Minnesota Summer

Well Hello Summer!  So glad you could make it!  Just this past week it has finally felt like it's name around here- sunshine, humidity, crispy skin from being at the pool from open till close, bug bites, BBQ's and gin bootlegs.  Ahhh...finally.  

We wait a long time for this season and have no shame in living it up like it's the last day we will feel the sun on our faces.  It is a season where we see certain folks that we otherwise don't during the shut in months and we eat certain foods unavailable six months from now and savor sitting outside for leisurely lunches on backyard patios. 

Bedtimes seem to fade- is that my six year running down the sidewalk barefoot still wearing his swimsuit long after dark with a drippy popsicle hanging from his hand?  Why yes, I do believe it is!  And I make no apologies.  Morning routines are botched and sports are occasionally skipped.  As annoying as it can be sometimes, I do love the "swap the kids" around the neighborhood business that seems to be pure Minnesota.  In our old California neighborhood I didn't ever experience the "summer parent support system" of  "I need to take J to baseball so can you take Z and G and when I get back send F, C and C over for a while so you can run some errands and then let's meet up because I need to take M and J over to the F's for a movie date with their nanny and then my Dad is going to take them to DQ for a while and then we'll all get together in your backyard so Mr. C can BBQ??"  Yup, that's pretty much the daily story around here for three solid months and we are lucky and we love it and we are all ready for it end by Labor Day. 

But until then I will soak up the sound of cicadas, the smell of freshly cut grass, the dirty bare feet, the freckled noses, sunscreen smell on my boys' hair, early morning walks before it gets too hot (okay, who am I kidding, mid morning), back yard movies, and the freedom my boys feel from fishing in the creek down the block by themselves.   That is pure Minnesota summer- and I'm very thankful you have decided to arrive.

Ignore the Weather and Carry On

It's been one hell of a winter. Horrible. Unbearable and long. Dreary. Downright torturous as far as weather is concerned. But you know what else is equally as torturous? Listening to people complain about it for months on end. I'm guilty of it, everyone is, but seriously it's only weather. If all I have to complain about is the weather then my life is pretty freaking amazing. Seriously. My children are healthy, I have a roof over my head (even though it has been leaking once again in my office due to the God damn ice dam that just couldn't stay away yet again this winter) and food on my table. I. Am. Lucky. Really lucky, so weather, you can kiss my ass.

Even if it is raining ice at the moment and I am still wearing a puffy jacket and my youngest is still required to haul boots and snow pants back and forth to school, this weather can suck it. You can see by my writing habits that I pretty much close up like a three season porch for the winter as I do believe I have posted once since November. Yet we stay. I stay. We endure. We trudge through the slop, the cold, the howling wind and the overall bullshit we must deal with in this part of the country. It is not supposed to snow at the end of April and I'm not exactly sure why I have chosen the single ugliest Spring day I have ever seen to come out of my writing hole, but I suppose I just can't take it anymore. The sun will shine, God damnit. The grass will turn green. I will drink Rosé in the proper weather conditions in my backyard again. My children will swim in an outdoor pool in this state. It just might be a while. But in the meantime I am getting back to writing, so watch out, we have a lot of catching up to do.

Introducing The Spectacular Bitch!

I was so excited when I opened my email this morning to learn that The Spectacular Bitch has gone live!  In case you're wondering, the SB is the sassy female alter ego to the Magnificent Bastard and she is finally ready to hand out opinions and advice on everything from Lady Gaga to sartorial sloughing, as in "Uggs are basically the boot equivalent of sweatpants, and as such, they will make your feet feel like two depressed fat asses with one hand on the remote control and one hand buried in a bag of Cheetos".  You will also love her general musings on pop culture, vino, music, and trends doled out freely in her signature brawny, sometimes backhanded, brazen humor.  

The site is basically a mirror image (in pink) of the MB's and the witty, sassy, flirtatious tone of The Spectacular Bitch is part condescending, part sweet tart- my favorite combination.  I have been lucky enough to meet The SB in person once and she comes off demure in both stature and demeanor, soft spoken and appropriate.  Who knew she had all that peevish sauciness bottled up in her bad ass Latina self!  You Go Girl- Congrats!  And congrats to The MB for finally getting off his lazy, chino clad ass and building the code to allow her to go LIVE!  We can now officially crack open the Vino Blanco and toast to the launch of what will surely be a great site.

