Burrow House

the neighborhood moron

I HAVE to share this little ditty, because it just has the whole neighborhood laughing and clucking their teeth this morning.

This is one of our haunts, with a darling courtyard and fantastic landscaping.  Amici's. It's right around the corner from us, and we eat there fairly often. The proprietor is a great gal. She and I even worked under the same chef through the years, but at different times.

She's been having a problem the last few weeks of someone stealing her plants.  And not just the ones that were potted and in urns (which they took too), but also the ones right out of the ground. Repeatedly.  I wish I had a picture of the sign that was hanging in the window last week.  I'm ad libbing, but it said something to the effect of, "To the jerk who keeps stealing my plants, I hope you die."

I mean, really.  What kind of cares-about-gardening person is a thief?  I'll tell you what kind.  A really stupid one.

All of her plants were found yesterday.

Planted in the front yard, and sitting on the front porch of a house less than a block away from the restaurant.

ON THE SAME STREET.

He went to jail.

This was the sign that was posted in the restaurant window this morning.

gro good

Now, if you've been hanging out at the Burrow for a while, you know that I'm a huge supporter of good food. And responsible gardening. And all things local. And socially aware organizations. Among other things.

Today, I'm here to make you aware of .

Their nation-wide website makes it SO easy to pledge to garden responsibly, AND to find local foodbanks that accept home grown produce.

Gro Good's mottos are as follows:

MAKE MY GARDEN WITH LOVE

EAT MY HOME GROWN FOODS AS OFTEN AS I CAN

PLANT A LITTLE MORE THAN I NEED

DONATE MY EXTRA HARVEST TO A LOCAL FOODBANK

Come on people.  Make that pledge.

the beauty in chaos, chapter 3

Or, A Tale of Two Cakes.  Wait THREE cakes. 

This is a flourless almond torte I made for my father's birthday last week.  It's one of my favorites, but not REALLY cake-like.  No flour.  No sugar.  I swear.  But so yummy.

Okay.  First, this shot is a bit blurry.  I was using my little point-n-shoot, as I left my beloved D80 at my grandmother's house in Cincinnati this week. Needless to say, I drove 5 hours round-trip to pick it up on Sunday.

Anyway, I made this Carrot Cake to take to a friend's for dinner on Saturday.  Fantastic recipe. Not mine, but I will be adding it to the recipes section anyway.

It's also my Beauty in Chaos installment, as this is what happens when you make the frosting...

Well, that's what happens in my house anyway.

Now, I didn't make this cake, but it was one of the best German Chocolate cakes I have ever had.  We celebrated a friend's birthday last weekend, and this was his birthday cake.  I will be tracking down this recipe and adding it to the recipe section as well.  And as fantastic as this cake was,

This homebrew he had made was even better.  Oh man, good stuff.

Technically, I think it is called a Barley Wine.  But I'm not very technical.  

Happy Tuesday friends.  I'm off to burn some of these calories! (cake recipes can be found "in the kitchen," on the left of your screen.)

spring-y

I've been conspicuously absent from this space this week.  Gardening.  Then the rain came, and I had to attempt to summit Mount McLaundry.

This is what spring looks like around my house.

All over the neighborhood are spectacularly beautiful white blossoms.

The city at one point had decided to stick a Bradford Pear tree in every available spot.

The flowers last less than 2 weeks.

Which is a good thing because they stink.  Sortof like vomit.

And then in the fall, they drop these mangled little hybridized fruits that stick like napalm to your car.

But even in their flawed perfection, I adore them, because they  are the heralds of SPRING.

where's the beef?

I've made a pact with myself to NEVER leave home without my camera.  Most of the time I forget.  Like the other day when we passed a leotard clad dance squad bouncing down the street, faces layered with blue eyeshadow, a river of rouge streaked down each cheek, and lips as crimson as the setting sun.  Oh, how I wish I could share that scene with you!

But sometimes I do remember.  And I see things that jump out at me.  I like to immortalize these things, so I can ponder on them later.

Like this shot I took last week.  Is someone worshipping Beef?  Did they use a ladder to get up there? Did they have a stencil?

This shot in and of itself may prove to be only a short diversion.  But this morning I drove past something that gave me pause.

I had remembered my camera, which is a serendipitous thing, because this is what I saw.

What can this MEAN?  Friends, there is a conspiracy afoot!

details, details

If I haven't mentioned it lately, I love my neighborhood.  

We have the largest concentration of Victorian homes in the entire country.  

That's right.  

Even more than San Francisco.

Occasionally, I'll remember to take my camera along when I go out walking.  

And every time I stop and look, I see something that I hadn't noticed before.

Intricate details are packed in every conceivable place.

From the tips of their noses.

On down to their toeses.

And every place in between.

Those little people LOVED their details.

Maybe someday I'll take a class on symbolism.

I really enjoy our time together.  Come visit again soon.  And if you wouldn't mind closing that gate on your way out.

road rage

I seem to get flipped off a LOT while driving.  Honestly, most of the time I really don't think I deserve it. Here are a couple of stories to make my case.

Once upon a time, I was turning left from this intersection.  Now, the light had been green for all of one minute as I was waiting for a pedestrian to cross the street.  Because, well you know, it's the law. And I didn't want squished pedestrian all over my tires.  And THIS pedestrian was a cute guy, hereafter referred to as cute guy pedestrian.

Anyway, someone behind me got tired of waiting. Whether they were tired of waiting for me, or cute guy pedestrian, I'll never know.  But they let out a startling honk.  And without even looking up, cute guy pedestrian flipped ME off.

