tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66156616652560771652023-11-15T06:32:43.666-08:00...La Vie est Belle...et elle commence...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-50009483571755880472010-10-11T19:03:00.000-07:002010-10-11T19:03:01.312-07:00La Vie en Rose<object style="background-image: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/TtdibLY14hE/hqdefault.jpg);" height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TtdibLY14hE?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TtdibLY14hE?fs=1&hl=en_US" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="295" width="480"></embed></object>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-8524481487924564342010-09-08T21:08:00.000-07:002010-09-08T21:12:53.784-07:00EVERYTHING!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/TIhejZQ2TEI/AAAAAAAAAjY/13arerZU2Lc/s1600/P9080092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/TIhejZQ2TEI/AAAAAAAAAjY/13arerZU2Lc/s320/P9080092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514761705885158466" border="0" /></a><br />Tra LA! I'm pushing on through my masters degree! I'm teaching at two schools! My daughter is in kindergarten! I'm about to release another album! And I'm engaged to a man who lives precisely 99 miles away from me!<br /><br />All those exclamation points make it seem much more overwhelming, don't they?<br /><br />It's really just fine.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-63879538224708048532010-07-03T20:00:00.000-07:002010-07-03T20:05:21.791-07:00Oh, what?Is this really going to be that kind of blog? Where I periodically read everything I've written and then post as a form of procrastination, but only, oh, once every six months? Oh, once a year? Oops.<br /><br />No. Certainly not. Because, not instead of, but in addition to:<br /><br />1. Finishing a new record<br />2. Ditto two musicals<br />C. Parenting/enjoying my wonderful kiddo<br />3. Um, the masters degree<br />$. Something something personal life,<br />a) and my several current jobs etcetera<br /><br />I will find the time to blog semi-regularly again! BECAUSE YOU MISSED ME, INTERWEBS.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-59914262310309388302009-03-17T19:11:00.000-07:002009-03-17T19:18:06.388-07:00Hi, March.So I see I have not blogged since November.<br /><br />Well.<br /><br />This happened to me last year, too - it seems to be an occupational hazard. Once the school year gets in swing, I don't have as much time to while away on the interwebs. Or, I do, but this year I've been spending it starting a masters degree and making another record, and having a brief romance with someone I had known for 20 years end poorly.<br /><br />The good news is, N. has been rocking the early bedtimes in the big-girl bed. Also, I have a new record and almost 1/10th of a masters degree.<br /><br />Christmas was lovely, New Years' was quiet, Valentine's day was...also quiet. School's going pretty well, thanks. And you?<br /><br />Oops, that was the dryer. Right back...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-59594474857915852892008-11-28T08:30:00.000-08:002008-11-28T08:37:03.992-08:00Post-Thanksgiving Brunch for Two:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/STAc_8Ccm4I/AAAAAAAAAfw/BhmWtz8YmFY/s1600-h/potatocakes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/STAc_8Ccm4I/AAAAAAAAAfw/BhmWtz8YmFY/s200/potatocakes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273747048424577922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Potato Pancakes with Hot Sauce Gravy<br /><br /><br />2 1/2 - 3 cups leftover mashed potatoes<br />2 eggs<br />salt to taste<br />dash chili powder<br />butter or non-hydrogenated margarine<br /><br />For the gravy:<br /><br />1 cup leftover gravy<br />dash hot sauce<br /><br />Heat a stainless steel or cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Season the potatoes to taste with the salt and the chili powder. Mix in the eggs. Drop the mixture by spoonfuls into the preheated skillet. You will need to flip the pancakes several times, starting when the bottoms start to hold together. Flip and reshape until you have nicely golden brown cohesive pancakes. Remove to a plate. Warm the gravy however you choose and throw in a dash of hot sauce.<br /><br />Makes about 8 crispy, delicious pancakes, with enough gravy left over to secretly guzzle.<br /></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-54515033415470765582008-11-27T05:44:00.000-08:002008-11-28T08:37:44.273-08:00Thankful.