Unlike last year, Mr. G had a specific request for this year's birthday treat: He wanted a cherry pie. Having never made a cherry pie before, I went straight to my America's Test Kitchen cookbooks to find the best recipe.
The ATK folks did not disappoint. Per their recommendation, I hunted up some jars of Trader Joe's Morello cherries, which apparently make the tastiest filling (and they certainly look more lovely than the canned cherries I've bought at the supermarket). I did not end up having the time to make the crust from scratch, but ATK says that refrigerated Pillsbury pie dough is almost as good as homemade (and I know Mr. G loves it, anyway). For the sake of time, I also decided to forego the traditional lattice for the full top crust (it's not as pretty, but having more crust can't be a bad thing!).
Here is the absolutely DELICIOUS end result, which we ate for Mr. G's birthday breakfast today (warmed up and topped with a generous scoop of vanilla frozen custard, of course!):
Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I woke up early this morning and the bed was shaking. I thought that maybe Pepper was taking a very vigorous bath (hee), but she wasn't even on the bed. And Mr. G was laying there like a log. I figured I must still be dreaming, so I went back to sleep. And then 20 minutes later we woke up to the news that we'd had a moderate (5.2-magnitude) earthquake!
When I was living in Peru, I remember waking up in the middle of the night and going out to the dining room, where all the plates were shaking and the room was tilting side to side. I have no idea what the magnitude was, but it was pretty scary for a little kid. I know that there were other earthquakes during the years we lived there, but that's the one I remember.
You'd think that, having experienced a terremoto before, I would have recognized what the bed-shaking meant. But we just don't get earthquakes around here! And I thought animals were supposed to warn you about this kind of thing ... Pepper, you failed!
Today I cohosted a baby shower for a friend who is adopting a little boy from Ethiopia. Although all baby showers are joyful occasions, this one was even more special because my friend and her husband have waited such a long time to be parents. Their journey inspired me to create this:
I experimented with using fringe (rather than ribbon) and shredded paper (to cover the tops of the diapers), and I was pretty pleased with the result. Ingredients were mostly purchased from her registry and included 42 diapers, 8 washcloths, 4 receiving blankets, 3 bottles, 2 combs, a brush, baby lip balm, body wash, and lotion.
I had such a good time putting this cake together, but the best part was seeing my friend's reaction to the surprise on top: a miniature baby (hand sculpted by Nancy), nestled in a silk peony and wearing a diaper fastened with beads in the colors of the Ethiopian flag. Here's a close-up:
For five months, I've been plagued with unbearably itchy eyes. I went to the doctor as soon as they started itching because I was worried that I had pink eye (or, worse, one of those scary fungal infections that they say you can get from contact solution). He assured me that my eyes were fine and I just needed some eye drops, but those didn't help at all.
So, since my eyes were still driving me CRAZY, I finally decided to go back (all these months later) and demand an allergy test. His office just called me with the results. Apparently I had a high reaction to only one thing: cats!
But there's no way I'm giving up Pepper. For this face, I'll gladly become a slave to allergy meds:
Guess what! Today Mr. G surprised me with tickets to see Eric Clapton! So now I have two shows to look forward to this year: Clapton in May and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers in July (that was Mr. G's Valentine's Day gift to me). Isn't he the best?? I wanted to see Bob Dylan when he was in town last summer, so these concerts will kind of make up for missing that one.
I'm also still keeping my fingers crossed for a Paul McCartney or Ringo Starr tour. I'd be willing to travel anywhere in the country to see them—and then we could add another entry (or two) to our list of rock 'n' roll trips. So far we've been to Cleveland (in 2001) to see a John Lennon exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; to Las Vegas (in 2002) to see Paul McCartney play the MGM Grand; to Memphis (in 2005) to see Graceland, Sun Studio, and the Gibson Guitar Factory; and again to Vegas (in 2007) to see Beatles LOVE.
We've also thought about driving to St. Louis sometime to see Chuck Berry perform at Blueberry Hill. The guy will turn 88 this year and he's still rocking the house once a month. I just hope we don't put off that trip until it's too late ...
I've managed to stay well this entire winter, but this morning I woke up with a fever blister.
Granted, being sick isn't the only thing that brings on these annoying blisters, which is exactly why I don't call them "cold sores." They can also pop up when I don't get enough sleep, during times of stress, after being exposed to the sun, and upon experiencing any sort of trauma to the lip area. But since (a) I've been sleeping better lately (thanks, in part, to my braids), (b) we're in the dead of winter, and (c) no one has punched me in the mouth recently, I can only assume one thing: My streak of good health must be coming to an end.
