Cotillion Spring Ball

It sure didn't fee like spring, but we had to make it look good. Cotillion is a once a month event that the Bright-eyed boy complains about but I think he secretly has a good time. The spring ball is the most formal event of the cotillion year, and like last year (here) we opted for a tuxedo over buying him a suit that he'll grow out of by next week. I don't know if you can tell by looking at last year's pictures or not, but he's grown more than six inches since then.

Turns out he's a pretty good dancer! I'm the one having to look at our feet.


He's thrilled that I have to look up at him. He's living for the day that he's taller than his brother. Won't be long at this rate.

I'm very proud of him. And I'm liking this dress, too. Who knew it would match the boutonnieres? Perfect.

Last stop? The Lost Dog to get the boy a chocolate malt and mom and dad a much deserved beer. Needless to say, we were the best dressed folks in the place.

Now back to the taxes. Ugh.

It's All Good

Sadly no photos, but the week is going well. Funny, how I know I get along with anybody and everybody, but "getting to know" people takes some time. You have to finesse these things to a certain extent. Inquire, but not pry. Share, but not intrude. Then, sometimes suddenly, you have a connection! Cooking! or, Gardening!, or Weight Loss!. Sometimes it's more tenuous. . . you discover a school in common with your kids, or in a small-world kind of way, the person who is training you graduated three years ago from the same school where your oldest is attending, and from the same degree program. . . holy smokes! Too funny.

Good people, and I look forward to getting to know them better, one-on-one, face-to-face, not sifting to find the common thread.

Big Week Ahead!

Friday was my last day at the high school! The new job starts Tuesday, and I confess to being both excited and nervous. Back to Non-Profit World. Looks to be a fairly casual office, but it's not going to be high school casual. Must get some shopping in this weekend.

I'm really having to get my head around having some easy meals on hand for my longer days. Just back from the grocery store. I'd browsed my recipes and bought what I need to make five or six meals. The check out guy says, "Lots of groceries today! Looks like enough for a month!" He looked to be a starving college kid. WF had whole chickens on sale. They're smallish, so I bought two; I'll roast them both today so we'll have one for dinner tonight and one that I can use for derivative recipes later in the week. Doesn't this soup sound good? It's from a group of recipes in my Real Simple for using cooked rotisserie chicken as a short cut.

Greek lemon soup with chicken

In a large saucepan, bring 6 cups chicken broth to a boil. Add 1/3 cup orzo and boil until tender, 8 to 9 minutes. In a bowl, beat 6 egg yolks; slowly whisk in 1 cup of the hot broth. Add the egg mixture to the saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring, until thickened, 5 to 7 minutes. Add 1 1/2 cups shredded rotisserie chicken and 1/4 cup lemon juice; season with pepper.

There are about a dozen others and most sound good. I'll make the venison recipe Russ's sister gave me tomorrow as it has to cook for hours. The other recipes for the week are very simple. Shrimp Fra Diavolo, white bean soup with andouille sausage and collards, and I have a meatloaf in the freezer.

Anyway, I'm still procrastinating on the paperwork I need to do. F-ing taxes. It's so beautiful outside! I think I'll pull my garden gloves on and trim the roses.

Dreaming in Black and White

The full moon shot a beam to my eye
this morning in the earliest hours
through the branches and wind and
for a moment I dreamed
in black and white.

Well, that sucks. Or maybe not, but it definitely isn't the same as what was in my head when I woke up yesterday morning. I should have written it down right away. The moon was amazingly huge and full, and I had not closed the shutters. The wind was howling too. An amazing night.

Spring Feeding

Jan and I determined that it was time to feed the bees a bit. She'd made about a gallon of sugar water and we divided it between two ziplock bags. We popped the top of the first hive. Could definitely see capped honey, but not a lot of bees. I thought that was a good sign, that it meant there was still enough honey in the lower supers, but Jan seemed less optimistic. We put down a patty of pollen, then one bag of sugar water. Jan put some seepage holes in the bag, but the bag was too full for the feeder box to sit down properly. A good squish seemed to do the trick, but then, oh jeez, the syrup is flowing out the entrance. All Jan and I could do was hope nobody drowned in the great syrup flood of 2011. A little more finesse for the second hive, though there was still minor flooding.

Honestly, I kinda thought they'd be fine, but, well, I haven't taken the classes so I'm following the boss. There's been quite a bit of activity on the warmer days, so I take heart that the hives are surviving. It will be great to see pollen gathering. Won't be too long now!

Weak in the Knees

I had an amazing haircut experience this past weekend. Bright-eyed boy and I both needed a haircut, but since we hadn't planned ahead, we landed at the local Hair Cuttery. You definitely take your chances, at least at this location, but on the 2011 austerity plan, I didn't want to pay $60 for my regular stylist. Anyway, I get the requisite shampoo and conditioner, nothing special there, but once she starts combing my hair, and separating my scalp into manageable quadrants, there's something about her touch that just started to hypnotize me. I closed my eyes and I think my mouth was hanging open. She was slow and methodical, but the little tugs as she separated a bit to snip, the whisper of the scissors, then moving on to the next little piece to trim. . . it all felt so good, it made me go all weak in the joints. It felt so good I didn't want it to end, so I uncharacteristically let her blow dry. I have curly hair and I don't fuss with it much and I NEVER blow it dry. Generally I don't want it blown dry when I get it cut because I need it to look good the way *I* style it, which is wash, towel dry, comb out, a little anti-frizz product, and call it done.

Too bad it turned out to be the worst cut ever, at least with it blow dried all poufy and old-lady-ish. It's better now that I'm au naturel. The boy hated his cut too, but I think his looks good.

A Great Gift

I asked Santa for an espresso maker, and man o man did he come through. This baby is the BOMB. Steam frother, pressure gauge, cup rack on top. . . and it's this cool retro red. Almost matches my retro kitchen counter. Product details here.

What was your favorite Christmas gift?