<div style="text-align: center;">I am thankful for:<br /><br /><br />my beautiful home<br /><br />my amazing daughter<br /><br />being a teacher<br /><br />my piano, my guitars<br /><br />my giving mom<br /><br />the blessing of my immediate and extended family<br /><br />delicious and nourishing food to eat<br /><br />my professional successes<br /><br />my incredible support network<br /><br />kisses and hugs<br /><br /><br />N. is thankful for:<br /><br /><br />princesses<br /><br />my momma<br /><br />my nan<br /><br />my dada<br /><br /><br />happy Thanksgiving, everyone...<br /></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-13959165561266830912008-09-21T07:34:00.000-07:002008-09-21T07:46:41.420-07:00LOVE that top.<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EEbRxTOyGf0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EEbRxTOyGf0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br><br><br /><br />I love the appeal to ignorance! Now <span style="font-style:italic;">that's</span> hot. Like the air in the Shenzhen sweatshop that cute top came from. <br /><br />There are <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/chronicle/archive/2004/02/18/FDGS24VKMH1.DTL">quite a many known nasty facts</a> about high-fructose corn syrup, but the main reason I avoid it is because it is a hallmark of foods that have been processed to within an inch of the definition of "food." Picture the little pulverized "whole-grain" cereal puffs, rolling down the factory belt, getting sprayed with flavor coating, tumbling in the blast dryer...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-51487735082998520262008-09-12T19:35:00.000-07:002008-09-12T19:45:38.839-07:00My Acceptance Speech<div id="radlib-output"> <p>Radar Online has a Mad Libs game where you can <a href="http://radaronline.com/features/2008/09/create_your_own_party_acceptance_speech_presidential_race.php">make your own acceptance speech</a> for your party's presidential nomination.<br /><br />Here's mine.<br /></p><p><br /></p><div id="radlib-output"> <p>My <span class="lib">Darling Babies</span>, it is with profound humility and great <span class="lib">mild appreciation</span> that I accept your nomination for the presidency of the United States. [<em>Pause for applause.</em>]</p> <p>Growing up as a young boy in <span class="lib">Greenwich Village</span>, where I spent my days studying <span class="lib">boxing</span> so that I could one day go to college, and my nights doing <span class="lib">needlepoint</span> so that I could put some food on the table for my <span class="lib">5</span> brothers and sisters, I never thought I'd be standing here today. I never thought I'd be standing here after facing <span class="lib">no toilet paper</span> in <span class="lib">the Upper East Side</span> while serving my country as a proud member of the <span class="lib">Chess Club</span>, or when standing up against <span class="lib">delayed mail</span> while a United States senator, either. But my fellow Americans, I <em>am</em> standing before you today, and for that, I am eternally grateful. [<em>Pause for applause.</em>]</p> <p>I didn't get here alone, of course. Far from it. Where would I be without my beautiful wife, <span class="lib">Chicken Head</span>, who is the smartest person I know? Or my <span class="lib">6</span> lovely daughters? You mean the world to me. I'm so proud of you.</p> <p>But tonight isn't about what I've accomplished in the past. It's about what <em>we're</em> going to accomplish going forward. Together. You see, we stand here today at a crossroads. The issues we face—an <span class="lib">iffy</span> war abroad, a <span class="lib">flabby</span> economy at home, and an uphill battle against <span class="lib">sustainable bamboo harvesting</span>—aren't <span class="lib">Yellow</span> or <span class="lib">Red</span> issues. They're <em>America's</em> issues. Dealing with them is going to take a united front.</p> <p>It's also going to take hard work. Being willing to answer the phone at 3 a.m. Dedication to the task at hand. Which is why, my fellow Americans, I've enlisted the help of the wonderful, talented, <span class="lib">Governor</span> <span class="lib">Binky Townhouse</span> to be my vice president—<em>your</em> vice president—to help get this country back on track. <span class="lib">Her</span> years of <span class="lib">legislative</span> experience, willingness to confront the complacent Washington elite head on, and an upstanding reputation for <span class="lib">being a damn fool</span> are of vital importance to this ticket. I could not be happier.</p> <p>America, we still have a lot of work to do, but I'm confident that we'll make it through these turbulent times and turn back the <span class="lib">Screamies</span>. God bless! And God save America.