Movie Night
May 30th, 2012 § 1 Comment
There are few rituals Health and I abide by religiously: one is watching every game of Heath’s favorite sports team The Dallas Cowboys, one is playing foosball to decompress after work, and one is attending a weekly ceremony appropriately known as Movie Night.
Movie night started as Mad Men Mondays–a time when friends would come together to mooch off each other’s cable television and watch the previous night’s episode of Mad Men. But then the show went on an extensive hiatus and we were still itching for some way to pass the time with dinner and TV. (No books of course. A book club would be way to classy for the likes of us.) Thus, Movie Night was born.
Movie Night has become a staple for we doodlers for several reasons. First and foremost, it gets us out of the house and prevents us from being weird anti-social hermit crabs. (This is extremely important as Heath and I can often get sucked into home improvement projects and forget the rest of the world exists. We even bailed on SXSW this year to redo our kitchen, so it’s sort of a problem.) Second, it’s a terrific way to see films I probably never would have known existed, much less watched, on my own. Third, like watching an episode of Lost, we get some pretty good backstories on our friends. Selected movies are usually given some context for why they were chosen—whether it was a Christmas-time family tradition, a film that had an impact, changed someones way of thinking, etc. You can learn a lot about someone based on their movie choice for this most precious of traditions.
As you may have presumed, Movie Night operates as follows:
- A different person volunteers to host each week
- A specialized cuisine is prepared by the host (sometimes related to the film, sometimes not)
- A film is selected, screened, and discussed.
One truly enjoyable aspect of the ritual, is there are virtually no limitations or parameters set for what type of film can be screened. We’ve viewed everything from Ding-a-ling-Less, the part-comical, part-bizarre story of a fictional man who is, well, minus one ding-a-ling, to Waltz with Bashir, an astonishingly original animated documentary about the 1982 Lebanon war. (And oddly enough, both were chosen by the same Movie Night Patron.) Having no guidelines, no theme, no confines from which to operate within has allowed for some wonderful cinematic experiences that have been eye opening, contemplative, riotous, thoughtful and other diverse but intriguing adjectives.
I’ve started to view movie night as more than just a weekly social gathering. On paper, I suppose that’s the gist of it, but for me personally it has taken on a greater role. While not a totally original concept (I know, dinner-and-a-movie is a classic date-nightish staple in American culture), this weekly gathering of friends, communal cooking, humorous reflections and fresh cinematic experiences will forever be engrained in my memory as unique custom specific to a truly remarkable stage of my life. Most of us are existing in a weird, post-college transitional stage where we’ve all disembarked, in one form or another, from our own families and family customs but have yet to create our own. So in a sense, Movie Night is my family’s Saturday trip to the public library, my after-school ballet rehearsal, my summer trips to my grandparents’ house. It’s a custom I take great joy in experiencing, but know–like my ballet rehearsals—will eventually come to a close. I aim to cherish it while it’s here.
Happy Blogiversary!
May 26th, 2012 § 6 Comments
Today marks two years of blogging from the doodle house!
Documenting our lives and sharing the things that have entertained and inspired us has been tremendously rewarding. The blog has been a place where I can be creative and goofy and honest, and I’m so happy to have found such joy in this little hobby.
Some highlights of what we’ve done and seen in the last two years…
We added chickens to our family….
And we took some chickens away…
We got our feet wet with gardening…
It’s been a thoroughly eventful two years. There’s no telling what the next two will hold.
Wine Not?
May 14th, 2012 § 2 Comments
I enjoy wine. Scratch that. Wine is the drink I enjoy above all other drinks. Perhaps because it is diverse and can take on so many remarkable forms–thus is capable of suiting my every mood. Sweet. Dry. Fruity. Crisp. Acidic. Buttery. I could go on and on. I love how it tastes, how it feels, how it smells. Bottled or boxed, I’ll take. It also doesn’t hurt that it has a reputation for being somewhat healthy too, so I can feel OK about indulging in the occasional glass or two (or three).
The problem, if you want to call it that, is that until recently I wasn’t really discriminating between types. I was acting like a floozy, not being particularly picky about my suitors. I was just happy to have a date.
