An afternoon of beauty making

Today, I spent the afternoon with Sydney, my 7-yr old friend. We had a lotion playdate, which also included an imoromptu trip to CVS for nail polish. She made a new smell out of coconut and vanilla that we called "white chocolate".

She made her own labels and her "private" label is Blue Sparkle. She also helped make a sugar salt scrub that I have wanted to try that I used in Key West. Below is the picture. You use equal parts cane sugar, sea salt and grapeseed oil. We both loved it. Now, to perfect that hand salve.

Back in the 80's, They Would Have Called That Cheap

That was a comment from my boss last year when Catherine and I started carpooling to work.  He's right. In the Eighties our environmentalism would have been as foreign as grocery store sushi or doggie daycares. (Hey, it's not our fault carpooling is good on the budget too.)

We manage to carpool at least once a week, most of the time twice and three times if we are lucky. We've been carpooling a year now and it is in this 25 minute commute (one-way--a total of 50 minutes a day) that I get some great advice or learn some new helpful tip. (This carpooling thing may also have therapy benefits. Wonder if I can use my health care flex card on gas?)

I would love to take credit, but it is Catherine who told me about this one. Who needs to buy a boot tree when one is a wine drinker?

If you have any other wine drinking leftover ideas, feel free to share them in the comment section.   I'm not scared of a bottle of wine or a glue gun craft.

The Keys to Relaxation

Every year I have gotten better about over committing in November and December. I'm not perfect yet, but I am a lot better at it each year.  This year I was so proud that my panic attacks were limited to one.  Most of January, I spend in silence and withdraw from most human contact.  Thus, it has taken me a while to get around to writing about the Sister trip to Key West.  Liddy obviously need a lot of help translating and typing a post (she is always complaining about her lack of thumbs---evolution and all).

For the third year in a row, Stacey and I have spent Christmas in a tropical location. This year we tried out Key West.  When I mentioned that we were going to Key West this summer to my friend, Charlie, he immediately runs upstairs to pull out a folder with Cayo Hueso Resort written on it and began to gush (as much as a boy can gush about something other than cars) about how awesome the resort was and how helpful Joyce was. A couple of clicks and a few phone calls we had direct flights from Charlotte and a place with a heated pool.

Once we landed we found lunch and began working on transportation. I don't know who was more excited for a bike only weekend.  Odd, that I was excited considering I love getting around on a bike until I actually have to do it.  I traded my bike for private yoga lessons the week prior to vacation.  I think the success of the week could be traced back to the fact we did not have to drive and our normal personality clashes did not have a chance to surface because we were not navigating in a foreign language in a car.

Our trusty steads

For the first few days we did not move from the pool.  Some how I have an obsession with a pool and it is a decadent delight just to leisure by a pool.

A heated bliss

It was during our first day that we had a few hours of overcast and really our only bought of rain. We decided to move from the pool and scope out our general surroundings when it started to rain and we ducked into a little bar called the French Quarter.  Immediately, I realized we were in a gay club (not that there is anything wrong with their liquor), but I was more amused how long it took Stacey to figure that out (another 15 minutes).  She wasn't convinced until after she noticed a poster for amateur stripper night and it was a young, very buff, man.  In all things gay and fun, it was at the French Quarter that we were reminded of the goodness called HAPPY HOUR.  For those of you not from North Carolina, this is not going to be anything new to you.  North Carolinians--> other states have drink specials for certain hours of the afternoon/night were you can score a great deal.  It isn't just for food.  We eventually learned where we liked to happy hour and planned our beach/pool time around it.  Our favorite was the upstairs porch of nine one five.

One happy hour we went to the tallest building on the island--La Concha Hotel for the view at sunset.  The bar actually didn't have specials but did have a very generous bartender.

Cell Towers are on my mind and yes they are every where

The sunset

Where we went to Christmass and then there is an ocean.

The view from the street below

Our Christmas tradition is for me to stick  my feet in the sand and Stacey to do a cannonball into the pool.

A little stormy, but totally worth it

 We grilled our Christmas dinner and attempted to go on a ghost tour.  As it turns out all the people we asked said that the company would do a tour and we even left a message to confirm our reservation (no message back and I'm still waiting on that phone call) but we found a closed door. We were upset to put it lightly.  I often tell people that Stacey and I have opposite traits, but together we make one awesome person.  Stacey is better at certain confrontations than I am and thanks  to her skills we got two free tickets for a different night.  The guide was a great story teller and looked like he would also enjoy participating in the Renaissance Festival, but let's just say my favorite part was the discounted cocktail we took on the tour.  If you ever decide to do the ghost tour.  Don' expect to be scared, but you will be entertained.