</p></div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-24359447009673703242008-09-08T18:29:00.001-07:002008-09-08T18:41:06.070-07:00Bedtime for Momma.I have 62 great ideas for intelligent essays about parenting and early childhood development and politics and other stuff too, and not one iota of energy with which to string the words together.<br /><br />One of them is going to be about how I really hate it when random strangers in the grocery store tell my daughter she is beautiful, "just like a little doll!"<br /><br />One of them is going to be about how to praise people's work, no matter what age they are.<br /><br />One of them is going to be a how-to about moving overseas, possibly set to music. ("Hello...Scandinavia! Your healthcare sure is keen!" (jazz hands)).<br /><br />This post is going to be about how it's the beginning of the first full week of teaching and I'm already tired, but my record is live on amazon.com. You can listen to some tracks for free on <a href="http://www.myspace.com/supersuperblue">each</a> of my <a href="http://www.sarahlemieux.com/">websites</a>, and you can preview little snippets, and of course buy songs, by clicking on that big ol' picture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tinyurl.com/sarahrecord"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SMXTd66qGII/AAAAAAAAAac/HCXAdTbvS38/s200/sarahnewalbumcoverlowerres.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243829852127762562" border="0" /></a><br /><br />"Amalfi" is my favorite song, if you're only going to buy one.<br /><br />That is all.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-70949134400263147482008-08-28T18:09:00.000-07:002008-08-30T19:20:05.896-07:00How I Spent My Summer VacationSince I have just noticed that it now gets dark before N.'s bedtime (which makes things much easier), I thought now would be a good time to do some kind of Summer Wrap-Up. As all three of you may remember, at the begininng of this summer I was feeling "<a href="http://ellecommence.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-to-make-something-something.html">plateau-y</a>;" for the less erudite reader, that implies a blockage of creativity. Thankfully, I got over it. And so, without futher wordbutchery, I offer you Our Concrete Accomplishments of Summer '08:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">1. We turned this garden</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn2HbUJ9-I/AAAAAAAAAZA/aJsNPz-WwAE/s1600-h/DSCF0562.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn2HbUJ9-I/AAAAAAAAAZA/aJsNPz-WwAE/s200/DSCF0562.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240490248874096610" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"> into these (and other) tasty vegetables:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn2uZAxvUI/AAAAAAAAAZI/tSjME4eil9c/s1600-h/DSCF0912.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn2uZAxvUI/AAAAAAAAAZI/tSjME4eil9c/s200/DSCF0912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240490918270844226" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />2. We turned this<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn34pMR4tI/AAAAAAAAAZY/0kicowSoHIg/s1600-h/DSC01383.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn34pMR4tI/AAAAAAAAAZY/0kicowSoHIg/s200/DSC01383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240492193924375250" border="0" /></a>and this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn3YIIkFyI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/nkY9_BDsFiw/s1600-h/DSCF0917.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn3YIIkFyI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/nkY9_BDsFiw/s200/DSCF0917.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240491635294607138" border="0" /></a><br />into this record, which will be out in a minute, but forget I told you, because I'm not doing any advance:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn6hQGwGXI/AAAAAAAAAZo/1XtyHpzph_g/s1600-h/sarahnewalbumcoverlowerres.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn6hQGwGXI/AAAAAAAAAZo/1XtyHpzph_g/s200/sarahnewalbumcoverlowerres.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240495090588195186" border="0" /></a>3. We made this dress for Giselle. And a matching one for N., who makes me wear the dress I wore to my mom's wedding (also purple) and dance around with her - this is called "Going to the Ball."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn49LRdlsI/AAAAAAAAAZg/p16nayZzCH8/s1600-h/DSCF0625.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn49LRdlsI/AAAAAAAAAZg/p16nayZzCH8/s200/DSCF0625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240493371304023746" border="0" /></a><br />Sheesh. What else did we do? Made lots of pizzas,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn9MGyrsAI/AAAAAAAAAZw/Qt0vIgrhFTA/s1600-h/DSCF0494.