Previous month:
July 2011
Next month:
September 2011

up with figs, thoughts from a bookstore

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Thoughts from a bookstore
Thoughts from a bookstore on a wet, windy Sunday afternoon:
1. No one likes to go to a bookstore on a wet, windy afternoon, which is suprising. These are the sorts of afternoons built for bookstores, especially bookstore attached to a coffee shop. Still, it's lonely in here.
2. But I am not alone. There is a teenage in the kid's section who has plunked herself down with a stack of books and settled in. Which is fine, sorta. I get the impulse. Still, I be happier if she'd buy something. Because this is a bookstore.
3. On wet, windy afternoons, especially those where I slept in and can't quite focus all the way, like my brain is still wrapped in the low, gray clouds, don't lend themselves to poetry or wit. Also, this week has been long and soul-sucking, which lends itself not to fabulous prose but to quiet despair. All I have are disconnected observations that ache to connect, somehow, and fail.
4. Perhaps I should give up and eat my blueberry muffin. Or throw it at the teenager, who remains here and remains reading. When all else fails, loft a baked good. That could be my motto.
5. Not really.
Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.
 

 


riding the storm out

To be honest, we live far enough away from the coast that we didn't expect the weather on Sunday to be that bad. Wind. Rain. Then more wind. Which is more or less what we got. Except - just when we thought the worst had passed and when the house was full of people who had come over because I wanted to make a big pot of sauce - all the power went out.* And stayed that way until 2 a.m., which we know because that's when everything came back on and woke us up. 

Compared to how bad others have (and still have it), we have been very lucky. And if you go just on county east or northwest**, they are in states of emergency. Hope it all settles out soon.

The sauce, however, was very good, if not nearly as good as my grandmother's, as was the company. 

The day before, we went blueberry picking. Beacause when there is heavy weather, you need blueberries.

The kids got bored and started stalking butterflies.

IMG_7360

(One of these children is not mine.)

And the Featureless Saint spent most of his weekend (and today and probably tomorrow as well) like this:

IMG_7361

And another shot of him explaining what all of the pipes in our upstairs bath do:

IMG_7363

Lovely, eh? The only information I really wanted was "when will the water go out to the street and not into the kitchen light fixture again?"***

Some weeks, the bear eats you, you know?

--------------------------------------------

* Not all over town, mind. Just us and 31 of our neighbors. 

** Delaware and Schoharie, respectively. 

*** Long story short: I drained the tub after bathing the Boy on Thursday and all of the water ran directly out of the kitchen ceiling and onto the floor. Which is not ideal. 


qotd, on destiny

"'You're not destined or chosen, I wish I could tell you that you were if that would make it easier, but it's not true. You're in the right place at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that's enough.'"

-- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, which you really ought to read when it comes out in a few short weeks...


actual knitting content + proto sweater (maybe)

I finished the Featureless Saint's earwarmer.

IMG_7353

The inside is lined with alpaca:

IMG_7354

You are welcome to add your own caption to this photo. The Featureless Saint wondered what the heck I was doing and why I was taking a picture.

Thanks to the Stitch Bitch, who had a stash of knitted sweatery components in her craft closest that she wanted to get rid of, I've spent a good deal of the last few days making these:

IMG_7355

Which now looks like this:

IMG_7358

I have zero idea what any of it will become, mostly because I haven't felt any knitting compulsions lately. I know. I'm concerned, too. 

The Diva, however, keeps telling me how much she likes the red and there's enough for a sweater for her. So...maybe?

 


up with figs, ow.

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Ow

It was not the shoe she was looking for.

She needed something sensible, something kind to her aging feet and fallen arches but that didn’t scream “matron.” Rubber gum souls were right out. A nice leather upper, maybe. Or a clog. Everyone loves a clog, especially with a kicky cheetah print on top.

The heart, however, wants what it wants. And what it wanted was a stripey high heel with dingles and dongles. 

It wanted a shoe that changes your life. That says, “I will not be bound by pragmatism anymore! I am more than my usual footwear makes me seem! I am still alive! I live!”