Heath, trickster that he is, took it upon himself to change that by organizing a surprise Blind Wine Taste Test. What fun! Home he came with six mystery bottles (4 reds and 2 whites) for me to sample, identify and evaluate. I knew I liked that guy.
The wine contestants
The purpose of the test was for me to see not only if I could identify which wines were which from taste alone, but also to see what type of wine I truly enjoy the most. I’ve been to vineyards and done the whole wine tasting thing before, but doing it blind made for an ironically eye-opening experience.
It was stimulating to see if I could detect the hints of berry, chocolate, nuts etc. the labels claim lie within. And I enjoyed getting to have an honest discussion about which glasses worked for me and which didn’t, without being influenced by my atmosphere, the wine’s cost, or my previous notions of what I did and didn’t like. For example, I always thought myself a red girl, but I was blown away both by how much I enjoyed a glass of crisp Pinot Grigio and how much I winced after a sip of Merlot.
I won’t be going into the wine tasting business professionally, as I don’t think I really have the chops or buds sensitive enough to handle the job; but the wine taste test was a super sweet and thoughtful surprise that helped me learn a little about myself and little more about my favorite hobby. Perhaps next week. A cheese taste test is in order.
Cheers!
Home on the road
May 9th, 2012 § 3 Comments
Last week I posted about my mini internal struggle with balancing my desire to nest and create a sense of home with my desire to explore and travel and enjoy new experiences. The debate got me thinking about what “home” is in the first place and what things, thoughts, people, food, etc. make me feel most at home. Heath, for one. And the doodles. Any place where breakfast tacos are attainable within 5 minutes. Yes. Those things feel pretty homey to me.
And then I thought of Laura and Casey. Two friends who know all too well that home can take on various forms. Most recently “home” has been The White Buffalo, an old school bus converted to run on vegetable oil that the Laura and Casey share with fellow Bloodroots Barter bandmates and their dog Roamona when they are on tour.
The Bloodroots Barter and the White Buffalo
The bus has traveled with them all across the North East and while the window views, the weather, the roads and the people are ever changing, the White Buffalo remains a symbol of home. There’s no flat screen TV or king-sized bed. There’s no wall of family photos or matching curtains or perfectly coordinating vintage decor. Instead, it’s a place of refuge from the stresses of touring, a familiar nook in a sea of the strange, a place to feel safe and comfortable among friends. There is little I can think of more like home than that.
Boarding the White Buffalo
Roamona on board the White Buffalo
Jamming out on the White Buffalo
Laura behind the wheel
A tight squeeze
While the White Buffalo won’t be home to the BRB forever, it’s been a beautiful symbol of how home is a state of mind.
Crossed off the restaurant bucket list: Foreign and Domestic
May 7th, 2012 § 1 Comment
Maybe by the time Friday afternoon rolls around (our unofficial date night), our brains are mush from wrestling with 6th graders and endlessly redesigning marketing materials, and that’s why we find ourselves unable to think outside the box when it comes to our beloved dating ritual. Despite there being a seemingly endless collection of restaurants, food trailers and nifty nighttime hangouts to choose from in Austin, we often opt to return to one of about a half-dozen places we’ve grown most accustomed to: The Alamo Drafthouse, Nomad, Chinese take-out, etc. Not allowing myself to return Trudy’s for the 204327952th time, we opted for a new dining experience: Foreign and Domestic.
From fndaustin.com
Heath and I are not food snobs. We appreciate the attention to detail and inventive flavor combinations created by the artists at Uchi, while also valuing the simplicity of a well-made street taco. Essentially, if the chefs love the foods they are making, chances are we are going to love it too. The cuisine at Foreign and Domestic, which is owned and operated by husband-and-wife team Ned and Jodi Elliott, is certainly well-loved, as it features a small, seasonal menu that boasts a collection of items you’re unlikely to see elsewhere, like crispy beef tongue and grilled octopus among others. It pushes the envelope, without question, but does so in a way that is bold and imaginative with about being kitsch and is stimulating without being overpowering.
Seared Gulf Red Fish with Ramps strawberries and brown butter.
