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.

-4 weddings (with 3 more still to come)
-6 wedding showers
-4 bachelorette parties.

Apparently ’tis the season. This weekend at least was the last of our Denton weddings until September, but we went out with a bang–celebrating the union of Ryan to Holly, Heath’s youngest sister.

Family weddings are usually special in their own merit, but this one was particularly meaningful because we both had a part in it: Heath walked the bride down the aisle and I got yet another chance to play photographer. Hooray for being useful!

We were thrilled to send Ryan and Holly off in style, but I’m definitely looking forward to a few weekends spent at home with the doodles rather than traveling up and down the I-35 corridor.

Congrats to Ryan and Holly! Thanks for letting my camera crash your big day!

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 married!

And honeymooned…

We got our feet wet with gardening…

We bought a new house!

We traveled…

And traveled…

And traveled a little more…

It’s been a thoroughly eventful two years. There’s no telling what the next two will hold.

A view of the front yard from my mother’s walkway.

The charismatic front porch.

Looking out toward the street. (While I’m taking photos, good old mom is hard at work mowing.) 

Onion

A foot path through the flora.

Flower bed detail

Very Alice in Wonderland

Her terracotta terrace.

Absolutely the prettiest tomato cage I’ve ever seen.

After telling my mom I liked her sun dial, she immediately went out and bought me one. I guess I need to start aiming a little higher if that’s how she’s gonna play it.

The garden lining the driveway.

She is so creative with her use of color and texture. I can’t wait for her to come makeover our space. Happy gardening!

*To all my non-Texans, let me explain that by a “Texas Wedding” I do not mean that the aisles were filled with Southern ladies with big hair or that men were shooting pistols in the air when the bride and groom said “I do.” She didn’t ride a horse down the aisle or have a Dallas Cowboys themed wedding cake. When I say Texas wedding, I mean it highlighted all the things I love about being from Texas: a picturesque countryside, warm weather, greasy grub, and pride in your family’s roots and rituals. 

From the minute Courtney and David got engaged, Courtney knew the only place she could see herself getting married was in her parents’ backyard. They live on a couple acres of rolling green prairie a few miles outside of our hometown of Denton. I squealed when Courtney told me. In Denton, there are few places prettier than Courtney’s house, and no place more fitting for the strawberry blonde tomboy-turned-tender to tie the knot.

The day she and David became betrothed was indubitably perfect. The breeze was strong enough that it cooled the air and kept mosquitos at bay, but not so strong that it blew our carefully crafted coifs off kilter. A string quartet played traditional wedding hymns as she descended the aisle, and two matching flower girls led the way, leaving silky white rose petals in their path. Truthfully, the ceremony was so perfectly put together, it felt almost like I had been cast in a David’s Bridal commercial. How could a ceremony really be that serene?

Photo by Kelly Kate Photography

As is customary, a reception followed. Courtney’s was beneath a tent, its ceiling festively adorned with lights. The sun set behind them as they shared their first dance, and then guests celebrated with frozen margaritas, beer and barbecue. When it came time to dance, the groomsmen loosened their ties while the the bridesmaids traded their heels for sparkly Tom’s gifted to us by the bride. At the end of the night the bride and groom boarded a limo and rode together to their new home.

Photo by Kelly Kate Photography

On paper, the wedding was very traditional, and I think that’s why I loved it so. Texans are big on tradition and keeping things at a certain status quo, which usually jerks my chain, but not today.

When I got married, there were particular elements I knew I wanted or didn’t want based on what was considered “customary” wedding fair. I made a stink about not wanting a lingerie shower and opted to forgo a bouquet toss in favor of more dance time. I knew I wanted to walk myself down the aisle and I banned country music from being played at my reception. I prided myself on being what I thought was a quirky, outside-the-box, not your average-old-everyday-bride.

But Courtney and David’s wedding made me see “traditional” doesn’t always equal cliche. Their wedding felt truly genuine. Though following old traditions can sometimes feel tired or trite, there’s a place for things that have been handed down. There’s value in reliving the same customs as your mother, grandmother, and so on. It’s not about copying what’s been done before or following a pre-determined path of what’s expected or appropriate. Traditions become traditions for a reason; they can pay tribute while being personal and be inventive while following suit. Sure, cake cuttings and champagne toasts have been done before, but who really wants to toast with fresca and cut into wedding casserole anyway?

The bride with Leah and me…a tight-knit trio of gal pals for 10 years.

Cheers to Courtney and David!

