Love in the Time of Baseball

Though you might not guess it from my Pink Frenchie exterior, I LOVE baseball. I love that the season lasts from Easter to Halloween. I LOVE listening to baseball radio. I love talking ERAs and RBIs and OBPs.

Design Inspiration from Nature

Thanks to a faithful reader for reminding me about the loveliness of blooming Jacaranda trees. In Southern California, these purpley flowering trees are a botanic harbinger of summer. They line so many streets in our neighborhood that the skies appear to have produced lavender snow. Will someone please build me a Jacaranda flower snowman with a tulip nose and poppy eyes and a celosia mouth?

Sugar & Spice & Everything Nice

The current issue of Saveur magazine is entirely devoted to markets. When I set foot in a new city, I usually head for the local food market first (don't tell my art historian buddies that cathedrals and museums are sometimes second or, gasp, even third on my list of sites to visit).

Markets offer the unique opportunity to mix with the natives, to sample the food they actually eat (not some watered down tourist muck), to see glorious displays of produce and meats, to be inspired and to enjoy the purest of culinary pleasures.

The Tart Tongue of Tony B.

I not so secretly wish I had a little more Tony Bourdain in me. In a world of fake folks, Tony is among a rare few television personalities who says what he thinks (with or without the assistance of the local beverage of choice).

Top of Your Queue: A Movie Review

I am catching up on the chick movies in my dvd queue and finally got to my disc of It's Complicated. Most anything that Nancy Meyer's touches turns to cinematic gold (Something's Gotta Give, The Holiday, The Parent Trap--- a.k.a. before Lohan went cracko, Father of the Bride); and, I knew from the initial credits that I would find equal satisfaction in her latest flick with Meryl, Alec, and Steve (I like to think of them as my friends, so I refer to them in the first person).

Prosecco: For the Everyday Celebration

Americans save sparkling wine for special occasions far too often. Bring out the Champagne at Christmas or the Blanc de Noirs for a graduation or Cava to celebrate a promotion. I believe in popping out the sparklers for all the little everyday achievements!

Salut--- I just folded all seven loads of laundry in under two hours!

Cin, cin--- we're not having spaghetti for the fifth night in a row!

Bottoms-up--- we sat through an entire Ken Burns documentary!

Tapas Time

In response to a special request from a reader, I wanted to take an afternoon break and talk tapas. As the days grow warmer and the nights grow longer, tapas are the perfect mid-evening patio snack.

A Still Life from My Real Life

On the weekends, I often indulge in a little midday snacklet in the form of cheese (pictured here is the herb and garlic Boursin--yum!). A fresh crusty baguette and some Spanish olives compliment the ensemble. And du vin blanc never hurts....

Cheers, mes amis!

Flowers for Friday

Today's flowers are not trapped in a vase or contained in a bundle or stashed in a grocery store cooler. Rather, they are out in the California soil, soaking up the sunshine.

A Summery Weekend Wish

May your weekend be filled with all kinds of wonderful: Images borrowed from WeHeartIt.

Coffee Table Chic

I perpetually rearrange my coffee table to reflect my current taste. Sometimes the table is quite minimal with three sleek silver candlesticks. Other weeks I'll have a large bowl of seashells out.

Up, up and away

Ever since I watched Up, I have dreamed of tying balloons to a little house and going aloft with all of my domestic goodies. Since that would only happen in Pixarland, my fantasy has morphed into a fascination with taking a hot air balloon ride. This dream is only ever so slightly hindered by the fact that I am really scared of heights. I'm talking knees-knocking-in-the-nosebleed-seats scared of heights.

All Dressed Up

When I was at my grandmother's house over the weekend, she showed me a small photo of her mother and said, "she never went anywhere without a hat and gloves."

Words to Live by

Southern Comfort

"Well, butter my behind and call me a biscuit." -Southern Saying

Hey y'all. I just returned from a long weekend at my grandparents' house in Tennessee.

Aside from cultivating my love for Lipton's sweet tea and reminding me about the joy of screened-in porches and rocking chairs, my grandmother also taught me a few country cookin' gems.

Bloggy Break

"Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop." ~Ovid
Hey y'all. I'm taking a long weekend off. Be back on Monday. Need to steep in my creative juices and recharge my right brain.

Photo by my husband. On our honeymoon in Maui. 2005.

SATC Eve

I'm taking a little getaway this weekend, but before I do....I made sure to snatch some 9:30am tickets to SATC2 tomorrow. Now I remember what Christmas eve felt like when I was 7!

Cheers, girls! It's only a day away (happy dance!). Sip your cosmos, pull on your vintage Halston and slip into those Manolos....
It's almost here:

Cocktail du jour

The Tangerini:

• 2 parts vodka
• 1 part triple sec
• 1 part Tangerine juice
• splash of grenadine

shake vigorously with ice.
serve very cold.

The Four Friends

Bette Midler said it best, "well, you got to have fri-ends."

In my life, I've been fortunate to have had some fabulous friends. Some are near, others are far away. Some are old enough to be my mother, and others have known me since I was five. As I prepare to enter my thirties, I have come to recognize that every gal needs four types of friends:

Chalk it Up

Perhaps it's the teacher in me, or even the compulsive list-maker, but the thought of a chalkboard wall is enticing: a recipe here, a doodle there.Though in order to make the chalkboard wall all the more appealing, I would want a handwriting makeover. My current chicken scratch would not look like interior decor. It would look like a list-making nut had moved in. While we're pretending, I would request that my handwriting look like that which is ubiquitous on French café menu boards.

Dinner Time

This is a truth universally acknowledged: Mondays were made for comfort food. Last night, knowing that my hubby would return from work depleted and ravenous, I treated him to some semi-homemade chicken pot pies.

Champs Elysées: Going Vert

The BBC recently profiled a story about the Champs Elysées being covered in tiny plots of land, transformed by French farmers. For two days, the honking of Citroens was replaced by the baying of donkeys. The Jeunes Agriculteurs (Young Farmers) union organized last-weekend's event to underscore the plight of French farmers. Leave it to the French to make plight look pleasing...

Words to Live by

Let's be real, people. If I unleashed my true inner 13-year-old, this blog would be called "Puppies and Other Cute Stuff." Be thankful that I exercise a bit of self-control have not yet reverted to a puppy a day post.

Images borrowed from LifeIsMiraculous & LiveJournal.

The Art of Travel: Souvenirs

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” - Robert Louis Stevenson
The word souvenir conjures up visions of cheap Eiffel Tower key-chains and "I Heart NY" t-shirts and gaudy Cancun shot glasses. Linguistically though, souvenir comes from the French verb "to remember," a much more lovely notion than its modern consumerist meaning.

While I hope that my mind will always guard the precious details of all my adventures, I do often tote back an object that will help me remember a great trip. Most often that object is a small painting.

In the eighteenth century when groups of wealthy young Northern Europeans flocked to Italy on the Grand Tour, often they would return with a veduta (a view), a detailed painting of the cities they visited. While I cannot return from my trips with a Canaletto in tow like those eighteenth-century British gents, I do aspire to adopt a similar travel practice, even if on a far more modest budget.

I Hope You Dance {this weekend}

This weekend has been perfectly lovely. It's one of those weekends where I make up songs, where I twirl in the kitchen, where I skip down the sidewalk. Perhaps it's the touch of summer in the air, perhaps it's my glee with the end of the semester, but I am simply ebullient this weekend. I feel like dancing. I want to dig out my point shoes and spin. Ah, giddy, joyous, freeing dance.