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.
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.
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.
The people you meet on the Hike and Bike Trail
February 23rd, 2012 § 5 Comments
There’s nothing like a torrential downpour to make a girl appreciate a Sun-soaked Sunday. And there is no better way to spend said Sunday than with a romp around Lady Bird Lake with your adorable labradoodle friends. So, that’s what I did.
Apparently everyone in Austin had the same idea, because the trail was as busy as I’d ever seen it. Fortunately with 1o miles of terrain from end-to-end, there was enough trail to enable the peaceful coexistence of hippies and yuppies alike. Please allow me to elaborate on some of the more interesting characters you will find scooting along the sandy shoreline.
1.) Super intense, no-time-for-funny-business-or-smiles workout buff.
Not to be confused with casual, chatty, on-a-light-jog-with-my-friends-or-my-dog exerciser. Those folks exist too, but I’m far less aware of their presence than the previously mentioned work out machines. No duh the trail is a great place to exercise, but some folks take it to an extremely intimidating level. They whiz past at light speed, sporting a “move it or lose it” attitude and are usually wearing work out attire that costs more than an uppity designer dog (or they are hardly wearing anything at all except a shiny, sweaty six pack that makes me hate myself on many levels). Sometimes they pass with an army of other runners and sometimes they fly solo, but every time I spot them I dangle my head in shame knowing I will never join their ranks and feel slightly self conscious that I am some how ruining their workout routine with my slow-footed pace. Sorry, work out man. I’ll try and keep out of your way.
2.) Person on bike who comes dangerously close to running you over.
I know, I know it’s called the hike AND BIKE trail, but this might be the one place in Austin where cyclists are at a disadvantage. There are far too many off-leash dogs, tiny children and meandering pedestrians for you to truly enjoy that bike ride. You can ring that bell all you want but at some point you’re gonna have to tap the breaks and dismount to make way for the golden retriever and its hip stroller-pushing mother making their way to turtle cove.
3.) Posse of hipsters
Wearing some article of neon clothing and probably equipped with an ironic accessory like a vintage camera or dated walkman, the hipsters flock to the trail just like the dog walkers, out of town visitors and work out enthusiasts do. So glad nature and sunshine are still “in.”
4.) Person with out of control/too many dogs.
I’m kind of definitely talking about myself here. I love the doodles with all my heart, but sometimes they are a bit much for the trail. Wyatt pulls on the leash like he’s towing a sled of expectant mothers to the hospital, and Stella has to stop and pee on just about everything—and what she doesn’t pee on, she has to stop and sniff. We’re the people that have to apologize to every other dog walker for allowing our muts to get all up in their business. Off leash, things aren’t much better. Wyatt morphs into a hyperactive toddler, screaming with glee at every little dog and leaf and speck of dust that passes him by. Stella jumps into the swampy shore water every chance she gets, usually stealing toys from other dogs. Sorry trail mates, for screwing up your hiking experience with our exuberant Ewoks.
5.) Person riding the trendiest new water craft device.
In the past it was kayaks, then it was the stand up paddle board. This go ’round everyone was all about the hydrocycle. And that’s pretty cool, I guess. You’re certainly not going to be running across poorly trained muppet dogs out on the water, so why not hydrocycle really? Way to be, water lovers. Land is for wusses.
Even with aggressive athletes and trendy under-aged hipsters, I love, Love LOVE my time on the trail. At the end of a walk, run or row there’s a undeniable sense of camaraderie with the fellow trail goers despite varying preferences in pooch or pace. It’s our special piece of earth where nature coexists with urban sprawl…and that’s a pretty cool thing to be able to share.
Yeah, I’m practically a celebrity.
January 24th, 2012 § 2 Comments
“Beep Beep”
What was that?
Oh that? That was just the sound of me tooting my own horn because…
The January issue of Austin Monthly came out and I helped write the cover story! It’s my first cover story since I officially retired from the exciting world of news reporting and it’s nice to know that people who aren’t directly related to me actually enjoy reading what I write.
But wait, there’s more! In the mail last week I received a shiny new copy of Forty Acres of Fun, a new book published by the UT Co-Op which features funny short stories about life on the University of Texas campus. And who’s name is that on page 131? Yep, it’s mine! This may very well be the one and only time I get my words published in a book, so please excuse me for shamelessly plugging it on this blog.
Thanks English teachers for book learning me real good.
Hook ‘em!
Just call me Crabby
November 7th, 2011 § 2 Comments
Moving has turned me into a hermit crab.
My excitement with home ownership has quickly morphed this once social little creature into a ghastly, fun-forgoing mutant that never leaves the house. Sure, the temporary halt from my usual Austin activities is partly to blame on a sudden draining of funds (house down payments and repairs don’t come cheap and neither does dining out and date nights), but I’ve also backed out of attending one or two freebies without having much of an excuse other than a strangely irresistible desire to choose nesting over nightlife.