Viva Spectacular Bitch!  Salud!  

Sorry, obviously I don't know how to use Spanish punctuation on my computer.  SB, can you help me out?

Here Today...

Gone tomorrow. 

Edina, Minnesota.  January 10, 2012.

Novato, California (my sister's house).  

Same time, same date as above.

Never, ever, ever, ever happened before.

And I am sure it will never, ever, ever, ever happen again.

But kinda cool that I caught it.

Moments are too fast...

Hockey.

As my two older boys raced through their homework yesterday after their first day back at school, I knew what the rush was all about.  Not because they didn't want to study spelling lists, complete their reading or struggle over Homelinks, but because they had a date at the skating rink down the street.  A date they have kept for the last two and a half weeks, including Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the same with New Years.  
My middle guy is a die hard hockey animal who plays every game with more speed, determination, and raw love of the game than star quality skill.  He watches more of the NHL network now than Nickelodeon, takes slap shots in the driveway before hopping on the school bus, and last night when I kissed his cheek, fast asleep in an exhausted, tranquil state, he was muttering something about a Boston Bruin being traded.  No lie.  
My oldest son does not officially play hockey, but has learned to love skating, the pick-up games and the camaraderie of the neighborhood park on a crisp winter afternoon.  Even after his right hand was run over by a hockey skate the week before Christmas requiring many stitches and a splint to keep the severed tendon in place, he's still at it. *
I have watched these two boys of mine walk out the back door with Edina sweatshirts and skull caps, leather "Choppers", and sticks threaded with skates over their shoulders for weeks now.  I am proud they are enjoying time together, that they are being so responsible out on their own at the park (even though I still worry), and that they are healthy, active, and able to embrace the love of a sport that has always been dear to my heart.  But it doesn't come without a certain level of risk and serious injury.

Last Friday when Benilde- St. Margaret's player Jack Jablonski was checked from behind and left with a severed spinal cord and paralysis, it left us all stunned.  Not surprised necessarily, but stunned and scared.  That young boy lying in the hospital with the possibility of never walking again could have been ours.  In a sense he is ours. The hockey community takes care of their own and so does this community.  Hopefully the news coverage, Facebook pages, Twitter accounts, You Tube videos and Caring Bridge site that have all been set up for this young man will not only increase awareness about what is already illegal in the game, but provide Jack and his family with the outpouring of support, love, strength and blessings that will be necessary to navigate the tough road ahead.
At this point in time no one is sure whether or not Jack Jablonski will ever walk again, let alone get up on skates, but I can bet one thing to be true.  I know this sounds crazy, insane, and incomprehensible to most, but when he is conscious and able to share his thoughts with his community- local and hockey- that he will say how much he loved this sport and how much it gave him in his young life.  


 *I must take this opportunity to thank the local surgeon I have known for most of my life who kept his office open late just to stitch up my son when his hand was cut at the rink.  Dr. X, I know how private you are so I won't mention your name, but you are amazing and I can't tell you how much we appreciate what you did.  You are caring and professional and unbelievable at what you do.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!   xxoo to both you and your wonderful wife!

My Day with Andrew

Sorry people.  

Wine Wednesday is being moved to Thursday once again because I have to tell you about my day with Andrew Shue!!  

 Andrew talks jeans with the owner of Amore and Fede Edina, Kim Parmater

As you all know, Andrew (yeah, we're on a first name basis, but I'm not sure he knows my first name) came to town for the Twin Cities launch of Mom.com and it's not everyday you get to take him shopping for jeans (for his wife) at Amore and Fede in Edina, have lunch at Barrio, dash downtown to the KSTP studios for a spot on Twin Cities Live, head upstairs to the Lori and Julia radio show then back to his hotel in Edina (he didn't invite me in) and off to Pinstripes for the launch party.  Whew, exhausting!  Not really...

"Do you think these will fit my wife?"

It was fun.  Super fun and I figured it's also not everyday I get to have Andrew Shue in my front seat so I say to the guy, "Andrew, since I've got you in my front seat, how's Elisabeth doing?"  I had to ask, all my guy friends wanted to know so here's the scoop fellas- she's married with two kids living in L.A., still doing the acting thing and she's actually on the set of a movie right now, in New Orleans, I think.  Their families are all going on vacation together in the Caribbean the first week of December and I didn't ask where, even though I wanted to.  Didn't want to pry. 