Besides mastering its menu, Foreign and Domestic has also perfected its atmosphere. The interior is modern and cozy, the knowledgeable wait staff makes impeccable recommendations, and even when placed on the wait list, a member of the bar staff is there to take your drink order before you’ve left the hostess stand. If you’re craving a dining experience that’s as upscale as it is accessible and as unexpected as it is delectable, consider giving Foreign and Domestic a shot.
Austin folk, if you have suggestions for other notable eateries I should try…we’re all ears.
Dear diary…
May 2nd, 2012 § 14 Comments
WARNING: This post is personal and includes me talking about my feelings. (Gross!) So if you only like looking at photos of pretty things (which, let’s be real, is what 99 percent of my blog browsing entails) you might want to just skip on over this one.
This post started out innocently enough—me, prioritizing my home improvement projects. Easy peasy, right? Then I started writing and, consequently, started thinking. I hate when that happens. One minute I’m calculating just how long I have until I can buy a new couch, install a dishwasher, put in wood floors, yadda, yadda, yadda…. and the next minute I’m in the middle of an idealogical dilema: Am I a fool (or tool) for wanting to invest beaucoup of money on “things” and not on experiences? When I look at some of my friends and the people whom I admire most for their free spirits and adventurous outlooks (like Laura and Casey for starting a blue grass band in the Kentucky wilderness, or Nick and Melissa for quitting their jobs to go on an indefinite sailing trip through the Bahamas), I think they would tend to say…yes, Kelsey. Yes you are. (Though, they would never ACTUALLY say that because, you know..the whole friendship thing.) What I’m getting at is, when you’re on your deathbed, no one ever says “Oh I wish I had spent more money on trendy design elements.” They say, “I wish I had done more, seen more, loved more, etc…” Consequently, I wonder if my priorities are all out of whack.
I realize I’m not the first or last person to do the whole “what does it all mean” thing. I know EVERYONE deals with this same dilemma in one form or another at one time or another, but now that I’m more-or-less a “grownup” I suppose it’s my turn to get to have that discussion with myself.
The astonishing conclusion I have arrived at (after having spent way too much time writing, deleting and then rewriting this post) is that I’m going to do whatever makes me happy. Living life and having diverse experiences is important, without question. I want to (and will) hike throughout South America and photograph the monkeys in India, but I also want to feel sublimely happy and comfortable in that place we call home. I know “things” don’t make people happy…but building and creating something beautiful on a blank canvas (in this case, our first home) does. So if I want to go to Mexico City for my second honeymoon, I will. And if I want to spend too much money on a goofy throw pillow, I’m going to do that too.
Finding happiness in delightful design or daring destinations? Tough call.
I spend a lot of time here talking about design and do dahs and doodles (and sometimes I’m embarrassed by the seemingly trivial things I post), but I guess what I’m really doing is talking about the things that make me happy. Sometimes it’s trinkets and sometimes it’s travel, and I think that’s OK because all times it’s things that give me joy.
What say you? How do you find balance between home and adventure?
Scoob Sitting
April 26th, 2012 § 6 Comments
Today I shall tell you the tale of Scooby, the newly adopted dog of our friends Zack and Caitlin, who spent a recent weekend at the doodle house playing the role of awkward stepchild.
Scooby is a 3-year-old mutt that might be part German Shepherd, might be part Shiba Inu. We don’t really know. Such is the fun of adopting a mystery dog.
We dog sit all the time for other mutts, but what made Scooby’s case special is that he was a fairly new dog to us and his “forever family.” Scooby had been bounced around through a few other foster families over his life so you never quite know what to expect. So allow me to let you know how some of the weekend played out.
Chapter One: The Chase. In addition to being part dog, Scooby might also be part bunny or antelope because your boy can jump. We learned this when, within 5 minutes of being in the backyard, he promptly cleared the fence to chase after a neighbor cat. (Clearly Scoobs has some long-running hatred toward felines because there was no convincing him that this cat was not worth the effort. Come on buddy, there are 4 chickens and 2 dogs to play with, why are you wasting your efforts on this dopey cat?)
The escape sent Heath into panic mode…panic along the lines of misplacing someone’s child or wrecking someone else’s car, but 10 times worse. Is there any feeling more gut-wrenching than losing your friend’s new dog in less than 24 hours? Nope. Definitely not.