Until recently, my dresser sat in front of a window, practically negating any need for some sort of artful display of eclectic whatchamacallits on its surface. But in preparing for Bro’s arrival, we did some room switching and I was left with a simple dresser against a bare wall. I knew I wanted needed to do something to give it some gusto, but figuring out WHAT should go there was more difficult than I anticipated. Giant artwork was out of the question (I don’t own any) as was a television (we only have one and it’s in the living room). What I did have on hand though, was lots of mismatched junk. So I figured I could probably find some way to make several random pieces look good together. I mean, if Pinterest can do it…

I started fooling around with some of my favorite little pieces, but that’s when I figured out that, while some of the items in my inspiration images look like they were casually placed there, it actually takes a lot of thought to make several elements with varying characteristics work together cohesively. For example, when I tried to pair a framed map with a a jewelry stand, it looked more like a bag lady’s campsite than quirky but beautiful dressing table. I played around for a good 45 minutes before I finally threw in the towel and googled “How to dress a dresser.”

I felt like a chump.

Fortunately I am not the only person who has had this weird “problem,” and I found a great step-by-step guide to creating an area that is fashionable and functional.

And with that little maneuver, I came just a little bit closer to having a grownup house. Move over, Martha.

When I planted it back in January, she looked a-like-a-this.

She’s not a bad looking gal. Fast forward to today, and this is what we’re dealing with.

I don’t want to say it’s the saddest thing ever, but it sure is breaking my heart. I just don’t get it. We water her daily. She gets plenty of sun. We used top notch soil during the potting process. It just doesn’t make a lick of sense. I thought maybe we were watering her too much, but she’s dry as a bone. I’m flummoxed. If anyone has any tips on what to do with this once majestic beauty, I’m willing to try anything.

Fortunately, all is not lost on the backyard gardening front. This Sunday we harvested our first carrot.

So maybe we won’t have beautiful patio shrubs to gaze out at this summer, but at least we won’t go hungry.

Happy planting!

Despite my terrible choice in headlines, the map wall has made a comeback! Not in the dining room, like I initially planned, but instead in the new office.

The map wall in the new office

As of now, the maps have not been permanently affixed to the wall via wallpaper paste or Mod Podge; I wanted to see how much I liked them there first. But I’m thinking it’s going to be a permanent fix for a couple of reasons.

1) It is undeniably awesome looking.

2) The office is the perfect place for a map wall because, for us, the office is the room we visit to get some work done and to appear intelligent and studious, and everyone automatically looks and feels smarter  standing in front of a map. “Oh me? What am I doing? I’m just committing some political geography to memory. It’s sort of my thing. Go ahead, ask me about the largest river in Cambodia. I can tell you all about it.”

I’m definitely feeling it in here. I know there are others who agree with me. Behold other humanoids who also enjoy a little map with their office.

Muah ha ha, yet another project crossed off the to-do list. I love our house.

Despite not having any formal training, I managed to find a hobby in photography. Heath gave me my first camera in 2008 and it is interesting to see how my photos have changed since then. I started a clumsy, clueless “photographer” afraid to wander from the camera’s auto settings. Today I am still clueless, but at least I’m experimenting a little more. I’m discovering there is a lot more to capturing a good photo than just pointing and shooting. There’s aperture and shutter speed and lighting and ISO and exposure and dozens of other factors to consider when getting behind the lens. And once I get the settings right, I still have to determine how best to capture the image I’m shooting to create a photo that’s interesting and real and beautiful to look at.  I’m no where near professional level yet, and realistically I don’t expect to ever get to that status.

Nevertheless, I love that my friends give me the opportunity to practice my photography skills on them, whether it’s taking engagement photos or capturing the intricate details of museum openings. Most recently I got to play photog at an Austin Writes Music showcase downtown that benefitted Austin Pets Alive. It was my first go at photographing a musical performance, but I enjoyed the mess out of it. Check out the aftermath…

Kinky Machine

Swan Dive Bar

Little Radar

Little Radar

Little Radar

Little Radar

Little Radar

The White White Lights

The White White Lights

The White White Lights

The Couch

The Couch

The Couch

The Couch

The Couch

The Couch

I know I’ll never get to be as good as the likes of other photographers I admire…like my brother-in-law of StormulaOne Photography, or my documentary film making friend Ranjana Thomas, or my wedding photographer pal  Tara Welch. But that’s OK. For now, photography is mostly a fun way for me to be creative and expressive, while simultaneously documenting some of the more interesting events of my life. And that’s not a bad place to be.

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!