It was not the shoe she was looking for but, perhaps, it was the shoe that she needed.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.



many things make a post

* Properties of Jon Stewart's sweat.

* Rockstars in swimsuits.

* Scott Miller on vinyl.

* Posts about beet pulp ought not be this funny.

* Two from the Times: On children's stories and economic theory and the wonder of the dollar store.

* Running has led me to many discoveries. My favorite so far is Marc Parent's column in Runner's World. Sample quote: "Through the first half-mile, we did what anyone would do if they found themselves in the middle of a foolish, ill-advised, entirely voluntary activity--we laughed hysterically."

* There are few sounds more lovely than Yo-Yo Ma playing the cello.

* How did I not know Sam Bee was writing for Babble? Also: this.


we were away, eh

We took a trip up to the Great White North en familia last week.*  As one does.

There's too much to capture, really. So, the highlights, in picture form with captions.

IMG_7124

The Boy gave the Musée de la Civilisation the thumbs up.

IMG_7132

He got to play with a tornado.

IMG_7152

They have a dress-up storytelling section where the Diva got to be a fairy. The Boy shunned the costumes but dug the slides and gnomes. One little girl kept running up to both kids (and us) and telling us (excitedly and in French) how she saw the story going. I get the feeling we weren't fitting into her vision. C'est la vie.

IMG_7157

Part of the storytelling world. 

IMG_7167

This particular Musée is now in my top three list of Musées ever.** The Featureless Saint described their approach as "theatrical but still informative." I concur. It was also here that I discovered that my talent for looking like I understand what you're saying and therefore encouraging you to talk more extends to French as well - even though my French is, at best, awful.

This part of Quebec is known for its falls. Like Montmorency.

IMG_7213

IMG_7215

There's a cable car that runs up one side. We decided to take the stairs down. 

IMG_7221

It's a lot of stairs. And reminds me of one of the ancient Myst worlds.

IMG_7199

There were bridges....

IMG_7200

... which the Boy did not dig.

IMG_7203

And a sticker, which amused me.

The next day we went to Canyon Ste-Anne, a more dynamic waterfall by far. 

IMG_7243

Plus, it had concrete animals.

IMG_7251

"You made a bear!"***

IMG_7298

I'm generally not terrified by bridges**** - but the ones that crossed this particular canyon gave me a serious case of the heebies. So far to fall! So wobbly! So gappy! 

IMG_7287

Still, it was damn scenic, if impossible to capture with my meagre photography skills.

IMG_7329

This part of Quebec also has a series of economusées, which are mini retail/educational experiences about a regional craft. This one was about wood carving.

IMG_7335

Paper, where I swooned.

IMG_7345

We took a ferry over to L'Isle-aux-Coudres.*****

IMG_7346

Gorgeous, in a wind-swept northern island-y way. 

On the way back, we made what we thought would be a small****** detour.

IMG_7348

(They had a better time than this picture indicates. Plus, there was ice cream.)

On the whole, a lovely almost-week. I'm ready to stay put for a bit and should, since classes start for me on Wednesday. Which will be a different adventure.

----------------------------------------------

* Here, to be specific.

** There were other exhibits, including one on Rome and on Gods, that weren't nearly as photo friendly. It's not just for kids. 

*** Name that pop culture reference.

**** That was the Laurent Bridge, which you can only get to by going down a step of 150+ steps. At the top of said steps, a helpful sign warns that no one with any health issues at all should even attempt to go down and back up. But if I can climb a Czech tower... 

****** Literally, isle of hazelnuts. 

****** It took us about four hours out of our way. Ah, well.


qotd, recombinant cuisine

"... he was fascinated by the midwestern/middle American phenomenon of recombinant cuisine. Rice Krispie Treats being a prototypical example in that they were made by repurposing other foods that had already been prepared (to wit, breakfast cereal and marshmallows). And of course any recipe that called for a can of cream of mushroom soup fell into the same category. The unifying principal behind all recombinant cuisine seemed to be indifference, if not outright hostility, to the use of anything that a coastal foodie would define as an ingredient."

-- Reamde, Neal Stephenson.