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What the Groundhog is to spring, I am to winter.

15 Nov

I’ll admit, with global warming in full effect, it’s easy to lose track of the seasons. (Note: I did not say “loose.” For some reason, otherwise intelligent people are rampantly using “loose” instead of “lose.” Perhaps Facebook is making us dumber?)

Grammar done; now back to the weather: I see that friends in Chicago had 70 degree temperatures last week – normally unheard of for November.

Well, as a special service, I’ll share a tip that’s more useful than calendar or a thermometer if you want to know when we’ve officially left fall behind and shifted to winter: it’s my All-Fleece Uniform.

That’s right… just as a groundhog’s shadow might tell you that spring is quickly on its way, seeing me decked out in solid grey fleece from head to toe is a pretty good indication that warm days are behind us. I think even Sue Sylvester would admire the frequency with which I don this ensemble once cold weather strikes.

And in case you were wondering: yes, it IS the same top and bottom every day. What? Did you think I had seven of them folded in my drawer? Not *this* girl. I’m wearing the EXACT SAME fleece warm up suit every single day. Yep. There are only two words to describe it: pretty awesome.

(I do feel compelled to note that when the temperature dips, you can find me in the bathtub or shower 2-3 times/day in an attempt to warm up. So while I might be wearing the exact same clothes repeatedly, I’d like to think I’m still cleaner than the average person.)

Carry on. Next up: flannel sheets for my bed.

 

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An Ode to Fall: I’m ready to hibernate.

14 Nov

Alan’s in Michigan for the opening of rifle season, hoping to fill his freezer with venison for the next year.

Since I tend to be someone who gets energy from “alone time,” I’m using this week to recharge batteries through simple daily indulgences. This weekend, food has been the basis of some good exploration.

Friday night my friends Dan and Molly came over for wine and a simple spread of antipasti. (They brought the most amazing contribution – spicy meat and a meat/cheese-filled bread from Trinacria in Baltimore… check out the photo to the right if you’re drooling to get one yourself.)

Yesterday morning I hit the Farmer’s Market – hauling home sweet potatoes, broccoli, honeycrisp apples, spaghetti squash and a bag of purple kale – before walking into Georgetown to check out the Spice & Tea Exchange.

It was the kind of place where I wanted to go nuts and try everything, but at $4.89/oz, could easily go broke. Fortunately, I had a $20 credit (purchased for $9.60, courtesy of homerun.com), so I poked around and ended up leaving with four envelopes of spice blends –  Thai Coconut Rub, Autumn Blend, Tuscany Blend and Backwoods Hickory Rub. I’m testing out the Autumn Blend this morning on a pork roast, and my place smells awesome.

While it’s a bit pricey for my own daily consumption, the envelopes of tea, spices and flavored sugars would make excellent hostess gifts. In fact, I might be inspired to make some spice blends of my own at home and – with a few vials from the Container Store – have a little something extra that I slip in with a bottle of wine to take to this winter’s holiday parties.

Go ahead, steal my idea. Just make sure we don’t go to the same party. Or I will place this sticker on whatever you bring:

I’m sipping on a mug of freshly mulled cider as I write this, and I’ll be honest – the real reason I mulled the cider was because I wanted to make my place smell like fall. And you know what? My place DOES smell great now, and as opposed to burning a Yankee Candle, I can drink the finished product. Fall is the best season. Ever.

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His last name should be “Sedarious” so it rhymes with “hilarious.”

9 Oct

 

Waiting for Godot. But Sedaris.

 

Earlier this week Alan and I saw David Sedaris speak at the Lisner Auditorium at GWU. If you don’t know who he is, then you must either be a) So conservative you crap tea bags, or b) Dead.

He’s one of my favorite authors of all time, because he knows how to tell a great story. Well, that, and he’s from a pretty wacky family and is willing to exploit it for my amusement. And he moved to France with a limited grasp on French, much like I did. So, he’s kind of like an older, gayer, funnier, more talented version of me. And whereas I would pass a drug test, I’m pretty sure he would fail.

Alan had never seen him before, so the night got off to a bang when Sedaris took the stage and opened with, “I hate to be a dick, but…” And proceeded to stop and watch the sign language interpreter, just so he could see her sign the word, “dick.”

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Facebook: I actually DO have self-restraint.

7 Oct

Nothing to with this post, other than that it's made of pork. And it might be my dream house.

Someone commented on my friend Lisa’s Facebook status tonight. His name was Miguel L. Lama. I was tempted to ask if his middle name really started with an “L” or if he just wanted to be known as M. Llama. That means either he’s funny or his parents are.  (I’m not, because I immediately started to think of a way to suggest that if he were a DJ, he could go by “m night shyamallama.” I don’t even know why that struck me as funny.)

My friend Trudi posted this: “My fortune: “You are the crispy noodle in the vegetarian salad of life.”

My immediate thought was: “Mmm. Crispy noodles.” Which then got me thinking, “Mmmmm. Pork rinds.” So when I went to comment on her status, I typed, “Are you crispy because you were fried in pork lard?” But before I hit “share” I had the sense to think, “What if SHE is a vegetarian? It might be offensive to be compared to bacon fat.”

And then I thought, “OMG. I can’t imagine anyone would think that a bacon fat reference would be a good thing.” Except me. (And started banging my head against the wall as punishment for being obtuse. Yet also awesome because I like bacon so much.)

And then – because I clearly didn’t have enough reasons to know that comment would have gone over like a fart in church – it occurred to me: “Isn’t Trudi Jewish? Isn’t there something about pork that would make my comment doubly offensive to my Jewish friends?”

Now that I think of it: it’s actually kind of startling that I have ANY friends on Facebook.

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I don’t know how his kids turned out, but the grill named after him is AWESOME.

2 Sep

Used to be, if you had asked me which small appliance I could not live without, my answer would’ve been dustbuster, followed by food processor. These days, my answer would be a little tougher to formulate, because there’s a dark horse in the race: my George Foreman Grill.

George Foreman and his grill

Like the man, love the machine.

Dude. I know: these are designed for college students and senior citizens (presumably because it’s best if they have limited exposure to heating elements). But I’m starting to think I could host an entire Food Network show (or, perhaps more accurately, an infomercial) based on Foreman cuisine.

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