A few of the ladies from Mom.com Minneapolis

But enough about Elisabeth, let's talk about Andrew.  He is is a pretty normal guy, extremely bright, a total businessman, a natty dresser and he is passionate about Mom.com.  He said the idea was actually hatched while talking with Meredith Viera about the power of soccer moms.  Brilliant, I say!  Brilliant!  As it exists now, there are only daily deals, but just wait people, there is more.  SO much more!  Andrew describes the site as "conversation, content, and commerce".  It's going to be fabulous and I'm terribly excited about it all and can't wait to share, but I digress.  

Now you all know me, I typically don't hold back and I hope I don't get canned for this, but I found it a touch odd that he was a super soft talker.  Even though he is extremely well spoken, he is a very soft talker.  It's not a bad thing, but one on one, he's a soft talker.  Publicly, not so much, but even when he was sitting right next to me in the car it was hard to hear him.  In fact, he is such a soft talker that I could barely make out what he was saying on the phone to his wife Amy Robach about a clogged toilet and how she had to put water in the tank and not the bowl.  I tell you people, so stinkin' normal!   I thought I was the only one with a clogged toilet.

Not being a soft talker with Lori and Julia at 107.1 FM

  

In addition to being a soft talker (which by the way is not a bad thing) he's also super serious, but the brainy ones usually are.  You can't go to Dartmouth and be some kind of dummy, yet the seriousness kinda threw me which is why I think I busted out the Elisabeth question.  I mean, the dude has traveled the world, done the Hollywood thing, been to dinner at the White House and is madly in love with a Today Show anchor, and here he is in Minnesota (in my front seat!) and I'm asking him about his sister.  I'm 100% positive he thought I was from Mars, but whatever.  He just rolled with it- no attitude, no fuss, he signed autographs outside of KSTP for a few strange men that were lurking about, and didn't even want a dab of powder on his nose for a television interview.  He simply wanted to deliver his message about Mom.com and get on with his business.  He totally gets that he has to do the dog and pony show and was so gracious to every single person that wanted a photo with him.  All in the name of Mom.com.  

He took the time away from his extremely busy life, his lovely wife, kids he obviously adores and is very involved with (just a note-he rewards good grades with family dinners at Olive Garden), to promote something he is passionate about and we all appreciated it.  

With Lori and Julia in front of The Man Wall

Will Andrew make it up on The Man Wall?

Oh yeah!

Admiring the wall backstage at KSTP- signed by the likes of Hubert Humphrey, Paul Newman, Jane Wyatt, and countless others

Here is Andrew's contribution- "Great to be a part of the history of storytellers".  He genuinely thought this wall was pretty cool.  I could tell.

Twin Cities Live

MinnesOOta says "thank you" to Andrew and the Mom.com team from New York- betcha' come back real soooon!

Transitions

Here we go again.  


The leaves have fallen, they're all raked up (almost), the gutters are cleaned and the garage is emptied out to accommodate two cars and a snow blower which I am insisting we purchase this season after four years of Mr. C shoveling in the cold, dark early morning hours.  The forecast has been predicted- we might see some flakes on Wednesday or Thursday.  So now we sit and wait...


But I'm still never ready.  It's always a scramble to dig out the snow pants and boots on that first snow day, only to discover that they don't fit or we can't find one favorite glove and then that nasty note comes home from school saying, "please make sure your are dressed appropriately for Minnesota weather..."  Well, no shit Edina Public Schools.  I want to send my kid to school in shorts and tennis shoes with barely a sweatshirt to cover his arms when it's 22 degrees and snow begins to fall.  Transitions can be difficult for some...


That first snowfall of the season is fun, exciting, even beautiful, but I'm never thrilled to have that winter curtain drop announcing the inevitable shut-in.  I am not one of those to bundle up and go for a run around the lake (torture!) or snowshoe through the snowy drifts of some desolate park (peaceful, yes, but I gotta say, "boring!").  No thank you.  I prefer to sit by the fire with a nice glass of wine and wait for it all to melt...for like five months.   


I like the transition from one season to another, in fact when I moved to Northern California 16 years ago (wow that sounds like a long time ago) it was one of the nuances of the Midwest that I missed the most; not having that dramatic change of seasons to mark different places in time on the calendar, and I was happy to return to it when we moved back to Minnesota.  It's just what happens after that transition that I don't particularly care for- that insulating blanket of stark cold and endless snow.  But here we are again, preparing for the inevitable and just trying to enjoy the transition before it's passed.

