, we decided to go to the Gorge and do a little hiking, maybe meet up with our friends Lena and Dustin. Lena and Dustin are rock climbers, probably world famous ones but because they are in Kentucky, you'd never know it. Isn't that weird how people can be heroes elsewhere and completely ignored in Kentucky? I'm looking at you, Sam Shepard.

Anyway, since it was Spring Break, we got up about 1, finally got to the Gorge around 2, then Mack had to eat tofu pizza at a place called Miguel's, and finally at about 3 we started the hike to Natural Bridge. Mack had never been there before and it'd been almost a decade since my last visit, so it was awesome. Maybe the degree of awesome has something to do with how drunk on sunshine I was, but for now, I'm giving all the credit to Kentucky. You hear that Kentucky? I have given you one point for your combination of tofu pizza, beautiful scenery, and sunshine. Relish in it.

The type of proud a 1-mile hike will get you.

Still have no idea how this was formed? Anyone?

Nature's Size Restrictions

I did not have to turn sideways to fit through this thing. That was nice. Even though I look like a fat ass in this picture.

Fearless. Because he does not have a built-in toochie alert system.

Crack kills. So do ledges.

Taking it in like a leisurely Daniel Boone.

This was nothing after those bridges in Ghana.

After the hike, we found some spotty cell phone reception and caught up with Dustin and Lena, who'd been in the throes of a plumbing disaster all day. We went with them for a "soda pop" and ended up at "a gigantic rock wall on the side of the road that I had no clue existed even though we'd driven past it 3 times." It's called Road Side. It is beautiful.

They wanted to scramble in a climb before the sun went down, so we craned our necks and watched these spider monkeys go where no man was meant to go. Then I took a turn.

This is half of the madness of Road Side.

About a million waterfalls above and below us.

And they're off.

And off some more, all the way to the top!

Dustin makes it look harder than Lena but easier than it is.

My turn! Yeah, there aren't any ropes. Yeah, I'm all of 2 feet off the ground.

Mack dreaming big.

I'm already bored on Spring Break and it's only Tuesday.

Today I googled myself. Here are the results:

Actress best known for her role in Hook. As an adult, she is still more widely known for her childhood role in Hook than I am for anything. Interestingly, I, too, was a child actress, playing the role of Mom Whose Face Was Scraped to Shreds from a Failed Bike Jump off the Porch in the thriller called The Case of the Gone Gobbler.

Photographer in Toronto who has "been able to take my passion for photography and fuse it with my love of design." This is not me, but I also do that, only instead of half dressed, red-lipped waifs, I take photos of fat babies, pregnant ladies, and optimistic brides. 

Author of romantic novels and screenplays, many of which answer such questions as "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to travel back in time? To howl at the moon? To kiss a girl?" Again, this is not me. SHUT UP LEIGH. AND SHANNON.

Thanks to my husband, I don't have to get raped by mechanics anymore.

While it's not exactly the comeback I wanted (one featuring sand and coconut scented lotion and a cooler of Corona), it was nice to see my beach towel making an outside appearance yesterday while Mack changed the brake pads.

And in case you missed that, Mack changed the brake pads. In our driveway. Without power tools. And it only cost us $31.78 plus $12 for a weird cube piston tool.

Like my beach towel, Mack's handiness rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it makes being married totally worth it.

Mmmmmmm. Vegannnnn.

I get a hankering for bakering sometimes, and when I do, it usually involves cupcakes. Specifically VEGAN CUPCAKES THAT ARE ABOUT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD.

My vegan cupcakes seldom turn out the way I intend. I mean, they turn out delicious, but there's always some *performance issue.

There's always been some problem with "falling," a crisis easily cloaked with a batch of homemade vegan buttercream icing and glamorous toppings. This time, the *performance issue involved a stubborn refusal to separate from the cupcake liner. (In defense of the recipe, I was out of cooking spray and had to finagle some impromptu "greasing techniques" that are not cookbook sanctioned.)

Yes, I made two batches to make sure the "falling" wasn't my fault. Yes, that type of determination required a Dos Equis. Yes, we ate paper. Yes, they were so delicious that we ate them, offered them to friends, and laughed on the inside as our friends also succumbed to eating paper in order to get at the deliciousness of VEGAN CUPCAKES THAT ARE ABOUT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD.

Here's where we go to worship vegan. You're invited. Yes, there is vegan mac and cheese, and it will probably save your life, so there. 

Here's how you can attempt to get your friends to eat paper so you can laugh at them. All in good health.

Lilly says, "I LOVE MY VEGAN-ISH
UNCLE. AND HIS HAIRY FACE."

VEGAN CARROT CAKE CUPCAKES

2/3 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
2/3 cup sugar (you can also use agave nectar)
1/3 cup vegetable oil (use 1/4 cup if you use agave nectar)
1/3 cup soy yogurt (plain or vanilla)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup finely grated carrots
1/4 cup chopped walnuts for the cupcakes, 1/3 c. for sprinkling on top after icing
1/4 cup raisins


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line muffin tin with 12 cupcake liners. Spray the shit out of them so your cupcake won't stick.

2. In a medium mixing bowl, mix together sugar, vegetable oil, yogurt, and vanilla. Sift in the dry ingredients (flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and spices), and mix until smooth. Fold in carrots, walnuts and raisins.

3. Fill the liners 2/3 full. Bake for 26-28 minutes, until a toothpick inserted through the center of one comes out clean. Try not to let anything in your house move or else they may "fall." Whisper nice things to them. But not too loudly.