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn9MGyrsAI/AAAAAAAAAZw/Qt0vIgrhFTA/s200/DSCF0494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240498025845731330" border="0" /></a><br />went on the boat ride I vowed to go on when we moved here (and LOVED it),<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn93gsMInI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/H36fJAtstPQ/s1600-h/DSCF0842.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SLn93gsMInI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/H36fJAtstPQ/s200/DSCF0842.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240498771532194418" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">went to like thirty-two beaches and playgrounds, and made next to no progress on the quilt. Ah well. Anycomplishment, this was one of the best summers ever. Seriously. Outranking several awesome summers I remember from my own childhood. Sigh. Thank you, summer. Love you.<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-48894153528652988552008-08-25T19:15:00.000-07:002008-08-25T19:18:59.735-07:00BrieflyAt this very moment, I am making the possibly terrible mistake of eating jalapeno-cheddar ramen noodles that I bought because they were steeply discounted.<br /><br />I couldn't resist.<br /><br />Previously, the weirdest flavor of ramen noodles that I had eaten was "shrimp," during the blizzard of '96.<br /><br />This is also the first time I have eaten ramen noodles in about four years.<br /><br />In case the internet wanted to know.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-58290277209218059692008-08-18T20:10:00.000-07:002008-08-18T20:37:34.863-07:00Back to the Future, part a billion.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKo86EUae4I/AAAAAAAAAYk/bq8TGqaies4/s1600-h/DSCF0857.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKo86EUae4I/AAAAAAAAAYk/bq8TGqaies4/s320/DSCF0857.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236064485061065602" border="0" /></a><br />I re-re-discovered a letter I wrote to myself in 1999, that I wasn't supposed to open until August of next year, but have periodically anyway. I really needed to find it again, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKo_cfdEKSI/AAAAAAAAAYw/6DYClcJQEJ4/s1600-h/DSCF0855.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKo_cfdEKSI/AAAAAAAAAYw/6DYClcJQEJ4/s320/DSCF0855.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236067275483916578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I bought N.'s lunchbox today.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-75656361282047151502008-08-16T20:50:00.003-07:002008-08-16T20:51:36.713-07:00I Love You, Johnny Kelly<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Lqqv3lsk9Dc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Lqqv3lsk9Dc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-14822156291378322582008-08-15T22:42:00.000-07:002008-08-15T22:43:30.826-07:00Oh, Hooray for This!Sometimes things on YouTube inexplicably fill me with joy. Like this:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kmjf_ol_3yo&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kmjf_ol_3yo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-80593916586029651932008-08-14T19:30:00.000-07:002008-08-14T19:49:11.674-07:00Chugga Chugga.Oh, I think I can. I think I can. I think I can! I think I can! Eat a jar of mayonnaise. Oh, wait.<br /><br />No. I think I can...buy a single pair of doll shoes off the internet to match the outfit we've been working on all summer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTrKHArE2I/AAAAAAAAAYM/PIV9STzbNJA/s1600-h/DSCF0779.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTrKHArE2I/AAAAAAAAAYM/PIV9STzbNJA/s320/DSCF0779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234567225824449378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For 75 cents (plus $6.50 shipping), you can too. Now, we can hold the doll with the dress <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> the shoes <span style="font-style: italic;">while</span> we wear the matching dress that momma made us <span style="font-style: italic;">while</span> we're watching the <span style="font-style: italic;">climactic ballroom scene</span> from the movie that we love with rapt attention for the 87 gazillionth time. Woe betide interrupters. Seriously, woe.<br /><br />What else? I think I can finish this @#$@ record before school starts. I have one song left to torture. I mean torture. I mean, produce. For a change of pace today I started working on the cover art.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTsrA48_PI/AAAAAAAAAYU/4idm7vhW1po/s1600-h/DSCF0807.