Magic in the Field

Riverbend Farm- Delano, Minnesota

Last night we headed to Riverbend Farm in Delano for the Outstanding in the Field dinner and let me tell you, Mr. Jim Denevan, in signature straw cowboy hat and flip-flops, along with his traveling team of hospitable hosts/servers/haulers/stokers and sommeliers (there are seven of them that do everything) as well as co-host Scott Pampuch from Corner Table did not disappoint.  I posted a few months back when I secured the tickets and have seriously been counting the days on the calendar since.  Check out the post here as it explains a little more about the movable coast to coast feast that is Outstanding in the Field.  The young team arrived the night before in their 1962 vintage bus that is packed to the gills with books, laundry, blankets, pillows, socks, backpacks, you name it.  I thought they seemed like a contemporary version of Robert Mitchem's The Drifters- carefree young souls looking to explore the US (and Europe this fall) through it's farms, local growers, and good times; ultimately creating a magical, memory laden evening for those that are seated at their table.  I think there might also be a few other things happen' on that bus, but who I am to speculate...let's just say if I was a lot younger it looked like a fun way to see the country and beyond.

The storied vintage bus that takes the team from farm to farm

So I haven't been to Delano in a long time, at least not since a lifelong friend of mine used to be married to a horsey fellow out there, otherwise I really don't have any reason to drive 30 miles west of the cities unless I want to ride a horse or visit a farm.  My friend is no longer married to the horsey guy which means she certainly no longer lives in Delano, which means last night was the first time I have been there in oh, at least 15 years.  But I have to say I was surprised at how picturesque it was.  Soft, green pastures; row upon row of corn and wheat; pretty red barns dotting the fields.  Sounds cliche, but Minnesota farmland is pretty much what you imagine.  It was an absolutely glorious evening and the energy of the event unfolded just like the courses of beautiful food that hit the table.

The signature long, white clothed table 

It's always interesting when you sit down to a meal, whether at a dinner party, wedding, whatever, and you don't know the folks next to you.  I figured that anyone attending this dinner would be of the food/wine/restaurant/interesting-type-to-chat-with crowd and I wasn't far off.  We were seated next to a recently transplanted couple from Santa Cruz, California (the place founder Jim Denevan calls home) who have been here all of three days and are artists and musicians.  To my right were a darling young couple (and newly pregnant!!!) and his parents from Minneapolis who were charming, interesting, and loads of fun.  We quickly got acquainted and exchanged some dirty gossip about people we knew in common, while another young lady from Wayzata (also with three boys and all bearing Biblical names, I might add) chirped in with her white eyelet dress every now and then.  They were all great neighbors and we enjoyed the conversation, amazing food, and delicious wines together.

It is definitely true that a certain magic happens when perfect strangers bond over food and drink in the middle of an open field.  Throughout the meal there was a happy, satiated glow at that long white table in the wheat- both literally and figuratively.  As the sun began to set (and the bugs began to bite!) the path to the "parking lot" was lit with candles.  You could hear the laughter across the field of new found friends and feel the energy of a crowd that was not only well fed, but whose souls were generously nourished.

Goodbyes were said and hugs were sincerely exchanged, and off into the night we went.  There was a kinetic buzz that lingered over that farm and we have Jim Denevan and his team to thank for creating a memorable, delicious, magical, outstanding evening in the field. 

Me and Jim Denavan- founder of Outstanding in the Field

To learn more about Mr. Denevan, his art, and Outstanding in the Field, check out this video.

Relaxation and Appreciation

It's hot here and we are heading north to hopefully catch some cooler climes. Given the forecast it's not likely, but we will have fun giving it a shot.  

Our generous hostess (and there is none like her!) is prepping to host four Moms, twelve boys, two girls, one niece, one dog, and this doesn't even include 3/4 of her brood that are away at hockey camp.  Come Thursday she will welcome two Dads.  Friday morning will see her husband and an additional couple who has been out west whom we can't wait to see.  Saturday morning we head back to town for the U2 concert.  
Tired, yet?  
I promise you, we will be relaxing in spite of ourselves.