Key West does not lack for some fun photo opportunities....

Sharing a drink with a friend

Don't bug me

Tourist shot one

Tourist shot two

Butterfly or moth...You'll have to go to the museum to find out.

or roosters....

This year's vacation was definitely one of my favorites and I have already started to lobby Chuck that Christmas is better in tropical climates

Liddy's Year in Review

On Sunday (1-15-12), I turned 12 and I’m just hitting my prime. This year has been quite the adventure with and without the Food Lady (Ya’ll know her as Whitney, but let’s use FL for short). Birthdays are time of reflection of what I’ve learned this year; what did I do that I really liked; looking ahead to a new adventure.

So, you ask, “what does a dog learn?” After I mastered, sit, lay, roll over, and paw in 2007, the Food Lady stopped our morning school. She obviously realized I excelled at learning but here are a few observations from my 11 years on earth.

• You don’t have to like Mondays. I hate Mondays and at 12 I don’t think I’ll ever start liking them until the FL gets to start taking me to work whose chances are somewhere between slim and never going to happen. Don’t worry; she’s working on a mental condition so I can be her therapy dog. Ya’ll know she’s crazy enough to pull it off.
• Running like you don’t have a care in the world is really good medicine for the soul. I’m getting a little older and my body parts don’t work like the used to. I run on three legs because of my knee caps, but I love every minute of time outside with FL. I especially loves when the takes me in a car to a park or hiking. 




Me and the family on a hike near Highlands, NC


• The best friend you’ll ever have has thumbs (and is your sugar-mama). Seriously, I will cut you if you try and take her….she’s mine and that is that. I haven’t forgiven her for posting the hippo video on youtube or certain pictures she posted on Facebook. Forgiveness is a process and revenge is so much more fun.
• Oral hygiene is important. Due to some poor oral care from my previous years and because I’m a yorkie, I am starting to lose some teeth, but I don’t let it stop me from eating all my favorite foods—bacon, raw veggies, cooked veggies and GREENIES. I also don’t let my questionable breath stop me from playing my favorite human game—sneak my serpent tongue into a facial orifice. (Apparently, my breath is rank to you humans—trust me in the dog world it smells like roses. I love to roll around in bird poop so I know what I’m talking about.)

Hair only a mother could love

• It takes a village to keep me in the level of care I am accustomed to. I am so thankful to all the people who watch me while Food Lady has to work late or is out of town especially since I’m scared to fly. FL has been going to Houston a lot….planes…not my thing. You all do a great job and I really know I’m loved (even though every time FL comes to pick me up I go into my high pitch bark---I’m just telling her how much of a good time I had and how much I missed her). A special thanks to Mary Perez (and Rob Dooley), Jennifer Daniel (and boys--Ian, Conner and Spencer), Nicole Storey, Kelly Bennett, Ronnie Husbands, Cory Barnes, Charlie Rulick and Anna Frueler.

As far as what I was up to in 2011….Here is a short recap.

Let’s begin with and end. Last year the Food Lady and some of her friends who have four-legged friends of mine threw me an absolute bash for my 11th birthday. We had so much so that I won’t need a party again for another year. Below are a few pictures from that party:

Can you see me?  This is my hunting jacket and it is ever so warm.

I had so much fun I passed out at my own party

Some friends playing at my party

Charlotte had one of the coldest winters on record and I spent more time in a sweater than I really wanted. I prefer au naturelle .

(Note this picture is from 2010, but you are smart people I think you will get the drift.)

In the spring several humans got married—Emily and Jonathan; Whitney and Tim; Jarrett and Bryce; Chad and Stacy. I wasn’t invited, but then they’d have to invite all the dogs and that can be an unruly party. I got to stay with some of my best pals—Winston and Tex when FL was out of town.



This is all of us together at my house and yes, there is no room for the Food Lady when I have friends spend the night.



I've been very busy on the social scene with the Tennis ladies and different dog events like Pet Paloosa. The tennis team isn't winning any games, but they do have a reputation for having the best tailgates in the league.

At Jackalope Jack's

Who says they need a dalmation?

This fall the Food Lady began dating another human.  He lives in Texas and goes by the name of Chuck.  Quite frankly, I call him the Distraction, but I'm growing fond of him.  I make him drive me places and I especially enjoy being the center of his attention.  He's a keeper.