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTsrA48_PI/AAAAAAAAAYU/4idm7vhW1po/s320/DSCF0807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234568890628766962" border="0" /></a><br />That may or may not have anything to do with what it ends up looking like.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTtYl_NA4I/AAAAAAAAAYc/p4z_ZDwu7PY/s1600-h/DSCF0781.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SKTtYl_NA4I/AAAAAAAAAYc/p4z_ZDwu7PY/s320/DSCF0781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234569673681208194" border="0" /></a><br />I think I can...make delicious rotisserie chicken tacos with fresh tomato corn salsa. Excellent 10 minute dinner, AND, the non-trans-fat taco shells were on closeout for $1.49. Of course, the chicken cost $100. N. said to me, just to clarify, "Chicken <span style="font-style: italic;">the food</span>, momma. Not a chicken animal." She calls the skin "peel." I'm leaving that one alone for now.<br /><br />Ok, ok. I think I can eat a tub of chive cream cheese. I mean eat a tub of - I mean, get back to work.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-81211434296230641852008-08-09T10:21:00.000-07:002008-08-09T10:48:30.161-07:00A Woman of Independent MeansWell, sort of. I was extremely proud of myself this week, as I had a rash (ew!) of minor misfortunes that I dealt with All By Myself, like the Strong Single Mother that I am, um, emulating.<br /><br />Firstly, I got a nasty clot of paperwork in the mail from my life insurance company, informing me that my policy had lapsed. Hillariously, two weeks before that, I had called to pay the bill over the phone, and secured the promise of the lady to call me if the transaction didn't go through. Which, of course, she did not do, however, thankfully I had written down her name and the date. Take THAT! Tropical Storm Edouard. Which had apparently hit the policy services department the previous day. Sigh.<br /><br />Anysurance, it only took about 4 hours of calling, pleading, repeatedly getting disconnected and mashing buttons on the keypad of my phone to sort that one out.<br /><br />THEN, my microphone broke, RIGHT in the middle of recording a track for the release I am planning for next week, so I cried about it to my mother, and she gave me $40.<br /><br />THEN, I got a flat tire! My first ever (awwww). Thankfully, I was in the parking garage where I pay by the month for work, and I know the guy. He had a very neat little pump that you plug right into the lighter, and it pumps the tire up quickly, and incredibly loudly. We drove to the gas station and it was holding, so we came all the way home. This morning it was about half flat, so we drove to the gas station down the street and spent the $40 on a patch and a half-tank of gas. Ah, well.<br /><br />THEN, the garbage men didn't take my garbage! What the heck?! They took my recycling, and left my trash can neatly where it was on the curb. I looked up the solid waste department of my town on the internet, and found that if they have done this for a reason, they will leave an orange sticker on your trash. No sticker. Total mystery. So today, I called the dump, and inquired as to their policies, and the lady said just bring my drivers' license. Of course, when I got there, the, hmm, procedurally oriented gentleman at the window asked for my town pass, but again - I had gotten the woman's name on the phone. "Heather said my drivers' license would be fine!" And so it was. Except that I had worn crocs. Eww.<br /><br />Yeeps. I am a little edgy and knocking on wood all over the place, because I really want this record release to be, uh, divinely perfect. Perhaps I should manage my expectations. Perhaps I should make another backup disc.<br /><br />;)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-53000649601376276642008-08-06T20:56:00.000-07:002008-08-06T21:00:47.108-07:00Where have you been?...you ask?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SJpzRFTO9UI/AAAAAAAAAYE/kwe23pU7d1o/s1600-h/DSC01396.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SJpzRFTO9UI/AAAAAAAAAYE/kwe23pU7d1o/s320/DSC01396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231620654462072130" border="0" /></a><br />Why, here, of course.<br /><br />;)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-72194226241995437402008-08-04T18:58:00.000-07:002008-08-04T19:01:30.035-07:00I promise a real post either later or tomorrow.I have a CD of pictures from the past 2 days in the car, but I'm slightly concerned about going out to get it, as the neighbors saw a coyote in their driveway last week.<br /><br />Still.<br /><br />In the meantime, I am so down to do <a href="http://www.busydadblog.com/weekend-blog-hoppers/">this</a>!