I don't know how she does it, but she does.  Our lovely hostess and her high school sweetheart Hubby do it together and their family retreat represents hospitality, love, warmth, friendship, memories and wide open arms.  The beds are fluffy, welcoming and cozy; the fire constantly roaring; the music blaring; beer flowing; and the conversation, laughter, and love never ending. 
 In the morning the kids are fishing, coffee is brewing, the Bloody Mary's are enticing and the views are constantly spectacular.  
It is the feeling of treasured family, cherished friends, and truly wonderful memories. 

Thank You!!!
XXXOOO

Trying to Get About Town and Metal Chickens

So I am thinking of changing the name of this blog because truth is, I don't really get out all that much.  For real.  You may think I do, but actually I don't.  And when I do get out, it is almost never by myself, which is exactly why I flew the coop this morning and headed down to the Lyndale Farmer's Market to check it out and grab a few things for dinner with some friends and their kids tonight.  So here's where this is going- I got lost.  So embarrassing.  All of a sudden I am driving downtown and find myself fighting with my own backseat driver self about which exit to take and before you know it I am on the West Bank of the U of M campus.  True, and very sad.

Luckily I like to be by myself and quite enjoy my own company, and truthfully during summertime, I miss me.  Other than being just slightly embarrassed in front of myself for my navigational error this morning, it was OK.  Sometimes I think it would be pretty funny to follow me when I'm out by myself because I do stuff that I don't normally do when I am with other people, and this is what scares the crap out of Mr. C.  And for good reason, I suppose.  He actually gets nervous when I head out into the world unchaperoned, for fear I will, God forbid, get lost.  Or back my car into something- check.  Or perhaps get a speeding ticket- check.  Possibly pull a u-turn in the middle of the road illegally.  Did that- this morning.  

Don't get me wrong, Mr. C is not possessive or controlling or anything of the sort, but he seriously thinks I am going to do some Bozo move when he's not around, and sadly, he's correct and today was no exception.  Here's the way it went down- I missed the farmers market exit, arguing with myself about the turn all while playing the music super loud and signing "Girl Got Back" by Sir-Mix-Alot (no joke it was actually on the radio today!) while driving under an overpass and having a sizable amount of rainwater runoff dump on my head through the sunroof.  I must be pretty funny out there in the world all on own.

I really don't know how to get anywhere because I really never drive (for a lot of different reasons, umm, like parking tickets and illegal u-turns) so when I do try to go somewhere alone, I end up going in circles and normally I would be totally pissed at myself but today it was OK.  I got to see the new inflated top on the Metrodome.  Very impressive.  I saw a very frightening billboard about bed bugs right smack in the middle of downtown- very weird.  I thoroughly enjoyed the shiny new parking meters where you have to remember the number of the spot where you parked and then go feed the ultra slick credit card meter- of course I didn't have any quarters on me so I would have gotten a ticket.  Very grateful.  And I must say, I was totally laughing with myself.  Not sure if it was leftover from last night- we went to Masu with some friends and it was rockin' and so were we in our 1980's stretch limo that the car company sent for us.  I don't know why but today the whole thing was crackin' me up. 

And when I finally reached the farmers market I saw this.

And this...

which is weird because my week seems like it has been all about over sized chickens. 

 Why, you ask?

  Because a friend sent me this and we have been hysterical about it all week.  You must read it.  You will pee your pants.  For sure.

And then I get this texted to me.

I am beginning to feel a little paranoid- like there is some sort of metal chicken conspiracy going on.  I think we need to get Jesse Ventura on this one. 

Anyway, it is one of my goals to improve my directional capabilities (and ok, my driving performance all together before my very nice insurance agent dumps my ass.  We actually got a letter on the matter.) and when I have more time on my hands this fall I plan to get reacquainted with greater Minneapolis (and maybe even St. Paul!) and step out of my small suburban bubble. 
I just hope Mr. C let's me go.
(that's a joke.)

Brett Dennen

Brett Dennen- one seriously happy folk/pop man

Think Dave Matthews, a little Ziggy Marley, a funky note of Stevie Wonder, a lot Jack Johnson, a splash of Jason Mraz and a hint of The Dead.  If you throw it all together you might come up with something that resembles Brett Dennen. 
Sort of. 
 If you don't already know Brett Dennen, you will soon enough.  His hauntingly falsetto, slightly grainy, totally unique sound and swagger rocked the tiny (and gorgeous) Pantages Theater in Minneapolis Sunday night.  He appeared out of nowhere with his signature bare feet, oversize glasses and bandana wrapped around his red mane channeling something that reminded
Mr C of Shaggy from Scooby Doo.  His oddball movements that include a knock kneed scarecrow-ish type dance were at first a little weird, kinda like, is he really trying to dance like such a dork on purpose?? but ended up charming everyone.  He played a few tunes off his new album  "Loverboy" before he walked to the edge of the stage and explained that he wasn't used to playing in such nice places, that he's really a "dirt bar" type of performer and would we all please join him in a little dancing.  It was totally endearing and the crowd eagerly responded by rushing the stage and rewarding Brett with lots of hip swaying, clapping, and all out reveling in his infectious energy.