The cat took off toward a busy intersection, followed closely by Scooby, and Heath trailing not too far behind. The cat made a right cut toward some houses and led Scooby to a corner. (Hallelujah!) Scooby tried to break free and continue the chase, but Heath made an epic lunge at the Scoobster and the event was over as quickly as it has begun. Scooby was back in custody and Heath had the road burn to prove it. CRISIS AVERTED. Note to self: maybe don’t let Scooby in the backyard without a leash.
Chapter Two: The Affair. Stella gets along with most dog folk, in fact she’s kind of a flirt. She’s never met a dog she didn’t like and Scooby was no exception. This is not a problem except that it drove Wyatt crazy. He’s not one to “show affection” if you catch my drift, but when Scooby was in town, Wyatt was all about letting him know that Stella was his gal. Though that didn’t keep Stella from falling into bed with this mysterious stranger. Wyatt didn’t take it so well.
Luckily, they have worked things out since then.
Chapter Three: The Good Dog.
I love dogs and I love to be helpful, so volunteering to take on Scooby for the weekend while his parents were gone was a no-brainer for me. It wasn’t until his family had left that I realized this was a big deal…for us and for Scooby.
Until Zack and Caitlin came along, Scooby never really had a stable home environment. And now, the only people who ever really gave him the proper attention he needed, were taking off for four days. Who could really know what effect that would have on a little pup with abandonment issues? Plus, as we saw with the cat incident, we didn’t know all of Scooby’s quirks yet. We didn’t know how he would act in tense situations, or around loud noises, or in the rain. (The list goes on…) Anyone with a pet knows that there are dozens of factors that can sends animals into a tizzy, and there was so much we didn’t know about Scooby, his personality, and his past.
So let me clarify my “awkward stepchild” comment, by saying that Scoobs is a really good dog. There were a few rough patches (or should I say “RUFF” patches? Yes I should.) which is to be expected, but all-in-all he was a welcomed guest. He is amazingly friendly and playful (sometimes too much so) and was a very fast learner. He never chewed anything or had any house accidents and that’s more than I can say about Stella and Wyatt.
I applaude Z&C for taking on the challenge of adopting an older, larger dog, rather than shelling out $$$ for designer dog puppies like we did (yes, I am aware that we are going to Hell). It takes a tremendous amount of courage and patience and love to be able to take on the title of adoptive parents. And in the end, I think Zack, Caitlin and Scooby will all be better for it. Way to be.
Acting Irresponsibly
April 17th, 2012 § 6 Comments
Mom to me: So in between all of this traveling back and forth to Denton for wedding responsibilities and working on house projects, when are you finding time to have fun and do your own thing?
Good point, Mom. It is high time I started being way more selfish and irresponsible.(What? That’s not what you meant? Well, that’s how I’m taking it.) I mean, when your own mother points out the fact that you are kind of being a lame 20-something-year-old, you really owe it to yourself to pick up the partying pace. Don’t mind if I do take a weekend off from painting and pruning to indulge in some merriment.
The first non-home-improvement related activity of the weekend: backyard party and musical extravaganza.
Our friends Tristan (musician) and Monte (intellectual) hosted a backyard shindig to celebrate the former’s birthday. Among other things, their late-night get-together featured a keg-loving kitty and live performances by Your Friendly Ghost. We’ve experienced a healthy variety of interesting party panoramas (including a cheap beer taste test and drinking among living manikins at The Gap to name only two), and this one lacked the grandeur of some of our other weekend romps in terms of food or fanfare, but was nonetheless a thoroughly enjoyable evening (completely free of drying Spackle or matching paint colors). After all, it’s not every day you’re granted front-row seats to an exclusive musical performance from one of Austin’s most talented up-and-coming bands. Point, Robinsons.
For day 2 of our vacation from renovation we went to the Live Oak Brewing Company on the East side for the local microbrewery’s 15th anniversary celebration. I attended an eerily similar event last year which I blogged about here. The biggest difference between that event and this one is mostly (and by mostly, I mean totally) in the numbers (14 years vs.15 years). The party was pretty much identical to the previous celebration…from the music talent, to the weird school bus themed bounce house, to the tortilla wrapped bratwurst. But it was free beer (the best in Austin), free food and perfect weather…so not at all something at which to turn up your nose.