Now it was warm out at the time.  My windows were down. So as soon as cute pedestrian guy's feet were safely on the curb (and not one second before, much to the dismay of mister fasty-pants behind me) I made my turn. It disturbed me that cute guy pedestrian thought I was the one who honked.  I called after him through the open window, "Um, excuse me, but I just wanted you to know that it wasn't me who honked."

At which point he stopped, turned, looked me square in the face and said in very irritated tone, "Well, life just isn't fair, is it?"

I was so shocked at his unexpected response that I burst into laughter and responded, "Oh my God, you are a d!@k!"   Who knew?

This is where a little old man pulled over the other day so he could put his arthritic hand out the window and flip me off with his wizened gnarled fingers.  Well, they were so stiff that he couldn't quite fold down his ring finger and pointer finger so it was more of a W.  But I got the point.

I have absolutely no idea what I did to deserve that one, but in his defense, I DID just get a mini van. The dimensions are both longer and wider than my cross country.  In all likelihood, I had it coming.  Sorry Mister!  I really didn't mean to!

Now, see the red light in this photo?  That is the scene of my next story.

Saturday was gorgeous.  I was in a great mood. My windows were down. I was stopped at a red light here, behind another car.  We were both going to turn left when the light changed.  I have no idea WHEN the light changed because I was daydreaming, as I am wont to do on occasion. In fact, I never even noticed my husband and children in the car next to me trying to get my attention. Until I heard a honk.

At which point the woman in front of me, who also had her windows down, flipped me the bird and let loose with a string of profanities that would make any sailor proud.

We made our prospective turns, and she slowed to a crawl in front of me.  No doubt trying to provoke me into a street brawl.  

So I pulled along side her and asked in my sweetest sing-song voice, "Excuse me, but are you screaming at me?"

"Did yew honk at mie?" she screamed in a voice tarnished with tar and nicotine.

"Why, no, I didn't.  I think that was my husband honking at me to get my attention," I replied.

"Oh. Whale, I apologize then,"  she threw at me as she accelerated into the distance.

I immediately called my husband and told him the story.  Apparently, when the light turned green and they were passing me, Raike reached over and honked because they couldn't get my attention.  He said he already knew that I had been accosted because a look of absolute shock washed across my face.

But this last one is my favorite.

It was about 9:15 in the morning and I was at this intersection waiting for oncoming traffic to pass so I could turn left.  A guy pulls up next to me in an old Gremlin, smoke encircling his head like a wreath, screaming like a maniac and pointing at the sign.

Angelically I smiled, pointed at the sign, and then to my wrist.

I watched as the color of his face changed from indignation to realization and then to embarrassment, then he sped away into the wild blue yonder never to be seen again.

The funniest thing of it all, is that ALL of these scenes are within a half mile radius.  Makes you wonder what's in the water 'round there.

That's my story for today friends.  If you have any tales to support those who flip me off, please feel free to share.  This is an open forum.

safe and warm

It's a disaster zone around here. Again. There are 173,000 houses without power in our city alone. We are so fortunate to have a certain little luxury called a "furnace."

But we're quite cozy.

Lots of visitors round here.

Lots of bread baking.

And lots and lots of projects.

Quote of the day:

"I have spent my entire life in the avoidance of 'roughing it,' and 'roughing it' has come to me."

-my sister-in-law on receiving her first shower in 3 days

snow day

We actually got a few inches of show around here!  School and everything else is closed, which means I will NOT be going to the craft store like I had intended today. And it's chilly.  So I'm cooking.

There's not much better on a cold day than a hot, hearty soup.  This is a pumpkin-kale soup that I'm exceedingly fond of.  Well, I used some of the butternut puree from the plethora of CSA squashes we had.  Seriously, I almost needed a box freezer.

No Knead bread is rising on the counter.  TRYING to rise, that is.  Have I ever mentioned that my house is drafty?

And, well, I've already eaten half of this Scottish Shortbread all by myself!

I'm in the process of re-vamping and expanding my recipe section.  You can find all my recipes just by clicking on the "In the Kitchen" album on the left of your screen. Click on an image to pull up the recipe.  As always, I love your feedback!

when life hands you a hurricane...

...gather hedge apples.

Usually, the ones that make it to the ground have exploded because they are too ripe, or are half eaten by the squirrels.  But now, no spiders for us this winter!

The ground is completely strewn with assorted nuts.  Hopefully the various critters will hurry and store them away before the park is re-cleaned in preparation for the St. James Art Show.

And another update, WE HAVE POWER!!!  Our lights came on at 3:09 a.m. yesterday morning.  The ceiling fan broke the beautiful silence and woke us up with it's vaguely familiar drone.

Strange as it may seem, I got quite used to no power.  No tv. No computer. No extraneous noise.  And beautiful, perfect weather.  Those thousands of people still without may see it differently, however!

But the best part of being stranded in the neighborhood?  Neighbors, and friends.  We've all gotten together every night to pool our resources together for fabulous meals.  We've helped each other drink beer that otherwise would go funky.  We've made pies from all the gorgeous peaches and berries that were lovingly picked and frozen.  And let me tell you how yummy s'mores are when they are cooked over the firepit in the backyard.  But best of all, we've laughed.  It just goes to show, you get out what you put in.

And the kids?  Packs of 'em.  Having a blast.  With no video games.  Hmmm.  I think our wiring may go be on the fritz.

I'm glad to be back.  I've got some serious blog catch-up to do!