It's rare when you get to see what seems like a true glimpse of one's personality while they are performing on stage.  Brett (he is sooo not a Mr. Dennen, and I think if I was ever fortunate enough to meet him in person he would want me to call him Brett) has a way about him up there in front of an audience that is extremely authentic, like he is doing exactly what he was meant to do with his life, and his songs reflect that. He doesn't say a whole lot when he's on stage, but his gestures, smirks, and exchanges with his fellow band mates make him seem completely sweet, humble, and even approachable, like he's there just to jam it up with a few hundred of his closest friends.  At one point he unplugged his guitar, walked once again to the edge of the stage and just crooned out into the completely captivated theater.  His voice has such a raw, completely unique sound and range that I found myself holding my breath as he shared this intimate moment with his audience.  Pretty cool.

He amped it back up again to close with a great variation of "Blessed" (check out this version from Red Rocks a few years ago- very similar to how he performed it at The Pantages) sending every person in that theater off into the night with a total tingle and good vibes. I have loved his voice since the first moment I heard it- now I am completely entranced with the sensitive, good time folk/pop man that is Brett Dennen.

Or is it Shaggy?

An Abundance of Crumbs



My garden steps

In the words of one of my favorite bloggers, Peevish Mama, I apologize for giving you crumbs lately.  After the longest feeling winter on record, spring has FINALLY sprung which means writing gives way to soccer and baseball games, gardening, backyard socializing, BBQing, and just plain old mainlining fresh air after being cooped up inside for the better part of six months.  Ahhh...I love the smell of lilacs; the lush, green canopy of trees that envelops our street and the surrounding neighborhoods; and the raging nearby creek our boys love to fish.  All these sights, sounds, and smells of spring and summer are so pronounced here in the Midwest that we sometimes forget to just sit and contemplate their beauty...we often move at record pace through this season so as not to miss a thing that might take place.  I encourage you to savor it all-  listen to the kids playing outside, the birds chirping, feel the warmth- soak it in, when of course you are not driving laps around town to various playdates, baseball practices, swim team meets, BBQ's, block parties....

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First trip to Bachman's



Pots ready to be filled

 Since I have not been able to sit at my computer and write very much these days, it means my brain is swelling like Minnehaha with thoughts, ideas, and plans about a gazillion different things.  I have a load of post topics that are just waiting to come out so be patient with me in these busy months.  I will try to at least give you pictures- words might be skimpy- but this handy little iPhone Mr. C picked up for me has quite the camera (Hipstamatic rules- ya gotta get it) so stay tuned, don't abandon me.  I will do my very best to give you an abundance of crumbs throughout this glorious time of year.

The first flowers of the season

Bootlegs, Baby!

It might be cloudy, a little chilly, with a weekend forecast filled with rain, but today is

 THE DAY. 

Today is the beginning of 

 "THE SEASON". 

 It's here- we've waited so long, said our prayers, kept our white pants under wraps and our gin and tonics hidden, but today we can legitimately, legally imbibe in summer cocktails.  Finally, no more stink eye from the snooty bartender when you attempt to order a Bootleg on a suspiciously sunny spring day just a wee bit shy of the last weekend in May.

"Not until Memorial Day, Ma'am." 

Damn.

Well, it's finally arrived and I am salivating, longing, dying for a minty, not too sweet, slightly zippy

BOOTLEG,

 thank you very much. 

 Chances are, if you reside in any state outside of the one with 10,000 Lakes you might not have a clue as to what I am talking about, and for that I am truly sorry.  The Bootleg is a legendary, classic, traditional, almost mythical cocktail.  It's origin is sketchy (Country Clubs seem to be the guilty party on this one), it's recipe slightly varied and often top secret.  It can be mixed with gin or vodka, it's mint can be muddled or whole, and the best ones float somewhere in the space between a julep and mojito.  It's a brilliant mixture and for three solid months you can confidently sidle up to any (well, almost any) well respected watering hole and get yourself one for the asking. 

