Photos: September 2006 Archives

Another reason I'm in love

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Because they're going to break hearts someday.

A show update: The new television series I filmed for called "We Live Here" premieres this Sunday at 7 p.m. CST (double-check for your time) on the Fine Living Network. The first two episodes are New York and Las Vegas; my St. Louis episode is to air sometime towards the end of October. I'll let you know as soon as I get the date.

And I cook for CHILDREN part II

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How to Make Spawn, the Image Comics hero.

This is ridiculous. Do not look at this while you are eating anything. Because dang, Gina. I'm a really good cook and an even better baker, but last night, GAH. So:

Begin by making beef stew.

Allow your toddler, who's drawing on the storm door with a blue window marker, to distract you by rubbing his drawing off with his face.

You holler "EWAN. Stop it!" and when he turns around he looks like Baby Smurf.

Spend an inordinate amount of time wiping off The Baby.

Return to the stove, lift the lid to the pot, and scream. Congratulations! You've succeeded in scaring the holy crap out of yourself with your own cooking!

The stew is supposed to have the appearance of burnt flesh. Or George Hamilton. It should be taut. If it is not, go and occupy your time with something because it is no where near burnt enough.

Remind yourself "This is food, this is food" over and over as you set the table, bent on not wasting five dollars of beef.

Laugh inside as your five-year-old starts to cry when he sees what's for dinner.

As you play chicken with your five-year-old to see who will take the first bite, decide that it really is awful and end up making grilled hot ham and cheese sandwiches.

Be sure to tell your mother that you're taking her OUT to eat Saturday for her birthday.

Happy birthday Nana.



(And I Cook For CHILDREN Part 1)

And I cook for CHILDREN part II

|

How to Make Spawn, the Image Comics hero.

This is ridiculous. Do not look at this while you are eating anything. Because dang, Gina. I'm a really good cook and an even better baker, but last night, GAH. So:

Begin by making beef stew.

Allow your toddler, who's drawing on the storm door with a blue window marker, to distract you by rubbing his drawing off with his face.

You holler "EWAN. Stop it!" and when he turns around he looks like Baby Smurf.

Spend an inordinate amount of time wiping off The Baby.

Return to the stove, lift the lid to the pot, and scream. Congratulations! You've succeeded in scaring the holy crap out of yourself with your own cooking!

The stew is supposed to have the appearance of burnt flesh. Or George Hamilton. It should be taut. If it is not, go and occupy your time with something because it is no where near burnt enough.

Remind yourself "This is food, this is food" over and over as you set the table, bent on not wasting five dollars of beef.

Laugh inside as your five-year-old starts to cry when he sees what's for dinner.

As you play chicken with your five-year-old to see who will take the first bite, decide that it really is awful and end up making grilled hot ham and cheese sandwiches.

Be sure to tell your mother that you're taking her OUT to eat Saturday for her birthday.

Happy birthday Nana.

(And I Cook For CHILDREN Part 1)

What happens when we dont have our kids

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Chris and I attended a friend's wedding over Labor Day weekend at Tower Grove Park. Fall is my favorite season and I'm perpetually out-of-doors, so the fact that the wedding and reception were outside was icing on the proverbial cake. I had my first carriage ride; I've lived in St. Louis my whole life and never once rode any of the carriages.
I stuffed my face beside none other than the mistress of retro fashion herself, Annamarie von Firley (also Doug's sister). If you read Bust you'd recognize her; she was written up a couple months ago.

After a few glasses of wine our friend Jay, whose band The Pedestrians played the reception, somehow convinced me to do bgv's on their cover of "Stepping Stone." Chris took video on his Treo and I'm doing everything in my power to prevent him from secretly uploading it to YouTube. SHUT UP. You will not see it. Absent were the traditional, kooky reception music and in their stead we cut a rug to songs from the Cure, the Clash, etc. I'll take awesome 80s bands that start with "C," Alex.