For me the fall means Blessing of the Pets.  I don't think FL was supposed to take this shot, but what can I say, I am her muse. I spent Thanksgiving with the family and Christmas with Mary, Rob, Tex and Winston because the FL went to Key West with her sister (back to that whole...I don't fly thing)

Well, ya'll I wish each of you a great 2012.  And, if at all possible don't let what happened to me in the picture below happen to you.  Bows and pink were never my thing.  Cheers to a bow and pink free year!

Crafty's Corner

So I've started to get a little crafty again.  Summer of 2010 I got rid of all the craft projects I had started, but never finished.  I've been collecting cork for years in hopes of doing somethings with them one day.  The internet can be a wonderful and dangerous place to anyone who is looking for a "simple" project.

Sit back for a sidebar story.....Some of my corks went to an unnamed friend's 30th birthday present.  I made him a cork board out of the corks.  My pinky and ring fingers went numb for 12 hours because I sawed each cork in half so they would lay properly inside the frame.  Two years later, I am enlightened to the fact that my birthday present never made the car ride home and ended up in a friend's garage which was later placed in the trash when this friend with the garage moved.  It is not the worst thing in the world he has done, but let's just say it ranks in his top 5. 

I've never been quite happy about the cork wreaths that I see until I cam across this one on Pinterest (otherwise known as my new obsession). Scroll down to the middle.  She has a lot of other great wreath ideas.

If you think about making this one, I offer the following tips:

• It's going to take a lot of corks. From the picture below, you will see that I ran out.
• Figure out how you want to mount the wreath before starting the endeavor.  I ran wire through the foam and then wrapped it around the wreath.   From there I looped some ribbon to the back of the wire in order to hang the wreath.
• Champagne corks work nicely too.
• I'm not confident that the toothpicks are going to stay in long term and some may require some glue.
• And yes, my hands are sore from jamming toothpicks into cork, but again, I think it was totally worth it.

UPDATE 1-18-12:  Thanks to my friend Nicole, I was given enough corks to finish out the wreath.  I think it came out better than I had expected!

It's All in the Kraut. UPDATED

First let me say that this is my first post completely written from my phone.
My friend Nicole is in a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and she and another friend split a weekly share of vegetables. Sometimes this means that as her friend we have a lot of veggies to help her eat. If you have been following me on facebook you'll know that we tried P. Allen Smith's Aunt Genny's recipes for sauerkraut.  It would be the picture with just the jars.
It should be stated that I don't eat sauerkraut so Cory and Nicole thought that it was overcooked and too sweet (sidebar: Nicole has her fake sugar labeled as real sugar and she has no real sugar in her house so we used brown sugar).
Nicole was again given two heads of cabbage so we are trying this sauerkraut thing again except this time we are doing it the old fashioned way and fermenting before we jar. The picture is with the bowl and the brick.  This was on it's first day. We have at least 3 more to go. Check back and I'll keep you posted on the Kraut progress.



Day one



Our first attempt

Update:  12-9-11

All I want for Christmas is an air freshener.

I think it is a fine line between rotting and fermenting as my back bedroom smells of cabbage and muck.  I've been skimming as the directions say and thus far, the process doesn't make me want to start eating it.  I find it interesting that most people really don't know what goes into the food that they love.  We are creatures of convenience.  For instance, if I actually had to kill my meat, I'd be a vegetarian.  I just don't think I could do it.  Thinking about killing my meat does make me eat less meat.  Yesterday, I had a Chick-fil-a sandwich which was my first fast food in quite sometime.  I've been consciously trying to put more vegetables in my life and for some reason yesterday my body was craving a Chick-fil-a sandwich with extra pickles. My body must be crazy because not more than 30 minutes after eating it I felt awful (physically---not emotionally guilty for eating meat kind of way).  Back to the Kraut....I'm out of town this weekend and I can only imagine what I will be coming back to but do not fear, I'll post it.

Update: 12-30-11
The Kraut resides on the back porch since I got back from Key West.  I walked in the door and was bold over by the smell of sweaty gym socks baking in mayonnaise on a late August afternoon.  It has taken two days, three candles,  and many, many simmers of rosemary (not to mention the Febreeze because I fear my clothes smell foul) to bring my house back to it's normal odor.  No one was around to "skim the scum" during the holiday so the mold is something out of a movie that I swear could take over the world.  I'll post a picture of it tomorrow....it's bad people--real bad.