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-66251467254447990362008-08-02T22:00:00.001-07:002008-08-02T22:00:21.944-07:00Oh, whither, internets.<table height="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0"><tr><td height="1"><embed src="http://www.myheritagefiles.com/video/N/28/sdyn52_47672983b35984t6v4xu52" width="340" height="340" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></td></tr></table><p><a href="http://www.myheritage.com" >MyHeritage</a>: <a href="http://www.myheritage.com" >Family tree</a> - <a href="http://www.myheritage.com/genealogy" >Genealogy</a> - <a href="http://www.myheritage.com/celebrities" >Celebrity</a><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIxNzczOTU3OTI5MCZwdD*xMjE3NzM5NjE4NzU1JnA9MTEwNTcxJmQ9bW9ycGgmbj1ibG9nZ2VyJmc9Mg==.gif" />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-27137182300903301182008-07-30T21:08:00.000-07:002008-07-30T21:11:24.022-07:00God Bless YouTube.We did lots of strenuous things today, and I am too tired to blog about them. Instead, I offer you this jewel of the internet. Enjoy it in good health.<br /><br />P.S. - Don't touch that! It's not the stereo.<br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFaXTcR4dtE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFaXTcR4dtE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-61432600406248231622008-07-24T19:46:00.000-07:002008-12-08T19:34:18.434-08:00what IS this blog about?I'm sure <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> don't know. Thus follows a series of photos, related only in that they were all taken by me, recently.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIk_I0nnk6I/AAAAAAAAAW4/ZH7yS2Av2eg/s1600-h/DSCF0646.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIk_I0nnk6I/AAAAAAAAAW4/ZH7yS2Av2eg/s320/DSCF0646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226778263336489890" border="0" /></a><br />I got a free phone, in a shameless attempt by AT&T to trick us into signing another two-year contract. Which we, uh, did. So I crocheted my new phone a phat cozy. Yes, phat!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Then the little lady wanted one.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlAjyV4g5I/AAAAAAAAAXA/kQ7r4SYHfAo/s1600-h/DSCF0655.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlAjyV4g5I/AAAAAAAAAXA/kQ7r4SYHfAo/s320/DSCF0655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226779826093327250" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">That phone came with her play kitchen. I adore it. ("2 Calls Today!")<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">**Non-existent Segueway**<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">For the first time, this week, I mustered up the courage to buy a can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. This is after years of wistfully musing in the Goya section, picking up the can, quietly admitting, "not today," and putting it back next to the mango nectar.<br /><br /></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlBpigzk8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/MnmiovHE1rE/s1600-h/DSCF0649.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlBpigzk8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/MnmiovHE1rE/s320/DSCF0649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226781024435016642" border="0" /></a><br />So far I have made several chipotle-flavored dips, chipotle pizza, and the pasta salad featured above. A warning - given the fairly bland nature of most commercial "chipotle" sauces (good evening, Subway), I totally did not expect actual chipotle peppers to be that spicy. In fact, I was mistaken. They are not vindaloo-spicy, or even San-Loco-suicide-standing-on-the-corner-of-2nd-avenue-pouring-<br />a-quart-of-milk-from-the-deli-into-your-face spicy, but they do pack quite a zing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What else could I blog about, you ask? Why, this tomato, of course.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlFDm1qCFI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/5PKTBjRRvwY/s1600-h/DSCF0665.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIlFDm1qCFI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/5PKTBjRRvwY/s320/DSCF0665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226784770807695442" border="0" /></a><br />It was our first. It took superhuman effort for N. not to eat it for the length of time it took me to take the picture. I am very proud.