It's really quite amazing how just one little fever blister can make you feel so completely wiped out. Thank goodness for Abreva, which usually clears up my blisters within a couple of days. Before this miracle cream came along, I had to rely on Famvir, a prescription pill for genital herpes (as you can imagine, it was a little embarrassing to have to explain to people that I wasn't taking it for that reason). Before I had Famvir, though, the blisters (and the scabs they left in their wake) would just run rampant on my lips and the surrounding skin—not pretty! So I guess things aren't as bad as they could be.
Mr. G might disagree, though: Because fever blisters are so contagious, I must withhold all smooches until my lips are healed. Sad!
One of the little-known perils of having long hair: It may try to strangle you while you sleep. Yes, folks, in the last few weeks, I've started waking up in the middle of the night with my hair hopelessly tangled around my neck. Not the most soothing feeling!
Last night, tired of waking up feeling suffocated, I decided it was time to do something about this problem. Although I'm not very good at braiding, I loosely plaited my hair into two (surprisingly long) pigtails, à la Melissa Gilbert on Little House on the Prairie. Today, I am happy to report that sleeping in braids is quite comfortable—much more so than wearing a sweaty hair-scarf to bed! (Although I'm not sure how Mr. G feels about my new, Laura Ingalls look ...)
In related news, this month marks two years since I started letting my hair grow out to donate (with regular trims to ward off split ends, of course). I still can't decide when to make the Big Cut, though. The practical part of me wants to chop it off now and go back to my cute, shorter hair, but the competitive part of me wants to see just how long I can stand to let it grow. Another year? Two years? Stay tuned!
Cats are self-sufficient creatures who don't need much. But having the following items around the house sure does make it easier for humans to coexist with them!
DRINKWELL PET FOUNTAIN
When Pepper was still a kitten, I noticed that she did not drink very much from her water bowl. But as soon as she discovered the faucets, we could not turn one on without her trying to drink from it! I thought it was cute, but Mr. G was grossed out ... and I began to worry that she was not getting enough water. Remembering that our vet had recommended getting a pet fountain, we decided to give the Drinkwell a try. Now Pepper gets plenty to drink (avoiding the health problems that can result from being dehydrated), and the fountain even provides entertainment for her: She has a grand old time preying on the bubbles that the water makes as the stream hits the pool.
I thought it might be a pain to clean, but all the parts (except the motor) are dishwasher safe. The only annoying thing is that, since we have hard water, sometimes the motor won't turn back on when I reassemble the fountain. The first time this happened, I called Drinkwell, and they told me to clean the motor with vinegar. This works pretty well, especially if you are faithful about cleaning the fountain once a week (that does not always happen at our house). However, over the course of two years, the water stream has gotten progressively weaker, and we've recently decided to purchase a new fountain to have on hand when the old one finally croaks.
CLEVERCAT LITTER BOX
Because I had only owned indoor/outdoor cats before, I'd never had a litter box in the house; Mr. G had never even owned a cat before. So when we first got Pepper, we just bought one of those small litter trays with no cover for her to use until she got big enough to climb into a regular litter box.
While we were waiting for her to grow, I researched litter boxes and found many consumer complaints about how a cat could "miss" and pee over the edge of the box. Or if you had a box with a lid, the cat could spray the side of the lid. Because I wanted as little mess as possible, I was elated to find the Clevercat. This ingenious contraption looks like a trash bin with a flat lid that has a hole in it. Pepper just jumps up, climbs in, and then jumps out when she's done. She has plenty of room in there to turn around and cover things up ... and she has plenty of privacy.
Clevercat also sells custom-fit liners for the box, which ensure that the only surface not covered by a liner is the lid (and this has no chance of getting pee on it). If your cat is declawed, the liners are great because then you can just toss out the used litter with the liner, and you never have to wash out the box (cats with claws tend to rip holes in the liner, which defeats the purpose of using the liner).
ARM & HAMMER LITTER
Again, since neither of us had owned a litter box before, we didn't know what type of litter was best. We tried eco-friendly litter made from corn cobs or recycled newpaper, but they didn't do the job. We settled on clumping litter, but we were bothered by the "perfumes" they used to cover up the smell of cat waste. Sometimes, the perfume smelled worse than the stuff it was supposed to cover up! I was using Neutra-Air plug-ins to neutralize the odor, but then Neutra-Air went off the market. I bought a Febreze air filter, and that helped, but I didn't want to have it turned on around the clock.