Por ejemplo: I realized that despite last weekend being my birthday weekend, an occasion usually celebrated with fancy dinners and elaborate outings, I didn’t leave the house once between the time I got home from work on Friday night and left to go back on Monday morning. Yes, there was house partying in celebration of said birthday (so I’m not to J.D. Sallinger level yet), and yes, I was slightly preoccupied over the weekend working on an freelance piece, but those aren’t really good excuses for bailing on social interactions and general merriment (I backed out on a Halloween house party, Fun Fun Fun Fest night shows and Sunday Brunch at the Dog Majal just to name a few). No offense to the new house, but after confining myself to to our mini piece of property for some 60 hours this weekend (ICK!) I can’t help but feel a little disgusted with myself.
So in service to the blog (which, let’s face it, has been a little lackluster lately) and in service to my mental health, I vow to step out on the town in one form or another every night this week. Look at me, I’m so brave.
ACL Wrapped Up
September 19th, 2011 § 1 Comment
It’s difficult to write about an event that is so widely reported on it’s almost cliche. Austin City Limits Music Festival. Yes it’s a good time. Yes there is a wonderfully diverse selection of bands that will tickle your ear drums (think everything from Kanye West, Stevie Wonder, Randy Newman and Coldplay). Yes there are massive crowds, expensive beer and weather woes. Despite those shared sentiments, at the end of those three days, the 75,000 festival attendees leave the park feeling as though they’ve each just had a completely unique experience. Such is the beauty of 46 acres, 130 bands and 8 stages.
So, rather than giving a vague, surface level review of the festival as a whole (after all, I’m not a music snob and can’t single out a skilled guitar riff or a sick bass line), I shall opt for an honest recollection of my fourth ACL experience.
In year one I made it my goal to hit the front row of every show. Year two I hung back in the shade. Year three was my first go at festival attending at legal drinking age and year four allowed me to mix my favorite elements of the other three fests together to create one awesome festival cocktail. For the bands I loved I wiggled my way through the crowd to get as close to the front as decency would allow (there is strict crowd etiquette when it comes to getting front and center) and for the more mellow, less familiar bands I hung back with a beer and an umbrella (which, this go ’round, offered protection from sun and rain).
The final menu looked something like this:
Friday–Fool’s Gold, Foster the People, Kanye West
Saturday–Fitz and the Tantrums, Cut Copy, Chromeo, Stevie Wonder, My Morning Jacket
Sunday–Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses, Fleet Foxes, Empire of the Sun
Foster the People, of Pumped up Kicks fame, put on an invigorating show that had 12,000 bystanders singing, dancing, clapping and writhing along with lead singer Mark Foster who was having as good or better a time than the crowd he was performing for. * Having seen Coldplay perform twice before, we opted to rap along side Kanye West for the Friday finale. The rapper put on a show typical of Kanye fashion…that is, it was flashy and self-indulgent. The 1 1/2 hour performance was presented in three acts. Acts one and two were packed with the hit maker’s most famous tunes like Good Life, Gold Digger and Through the Wire. The crowd ate it up, and had the opportunity to behold a fantastic troupe of professional ballerinas in the process. (As a former ballerina myself, I applaud Kanye for exposing his fans to one of the more under appreciated arts, but I couldn’t help but wonder if his desire to hire dozens of professional dancers was rooted less in some deep appreciation for the art of ballet and more in fear of sharing the stage with musical contemporaries who could potentially steal his thunder.) The last act was tired and momentum killing. Instead of turning out his most bass thumping hits, the rapper went off into a slow parade of one auto-tuned memoir after another. Fans who left before the last 20 minutes did themselves a favor. * The Saturday Chromeo performance had people dancing against their will AND included Robert Palmer-esque back up dancers who helped keep the crowd in a constant sway. * Stevie Wonder would have been fantastic if the show was only audible. A failed speaker made it nearly impossible for fans hundreds of yards out to hear hits like How Sweet It Is and Signed, Sealed Delivered. * So we headed to My Morning Jacket across the park to hear a show that at times was peaceable and serene and at others headbangingly wonderful. * Sunday’s performance by Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses was so alluring it got Heath to abandon his post at the TV tent where the Dallas Cowboys game was being broadcasted. I wouldn’t have thought Bingham’s voice could outshine his good looks, but I was pleasantly pleased to see that, even live, it did. * Fleet Foxes sounded eerily, but delightfully, similar to Simon and Garfunkle and provided the perfect wind-down/wrap-up to the festival.
So there you have it folks, the extremely novice and naive opinion of two unprofessional festival goers.
Cheers to next year’s fest. I am already saving up for tickets.