<br /></div></div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-33637229346165167762008-07-18T12:22:00.000-07:002008-12-08T19:34:18.626-08:00First Fruits<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIDt9NLSD7I/AAAAAAAAAWo/1xXSAMzPSnc/s1600-h/cucke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIDt9NLSD7I/AAAAAAAAAWo/1xXSAMzPSnc/s320/cucke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224437203514560434" border="0" /></a><br />Well, not completely - we have been grazing on the occasional peapod. But the first serious Product of Our Garden was picked today. We turned that cucumber and those basils into these delicious:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIDuNmnN6WI/AAAAAAAAAWw/aQkqDr3GQVA/s1600-h/cukesandy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SIDuNmnN6WI/AAAAAAAAAWw/aQkqDr3GQVA/s320/cukesandy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224437485220522338" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Princess Tea Sandwiches.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">1 small cucumber<br />several leaves fresh basil<br />cream cheese<br />four slices whole-wheat ciabatta<br />sprinkle curry powder<br />salt to taste.<br /><br />Oh indeed, summer. Well played.<br /></div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-68285589615746715262008-07-14T22:01:00.000-07:002008-07-14T22:03:38.189-07:00Hee hee hee.This is very sweet and funny. Takes a minute to warm up, but then it's giggles all the way...<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vso9iPIpeu8&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vso9iPIpeu8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-23169096352652324522008-07-13T17:25:00.000-07:002008-12-08T19:34:19.001-08:00The Frugal Stylist<div style="text-align: center;">So, the kid has been after one of these for months:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SHqdXWyVOqI/AAAAAAAAAWY/mkyF-d-F6dk/s1600-h/c8a0_1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SHqdXWyVOqI/AAAAAAAAAWY/mkyF-d-F6dk/s320/c8a0_1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222659742468749986" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Her best friend has one, and it is apparently a constant source of torture to her. Alas, they are running $40-50 on the ol' ebay (NMIB!! VERY RARE!!) So today, we went to W*m**t, bought $2 worth of purple "satin" and some $1.79 silver chain ribbon, and made this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SHqd9jfHwPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/rRpNGqNsDxA/s1600-h/giseledress.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hJXhc6chSOM/SHqd9jfHwPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/rRpNGqNsDxA/s320/giseledress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222660398712865010" border="0" /></a><br />with the indispensable help of my very crafty mother - she made the pattern and did all the tailor-y preparation stuff, and I hemmed all the edges and sewed on the silver trim. We also had to give Giselle a little trim, because the hair on the other doll is shorter, um, cleaner, and not ratty and full of debris from being dragged around everywhere. Yeah.<br /><br />So. Success - I feared a meltdown due to some missed detail or other, but it was more than acceptable to the client. I guess I'll carve the prince out of soap.<br /></div></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6615661665256077165.post-86101917241047330292008-07-11T22:35:00.000-07:002008-07-11T22:50:03.336-07:00Variety Pack One1. I filled a four-hour gig all by myself tonight, which surprised me. I reached all the way into the bottom of my song-bag, however, and eventually had to sing "Brown-Eyed Girl" in desperation. I also sang stuff by Taj Mahal and Duke Ellington though, so that's ok. Possibly. And of course, lots of songs by ME (now available at a digital retailer near you. "Ever get sick of my relentless plugging? Sure, we all do...")<br /><br />2. I transplanted two tomato plants today, and am really hoping they don't die. My quilt progress is somewhat stalled. I need to do laundry, and other domestic news items.<br /><br />3. Yesterday's Dialogue Between Me and My Child:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Child</span>: Momma?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: Hmm?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Child</span>: Momma?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: Yeah?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Child</span>: Momma, could we get a time machine?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: What would you want to use it for?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Child</span>: To make time go back and <span style="font-style: italic;">forth</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: We'll have to see.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13956351695545329759noreply@blogger.com0