Take aways from this experience:

• It is good to see some of my friends take an interest in food preservation.  I think that if we all did it more we would each care about the work that goes into food preparation. Perhaps, the friends and I should stick to the simple things like jams.
• I need more research on when mold turns to fermentation.  If you have any idea when this happens, please let me know.  My Betty Crocker Guide was no help.  Let's face it, friends don't like it when you accidentally poison them.
• I prefer Aunt Ginny's recipe.  It is scum free.  Scum is still gross and even if they changed the name to "precious potent lollipops" I still wouldn't want to do it.

There is no way this screams, "Eat me! I am a German delicacy"

Updated 1-18-12
So last Saturday was intersting for the kraut.  I wanted to reclaim my favorite white mixing bowl so the kraut had to go.  I finished reading "The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Food, Farming and Love" by  Krstin Kimball and was inspired to dig a hole if I could not have a farm of my own.  The kraut needed to go and my little 5x5 garden could use some added mold (anyway, I didn't want Liddy to eat it and get sick).  When I went to dump the kraut in to my two foot hole, I noticed that it didn't look so bad.  It didn't smell so bad and it didn't burn my tongue when I touched it.  All I could hear was Nicole's voice in my head telling me that it would be wasteful to bury the kraut so I scooped some of the kraut back out and proceeded to was it off and jar it.  I've had a taste. It's ok.  Nicole thinks it is a bit salty.  I did not can it because I pulled it out of the dirt.  Still, this is not on my list of things I ever want to do again.  That was a lot of work for one jar of kraut.

From the farming flower child who is my new hero to playing with tigers

Again I am amazed at the amount of time that passes between posts.  I come up with the great ideas to share and then never seem to get around to making time to write them down.   Well not to muddle the point let's get to the next entry. 

Back to back weekends in November I visited two colleges and these two institutions could not have been more different.  First, I went with Anna and the 2014 Circle de Luz girls (click on the link if you want more information about the organization) to Warren Wilson College .  These girls are rising sophomores and this is their fourth college visit.  When Anna first approached me about going to WWC, my response was, "but it will take like a day to get the patchouli oil off".  Every one I have ever known to graduate from WWC has a certain air of Asheville and wannabe post modern hippie that my use of the stereotype is not unfounded.  Don't get me wrong, the stereotype lives, but it was not without challenge or has taken a new unpredictable facet.  For instance, yes, I did see a kid come to lunch barefoot and in his bathrobe and yes our lovely small private school educated, from New Jersey wearing a hat that tripled as a scarf and gloves in the design of a frog did give off a certain element of "peace to all" vibe.  BUT my friends, I was completely floored by my new hero (I think her name is Kate) who does her work study at the campus FARM (Everyone at WWC has to work on campus if they live on campus-commune-esque and also do 100 hours of community service before graduating).  Kate killed her own turkey for Thanksgiving last year after killing chickens at school.  She rules because our turkey came from Bojangles!  Below are pictures from the farm.  My thirty-something self wants to go back to college just so I can farm.



I giggled like a school girl over the "piggery"



Seriously, doesn't it make you want a little piggy as a pet?

Why I probably won't get a pig as a pet.

The very next weekend I found myself in Tigertown, South Carolina, otherwise known as Clemson.  I went with my friend Charlie to an alumni event.  Friday we hung out with his friends from graduate school and Saturday we bounced from tailgate to tailgate to tailgate. 

Just for your imagery...boing...boing...boing.

We went to the game, but actually never went into the game.  My day included two outfit changes (I am now the proud owner of a discounted Clemson t-shirt) and hating my feet by the end of the day. (note to self:  Boots are cute.  Boots with heals are very cute. Walk in boots with heals can be done, but not for 7 hours).  It was a great game against Wake Forest and we watched the end while debating whether spending $42 for a jersey for a 2-yr old was worth the price for the cuteness factor Charlie would get from watching him wear it--we concluded that Clemson fans were crazy if they paid that much for a throw away jersey. 

I saw a lot of farmer-types at Clemson and perhaps a few that have killed or attempted to kill a deer, but I guarantee you they are not as brave as my new hero Kate and killed their own turkey for Thanksgiving.  Enjoy some shots of an absolutely gorgeous football day.

The stadium before the crowd descended.

Now that is what I call a tailgating MACHINE.  Totally a "Roof is on Fire" kind of party

Charlie and his grad school friends. Guess which one went deer hunting the next weekend?