Our friends had one of the coolest novelties I've ever seen at a wedding; they rented a photo booth and offered free photos to their guests, one strip for the guests to keep and one for the bride and groom. Needless to say, the photos grew insane, but decorous still, over the course of the evening. At one point Annamarie employed her trapeze skills and attempted to perch herself at the top of the frame.

What follows below is evidence that Chris and I would have been lovely guests at the Mad Hatter's tea party.

What happens when we don't have our kids

|

Chris and I attended a friend's wedding over Labor Day weekend at Tower Grove Park. Fall is my favorite season and I'm perpetually out-of-doors, so the fact that the wedding and reception were outside was icing on the proverbial cake. I had my first carriage ride; I've lived in St. Louis my whole life and never once rode any of the carriages.
I stuffed my face beside none other than the mistress of retro fashion herself, Annamarie von Firley (also Doug's sister). If you read Bust you'd recognize her; she was written up a couple months ago.

After a few glasses of wine our friend Jay, whose band The Pedestrians played the reception, somehow convinced me to do bgv's on their cover of "Stepping Stone." Chris took video on his Treo and I'm doing everything in my power to prevent him from secretly uploading it to YouTube. SHUT UP. You will not see it. Absent were the traditional, kooky reception music and in their stead we cut a rug to songs from the Cure, the Clash, etc. I'll take awesome 80s bands that start with "C," Alex.

Our friends had one of the coolest novelties I've ever seen at a wedding; they rented a photo booth and offered free photos to their guests, one strip for the guests to keep and one for the bride and groom. Needless to say, the photos grew insane, but decorous still, over the course of the evening. At one point Annamarie employed her trapeze skills and attempted to perch herself at the top of the frame.

What follows below is evidence that Chris and I would have been lovely guests at the Mad Hatter's tea party.

Not unlike "Falling Down"

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Liam and other kids "played" with water guns at the big homeschool co-op luau. Make no mistake; these are not "squirt" guns. Kids nowadays laugh at the notion of a "squirt" gun.

Now they're called water guns or "water blasters." Do you know why?

Because one shot can douse my entire right pants' leg, deflect off of that and soak a five-year-old boy who tried, unsuccessfully, to use me as a shield.

One blast from Liam's gun can fully soak a boy up to eight years and a girl who was totally cool with getting blasted until her pigtails got wet then SCREAM.

They had no mercy.

Not unlike "Falling Down"

|

Liam and other kids "played" with water guns at the big homeschool co-op luau.

Make no mistake; these are not "squirt" guns. Kids nowadays laugh at the notion of a "squirt" gun.

Now they're called water guns or "water blasters." Do you know why?

Because one shot can douse my entire right pants' leg, deflect off of that and soak a five-year-old boy who tried, unsuccessfully, to use me as a shield.

One blast from Liam's gun can fully soak a boy up to eight years and a girl who was totally cool with getting blasted until her pigtails got wet then SCREAM.

They had no mercy.

He could teach you, but he'd have to charge

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Remember the yard? Of course you remember the yard. It was no longer a yard; it grew to such a size that is developed its own personality and required proper address, such as The Yard.

Lo, The Yard was mowed:

And it was good:

Yes, our yard is really that green and no, it doesn't have anything at all to do with the latest version of Photoshop.

Mike and Brian even took a poll. We have decided to pay the neighbor kid to mow it when Chris can't, may God have mercy on my dollar-wasting soul. You all got into Chris's good graces with that suggestion.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and pop some Aleve because this new schedule is totally kicking my bass.

He could teach you but he'd have to charge

|

Remember the yard? Of course you remember the yard. It was no longer a yard; it grew to such a size that is developed its own personality and required proper address, such as The Yard.

Lo, The Yard was mowed:

And it was good:



Yes, our yard is really that green and no, it doesn't have anything at all to do with the latest version of Photoshop.

Mike and Brian even took a poll. We have decided to pay the neighbor kid to mow it when Chris can't, may God have mercy on my dollar-wasting soul. You all got into Chris's good graces with that suggestion.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and pop some Aleve because this new schedule is totally kicking my bass.

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