Fortunately, I mentioned the issue to my brother and his girlfriend, and they suggested that we try Arm & Hammer clumping litter. The combination of cat litter and odor-absorbing baking soda is AMAZING. We buy the fragrance-free kind, and you can't even tell there's a litter box in the room unless Pepper has just used it. It's so nice to know that your house doesn't smell like old cat pee.
LITTER LOCKER
You know how no one wants dirty diapers sitting around in the trash can? Well, the same goes for the little clumps that have been scooped out of the litter box. Because we didn't want to have to take little baggies into the garage each time we scooped, we tried to get away with putting the baggies into a trash can that we kept in a cabinet under our sink. By the end of the week, however, the air in that cabinet was TOXIC.
Enter the Litter Locker. It's like a Diaper Genie for cat litter! And it may work even better than a DG ... we empty it once a week and never have an odor problem. We keep the Litter Locker right next to the Clevercat, so scooping is a relatively non-messy, definitely non-smelly cinch.
KITTY NESTS
We noticed a few specific spots in the house where Pepper liked to hang out, so we decided to find some beds to put there in order to protect the carpet. We hit the jackpot with these kitty nests made by Companion Road. They have a faux-suede exterior and are lined with faux lambskin (Pepper is a fleece addict, so this is perfect). Their circular shape is just the right size for a curled-up kitty to snuggle up in.
The best part about these beds, though, are their high sides (about 7 inches), which allow Pepper to feel protected and secure while she sleeps. And when she's feeling playful, the beds double as forts and hiding places for her. We own two and have just ordered a third!
HONORABLE MENTION
I must give shout-out to the Comfort Zone plug-ins. We wouldn't have survived the past two years without the calming pheremones that turned my mean kitty into a less-mean kitty. Thankfully, it seems that Pepper has finally started to trust us enough to shed her psycho persona, and in the past few weeks I believe we've successfully weaned her off of the feel-good vapors. Keep your fingers crossed for us!
Last night on my way home from belly dance class, I took a small detour to pick up a Valentine for Mr. G. Having waited so long to begin looking for one, I fully expected to find verrrry slim pickings.
While perusing the selection, I happened to glance around and notice that I was the lone woman in a crowd of very nervous-looking men, all of whom looked nearly paralyzed by the pressure to find just the right card at the eleventh hour. "I am such a loser," I thought. "I am here with all the last-minute husbands and boyfriends!"
In a rush to get myself out of this awkward situation, I proceeded to scan card after card, in quick succession. "You're my hero," read one. Um, no. I mean, I admire many things about Mr. G, but I wouldn't call him my HERO. "I'm on fire for you," read another. Well, I like Mr. G an awful lot, but I have to admit that "on fire" seems like a bit of an exaggeration after nearly 8 years of marriage. "I'd do anything for you." Anything? Nope ... I can think of a few things that I definitely wouldn't do. And then there were the cards with the sappy poems that went on for pages (pages! in a card!).
I was just about ready to give up when I struck gold in the form of a Valentine with black flocking and red lettering. The front of this card read, "An important message for my husband: I love you ..." Encouraged by this simple (yet accurate) start, I opened up the card to see the rest of the sentiment: "... despite what my mood swings may indicate." HA! Perfect!
I didn't need to see one more card; I spun on my heel and just about danced to the register. I mean, how often do you find such an honest Valentine? I felt so lucky to have found the perfect card ... and I was reminded all over again how truly lucky I am to have found Mr. G.
I rarely wear lipstick. It's not because I have anything against it, or because I think my lips are luscious enough without it. It's because putting anything on my lips dries them out so badly that I end up chewing it off before I even leave the house.
For as long as I've lived in the States, in fact, I have inexplicably endured peeling, raw, often painful, sometimes bloody lips. And every remedy I've tried (chapstick, the liquidy contents of vitamin E pills, expensive lip balms from department store makeup counters, regular lip gloss, and almost anything else you can imagine) has only made the problem WORSE.
But all that changed last Christmas, when my mom (bless her) discovered Blistex Gentle Sense and put a tube of it in my stocking. Colorless, odorless, and flavorless, it claims to moisturize your lips without irritating them. After using it regularly for a month, I am happy to report that it works: My lips are smooth—and they no longer hurt!
This product is a godsend for me, and I can only pray that it never goes off the market. Now that my lips are healed, we'll see if I can start sporting something other than a nude lip ...
