Too legit to quit

We did it...October 20 is now our official wedding anniversary. We are so cray!

a space of her own

I finally got an easel and can hardly believe how MARVELOUS it is to have a dedicated workspace. Bring on the creativity!

Bo knows...

Mother's little helper

Gifts of Summer

Nothing beats fresh vegetables. Lady peas so tiny and deep dark blackberries. Baby eggplant and fluorescent yellow zucchini. These were from a trip to the Ag center with Jim and his mom - wanna come over for supper?

You choke my bad days...I'll choke yours...

Worm Tartare

I was running today and I saw this robin rolling a worm around on the scorching hot concrete. I'm thinking he was heating up his lunch - I know I prefer my worms medium rare.

Baby's song

Bodhi's finally here!

And I am in love. Bodhi was born May 15. I've been having "Aunt Fantasies" about art projects, catching fireflies and maybe introducing him to Shirley up at the Lamplighter - just kiddin' Cin!

He drove his Chevy to the levee...

Jim bought a shiny new Chevy yesterday - we have big plans for the full moon drive-in tonight in the new red truck - how all-American can you get?

Double Elvis

Double your Elvis...double your fun! Postcard I drew for a postcard exchange.

The bumpkin gourmet cooks poke salet

You know times are tight when you'll eat weeds growing in your backyard. We had a big ole stalk of pokeweed growing by the compost pile and I cooked it up for lunch. Pokeweed is supposed to be poisonous if you don't double boil it before cooking - better safe than sorry I suppose. Just pick it - rinse it and chop it...I even cooked some of the baby stems.



Boil in water for a minute or two - drain and boil again in fresh water. I sauteed the drained pokeweed in olive oil with some shallot I crisped up - a shot of Bragg's (or tamari) a squeeze of lemon and voila - lunch! The taste is beyond divine - very delicate, almost buttery in flavor much like a cross between spinach and asparagus.

Looks like I should've triple boiled my poke salet - poor Jim.

Haircut 100

I'm not sure if Rosie liks the "Mange" style haircut I just gave her but she looks 5 pounds lighter - wonder if it would work for me?

Swanson Art

My new painting is a delicious TV Dinner. I am thinking I might try my hand at the salisbury steak next or maybe a Patio Mexican dinner...pop the frozen block into the oven and an hour later...a steaming aluminum tray of bland satisfaction.

The meaning of life...according to David Byrne.

N.A.S.A. "The People Tree" (feat. David Byrne, Chali 2na, Gift Of Gab, & Z-Trip)

Rosie's Cleanliness Tip #1

Buy a couch the same color as the dog.

Mama Long Legs and The Memphis Dogwoods

Spring...am I right?

Beer Art

Yes, I drank every one of the beers that came with these bottlecaps. This is the first of many tacky bottle cap paintings to come. My barn is beginning to rot so I'm hoping to completely cover it with sturdy artworks. Come on over and bring a six pack - no cans, please!

Betty Butterfireld is preachin' to the choir!

French Bread Sundays

Holy crow - I actually made bread from scratch. The "yeast activation" step is what used to throw me but baby, it was easy! Only four ingredients and believe me when I tell you the fresh baked smell coming out of my oven was divine. Pass the butter!!

Yeasty goodness:

I Pod Freakout

I have listened to this song about a gazillion times...please somebody stop me.

Will-o'-the-wisp

A mysterious light associated with spirits, found in various folklore tales. Soft and illusive light with no determinable source

The will-o'-the-wisp refers to the ghostly lights sometimes seen at night or twilight — often over bogs. It looks like a flickering lamp, and is sometimes said to recede if approached.

This might have to be the subject of a new painting...hmm.

Dude, I am totally blogging.

I’ve never sent a text message but by God I can blog with the best of ’em.

Spring has sprung in Memphis. Here's the lenten rose in my garden:



And, come on, don't my veggies and dip look green? Milner’s Oscar party here I come.



Rosie’s nose knows.