From there we wandered to campus to hear Minus the Bear play at 40 Acres Fest. The annual concert is free for all, and in the past has hosted much bigger players like Little Richard and The Roots. This year’s show was much more scaled down than others I had experienced, and probably drew about 1/4 of the crowd, though even then, I’d venture to guess there were 400 or so MTB fans in attendance… mostly (as to be expected) students. Heath and I felt like old codgers in our folding lawn chairs off to the side of most of the concert action, but still had to hand it to ourselves for making it out after several hours of day drinking.
Lucky for us, sound was still pitch perfect from our side seating…AND we got to see the most ridiculously huge Texas flag hanging from the main building and acting as a backdrop to the emo/rock music. So, no curtain hanging this weekend, but definite flag hanging for sure…in fact, I’m fairly certain I’ve met my Texas flag quota for the year.
On Sunday we finally broke. We had to stop at Home Depot to get a few knick knacks for some side projects we have planned for later in the week. After all, we’re only human and can’t be expected to stay away from our calling for long. So I guess the weekend wasn’t COMPLETELY without thought of home improvement projects.
To make amends for our infidelity, we opted to spend the later morning/early afternoon taking in Sunday brunch and cocktails at Nomad. The neighborhood bar has time and time again won awards from The Austin Chronicle for having the best bar staff and being one of the best neighborhood bars, and it’s my prediction it won’t be too long before it gets a nod for its brunch. The brunch, by Mark Rivas Catering, is $13 for all you can eat brunchy goodness that includes a waffle bar, omelet bar, fruit bar and 23480234234 other options that get me in a tizzy. Admittedly, I probably love it so much because it’s walking distance from the house and has an option for bottomless mimosas, but since moving to the new casa, it’s been tough to abstain from brunch binges at Nomad.
And just like that, our weekend was done. We tended to the chickens and watched the latest episode of Mad Men, but other than that the house was unchanged. On Monday morning, the old house looked just as she did on Friday afternoon.
I know when my mother said we should take time for ourselves, she didn’t so much mean “take time to party, and sleep in, and be lazy.” She meant take time to travel and explore and experience new things, which is still on the docket for a weekend in the very near future; but heavens, I did enjoy my weekend of reckless disregard for my status as “homeowner” and drinking adult beverages with child carelessness. Still, I might be a little excited about returning to my rightful role of diligent caretaker to the doodle manor in the coming days.
God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt—except when it does.
March 13th, 2012 § 5 Comments
Whoever coined the expression “dirt cheap” was a little misinformed. As we’ve gotten our hands dirty in the world of gardening (pun INTENDED) we’ve learned that all dirt is not created equal, and the good stuff that makes things really grow will cost ya. In fact, good and fertile dirt is so valuable Heath actually packed up the soil from our old garden and brought it along to the new house. That’s commitment.
Happy Veggies
The run-of-the-mill dirt you’ll find in the average backyard in Austin (zone 8b) is high in pH, or very alkaline. That’s not so bad for veggies, but it will make it difficult if you choose to plant azaleas or blueberries and other acid-loving plants. So if you want to get creative with you’re gardening, you’ve got to outsmart Mother Nature because “you don’t put a $10 plant in a 5 cent hole.” Sometimes, in Austin, our holes are lucky to be worth that much.
So here’s what we’ve learned when it comes to soil solutions.
- Get tested. Your soil, that is. This way, you can know exactly what you’re working with as far as pH, nitrogen, potassium, phosphorous and other elements are concerned. You can either send soil to a lab or buy a testing kit from a home improvement store. We did the latter and felt the results were trustworthy, and now I’m tempted to test a batch of fertilizer to see if the results read “full of crap.” (I laughed at my own “joke” there for far longer than I’d like to admit.)
- Count your blessings. And by “blessings” I mean worms. Worms are to soil what twitter users are to the Internet. They keep things fresh by constantly circulating and rotating the good stuff through, and their poo is dynamite fertilizer. (That is probably not true, however, of twitter users.) Finding 10 worms in a square foot of soil is like striking gold. We had 5. We are the 99 percent.