The timer starts...NOW!

CHEERS!

Hipstamatic Sunshine

Cooper's Pre-School Paper Sun- taken using iPhone Hipstamatic App

Well, there's nothing like a little tornado siren to get the party started, right?  Not.  What a weird week.  I know you all are tired of me barking about the weather here, but it's pretty bizarre.  We went from chillin' with the furnace less then a week ago to full on thigh sweating humidity on Tuesday.  I was secretly begging for the AC but before I could even voice my desires Mr. C says over his shoulder on the way out the door,

"Don't even think about turning on the air conditioner today.  We've waited seven months to feel 60 degrees, please don't ruin it for me." 

 Whatever, he knows me too well. 

 By that evening the cold air mixed it up with the hot, heavy front that rolled in and Voila! we heard the first real sirens of the season. Mr C rounded up the ladies in the 'hood whose hubbies were traveling and we retreated to the basement, wine in hand, to watch the crazy green clouds pelt us with enormous hail but eventually call our bluff on the twister. 

Before ya knew it, the party was over.

Now it's the weekend and the furnace is back in action.  Tomorrow promises a touch of warmth (60 degrees!!), some wind, maybe a little hope for planting some flowers, but for now I think I will just enjoy Cooper's tissue paper sun he made at school- I know I can depend on that to keep my day bright.

Good Morning, Sunshine!

No, not quite. 

 How about good morning snow, and gray, and bare trees and no flowers and WINDCHILL! 

Okay people, I know I praise the Lord Alleluia when it comes to Minnesota, but this is ridiculous, insane, downright wrong, and I want my money back and all the nice things I have said about this place.  I am breaking up with Minnesota and there better be a serious apology along with some sort of spectacular compensation for this torturous suffering we are all being subjected to.  I wouldn't be surprised if after a few more days of this shit the damn state sees a mass exodus to anywhere USA that might be a few degrees warmer that bans down vests and allows flip-flops out of the closet.  Iowa perhaps.  South Dakota is lookin' pretty swell.  Both can brag that they have hit 70 degrees in the year 2011, but Minnesota?  What does she have to say for herself??!!  The pool is supposed to open in a matter of weeks and we had snowflakes this morning on the way to school.  When my baby was born four years ago this week it was sunny, glorious, green, and hot.  Yeah, hot. 

Steaming.

I am not demanding steamy days, but a touch of warm air and a tiny glimpse of that thing known as the sun would seriously rock my world right about now.  I am ready to shovel the pine needles out of my window boxes and replace them with pretty blooms.  I am excited to head back to Bachman's after nine months to fill in my garden that is too spooked to sprout.  I know we are hardy stock up here in these parts, but seriously, I can't take it anymore.  They say that a long, snowy winter typically gives way to a cooler spring and summer due to all the excess moisture in the ground.  With all the snow we got this winter I am feeling like we might not hit 65 degrees until August, and we all know that just won't do.  Mr C has lost his mojo with the BBQ and G&T's just don't taste the same when your teeth are chattering against the ice cubes.  My heat is still on and I am planning spring break for next year.

Pathetic.  Pathetic.

P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C.

Outstanding in the Field

I am jumping up and down because we got tickets to Jim Denevan's coast to coast moveable feast, known as Outstanding in the Field. Whatever does that mean, you ask? It means we scored two spots at one of Mr. Denevan's long, winding tables that are literally set up in the middle of the field to "honor the people whose good work brings nourishment to the table" and "to reconnect diners to the land and the origins of their food". Through local dedicated chefs and farmers, Outstanding in the Field treats it's guests to a culinary experience that is literally a "restaurant without walls". On July 26th in Minnesota, Outstanding in the Field has paired up once again with celebrated chef Scott Pampuch of Corner Table and the dinner will take place at Riverbend Farm in Delano. Go here to purchase tickets for an incredible farm to table event.

(Every event these guys do across the country, sells out. Fast. Buy your tickets today!)

Chef, artist, author, and culinary innovator, Jim Denevan

one of the long dining tables at an Outstanding in the Field dinner

Denevan is also an artist- his only tools being sticks, hands, or shovels as his only medium is sand, earth, or snow

nearly finished for the tide to wash it away...