4. Once fully cooled, top generously with cream cheese frosting. And not that poison you buy at the store. I am doing a trial run of some cupcakes for an upcoming soiree, and today I looked at that store icing crap. Holy Ba-Jesus... 2g trans fats per serving!!! Vegan icing is uber easy and not going to kill you. Here's a recipe for Vegan Cream Cheese Icing that's great with these cupcakes.

VEGAN CREAM CHEESE ICING
1/4 c. non-hydrogenated margarine, softened (I use Smart Balance)
1/4 c. vegan cream cheese, softened (I use Tofutti)
2 c. confectioners' sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Cream together margarine and cream cheese until just combined. Use a handheld mixer to whip while adding the confectioners' sugar in 1/2 c. batches. Mix until smooth and creamy, then mix in the vanilla. Keep tightly covered and refrigerated until ready to use. No, it's not okay for your spouse to catch you eating it with your fingers just because it's not full of trans fats. NOTED.

Study Day

Mack and I both have tests this week, which means that the Weekend of Warmth & Delight had to be dedicated to cerebral pursuits.

So we went to the cemetery to study. It's kind of like the library in that everyone is quiet. But there's also sunshine. And trees. And animals. And air. And lots of good distractions that are way more fun than doing the dishes.

Hopefully our sneaky play big, intense study day pays off.

I'd totally risk Nintendo Thumb for this.

Male Man

I have subscribed to a ton of beauty magazines to become more in-the-know about "prestige" fashion.

Mack gets the mail because it is on the outside and I don't like acknowledging there is outside when that cold white stuff is everywhere. Yesterday he brought in the new Glamour with the mail.

"The phone bill came, and Kim Kardashian wants to show me her boobs." Talk about delivery.

Boy Vs. Girl

That is him then.

This is her now.

She's a holds the nursing pose a little bit longer with her mouth and there's a little bit of difference in their noses and lips, but there is no question these two come from the same place. 

A place called Gorgeoustowncheekaliciousville.

A Baby Story

Monday morning I woke up on the special air mattress-tempur pedic-luxury-bed (one of my dad's specialties, along with pancakes) to a very pregnant Leiah prancing around.

Keep in mind, this same woman has a chair in front of her bathroom mirror so she can sit down to brush her teeth and a stool in front of the pantry so she can take a break while she looks for the macaroni and cheese. That is how pregnant she is.

One week overdue, Leiah had started leaking (just like Venus used to do!!) late Sunday night, but nothing like the gush we were expecting. Monday morning though, there was some gushing... not like TV caliber but definitely real life caliber.

She had a weekly checkup scheduled at 12:50 and wasn't in any pain, so we ate breakfast, got ready, and then went to the appointment. The doctor told us to go to the hospital.

Which we did after we stopped by Jimmy John's to eat lunch, ran by the house to get Leiah's things, dropped Ben off with his Dude, and made a few phone calls. Once you get to the hospital, there's no more eating, and once you get into labor, there's no room for anything else.

Once Leiah was settled in her room, we played Spades, listened to Eminem, and taught my mom some "club" dance moves.

We must have been having too much fun because the nurse came in and said, "Well, if you're up playing cards, then we're not doing our job." The doctor told Leiah that since her water had broken and since her temperature was going up that they wanted her to deliver as soon as possible and hopefully keep the baby from getting an infection. Cue the pitocin.

Also cue Leiah moaning and breathing and doing her best to get through every contraction. Alli did her massage magic on Leiah's back, Mom read poetry about motherhood and delivery out of a book called Tender Hooks, and things got very quiet. Matty G. was kicked out of the room, and then Leiah eeked out her wish for an epidural.

Leiah was like a new woman after the epidural. She could still move her legs a little, and she wasn't in any pain.

My dad stopped by to visit, and when he left, we turned off all the lights and rested. Mom laid down on one of those hospital sleeper chairs, put a sheet over her head and tried to sleep, but I was way too jazzed for this to be over so suddenly. I sat by Leiah and watched her rest. There she was, my little sister, doing grown up things that I'm too afraid to try. I thought about when she was born and I visited her in the hospital, how I knew she was my sister but how little that meant then. She was more like something my mom had to deal with, something not really relevant to my life. Four-year-olds have no idea.

The nurse came in to check her at about 11pm, and she was at 10 cm. The lights came on, an army of medical people rushed in, a mirror was put in place, the bed was dismantled, instructions were given, and pushing was started. Leiah pushed two times and we could see Lilly's head.

Now, up until that moment, I've never seen a baby's head coming out of the love tunnel. I'd seen Heather give birth, but my eyes were locked on her, the anguish in her forehead, the out of body experience she was having. It was so surreal I couldn't look away, so I never saw Cole make his way into the world. This time, I stared into Leiah's lady parts, looked at that baby's head, and just when I was thinking it, Leiah said, "Ohhh, that looks weird."

The baby's head was all shriveled and squished, so much so that it didn't really look like a head. It looked hard and gray, like a giant dried up potato. I don't know why but the word "trachea" popped into my head when I first saw it. Leiah waited for another contraction, pushed two more times, and that suspicious potato became one of the most beautiful human beings alive. Her entire torso was out after those pushes, so the doctor told us to take pictures and told Leiah to reach down and grab her. Lillian left her momma's insides, came to rest on her chest, and has pretty much been there ever since.