- Till baby till. There are two schools of thought when it comes to tilling. The first says you should till the soil to a depth of 8-10 inches to truly provide plants with the proper amount of aeration. The other says you really only need 6 inches of soil and you can experience good results by simply digging to that depth and adding compost. In Austin, with Blackland Prairie soil as thick and hearty as it is, double digging or tilling to a depth of 10 inches (the way we would do it in fantasy land) is not doable, at least if we want to use our back, legs or arms ever again. So we make do tilling what we can, which is still a whole heck of a lot of tilling.
Sugar snap peas in freshly prepared soil.
- Compost counts. Decomposed organic matter is rich in nutrients, helps condition and fertilize the soil, adds Humic acid and acts as a natural pesticide. Is there anything sexier than a steaming, decomposing pile of compost? Besides being steroids for gardens, compost reduces the amount of trash we humanoids send to the landfill. Basically, if you’re not composting, you’re a bad person. I’m just joking. But not really.
- OK, but what the heck is Humic acid? It’s an important chemical to know about especially if you have clay soil because it improves the texture and can enhance water penetration resulting in better root zone growth and development. At the atomic level (impressed?) it frees up nutrients for plants to absorb. For instance: if an aluminum molecule is bound with a phosphorous molecule (impressed now?) Humic acid will separate the two, making the phosphorous available to the plant. This is very important for fruiting plants. So, in a nutshell, Humic Acid = Good.
Healthy soil, healthy garden
You don’t win the Kentucky Derby on a donkey and you don’t grow quality plants without well-cared-for earth. Even if you’re starting with soil that resembles a miniature pony more than a champion steed, you can do a lot to improve your conditions and be a real contender. Test your soil, add compost and soil balancing nutrients (like the iron potassium silicate Texas Greensand) and you can easily be off to the races.
Papa’s Hill Country Hideaway
March 5th, 2012 § 7 Comments
As kiddos, visits to the grandparents’ house were always looked forward to with great anticipation. Like most youngsters, I relished the time I had to spend with my grandparents because, of course as grand parents do, they doted on me incessantly and spoiled me rotten with baked goods and mouthwatering, artery clogging four course meals. Getting there was half the fun too. My Oma and Papa lived 5 hours South of us on the freeway–a trip that was actually more like 12 hours once you factor in a stop at the outlet mall for an obligatory road trip souvenir and a not-so-speedy run to the Czech Stop to purchase more fruit and cream cheese kolaches than should ever be consumed during a lifetime. But sweets and treats aside, I still loved visiting their home in the Texas Hill Country.
As a chubby tot I loved their home for very different reasons than I do now. A pier and beam craftsman with a giant wrap around porch, being on the deck at Oma and Papa’s felt like being a passenger on a cruise line sailing over a sea of wildflowers. Few sensations beat the one that came with dangling my little legs over the side of the porch while looking over blue bonnets and pear trees and making a mess of my mango juice and Sloppy Joe. Yes, as a kid (and maybe a little bit as an adult too), that was pretty much as good as it got.
Inside was great too. A Franklin stove in the living room set inside a special elevated stone nook proved to be a great stage on which to perform scenes from my favorite storybooks for the family after dinner. A house that features spectacular views of nature and spectacular views of me? Of course I loved it.
But today I love the house for more reasons than its potential to be a platform for post-dinner performances. It’s the house my grandparents built and lived in together for nearly 25 years, and where my grandmother said she was happiest. After touring the country for months in an RV, they reached the Texas Hill Country and could think of no better place to spend their retirement together than in the rolling green hills in the New Braunfels country side. They designed and built the home from the ground up, focusing incredible detail on every aspect from the gingerbread trim on the exterior to the stain on the kitchen cabinets. They did it together and ended up with a beautiful home that acted as the perfect setting to display their love of art, enable their love of food, drink and entertaining, and enjoy their love for each other for the last years of my grandmother’s life.
So while I’ll always love rocking on the porch and looking over wildlife–now with a glass of wine rather than a plate of sandwich–I think even more I’ll love the way the house makes me and anyone who enters it feel. It’s warm and stylish and loved to its bones. It smells like fresh bread and always sings of happiness.
