Dear husband and I used to drink a lot of beer. One day we realized we need to not sit about our home in holey sweatpants drinking beer. We needed a hobby! So we got a hobby. We make beer.
Now, I realize that drinking isn’t always healthy. Drinking does have horrible side effects. For example, after about 3 beers I am under the overwhelmingly strong impression that I am a FANTASTIC singer.
We have, to date, made dozens of different types of beers and have made our own keg system with two taps. The left side tap is usually a great beer and the right side tap is reserved for the guests who enjoy lighter style beers. You know, the people who don’t seem to actually like beer they just must like to pee a lot (at least that is what I assume). Yes, I will judge your worth as a human being based on what beer you select.
Beer making is amazingly simple and there are many fine books on the subject which I’m far too lazy to site here. Last week we started a Fat Tire clone from Northern Brewer as this is somewhat of a happy medium. (Locally you can go to the Brew Master Store on Greer street for help and reassurance on your first beer) Brewing beer using an extract kit ordered from such a company is stupid easy, which is a good thing cause I would highly recommend having a beer while you brew your new beer. When the Fedex man delivers the box we scamper to the door like footy-pajamaed children on Christmas morning. It comes with simple instructions and everything is clearly labeled. Each kit makes about 5 gallons which comes to….well….a lot of pints of beer. If you enjoy beer and boiling water this is a hobby for you.
Hobbies are good. Hobbies keep you sane and centered. I firmly think that everyone should believe in something. Right now, I believe I’ll have another beer.
Behold the glories of the Guglhupf hot cross bun and other wonders of the confectionery arts. Shield your unworthy eyes from the rapturous carb-ridden goodness lest your face melt like in that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark!
This week’s outfit includes a very special accessory without which no ensemble could be complete. Not the pretty magnolias. Not the stompy boots (although those are fabulous). This week’s picture includes my wonderful spaniel/border collie mix Ellie. Her sweet and happy face could elevate any clothing from bleh to the heights of cuteitude. I might look somewhat dorky but with Ellie in the picture who cares about me?
The black fitted shirt is from H&M which reminds me that they have opened a store in Crabtree Valley Mall this spring. This isn’t in Durham but I will forgive H&M for this since they can provide me with very inexpensive clothing which (usually) fits over my head and only sometimes falls apart when I wash it.
I would wear that in a hot second
Any magazines that feature a story on how to love yourself at any size and then on the next page tell you how to loose ten pounds in two weeks should set off the bull-shit warning in the mind of any person who still has one or two neurons firing in their brain. Cosmo, Elle, Glamour. I dislike reading magazines that promote ugly, overpriced clothing, insipid designers and eating disorders.
The Gentlewoman is a new lady’s mag that premiered on March 22nd. The magazine is geared towards a retro-modern style with a witty sense of humor. A wide range of body types are used to model clothing in a mater of fact way. No special “Curves Issue”. No “We included some fatties just like you!”.
The first edition includes an article on vintage undergarments and one on napping. NAPPING! If this mag could provide me with cake as well I would declare it my new god.
Other great alternative magazines are Worn and Lula. Modern, intelligent, stylish women of mental substance deserve better than the puke fest offered by the mainstream magazines that call to us with their sirens songs whilst we are in the beauty parlor or sending in line at the grocery.
Another week of raiding the dear husband’s closet. It is his own fault for having good taste (which I am great evidence of). The white gauze cotton shirt is from somewhere in the Caribbean and the leather belt is from Wyvern Leatherworks. Nether one belongs to me. I do love that belt. I had no idea the whole outfit looked quite so…..pirate-y before I saw the pictures. That doesn’t bother me. I’m always up for a little quasi-historical drama in my clothing.
See a different view at Bloganistas
Being a human being with natural human likes, I enjoy pretty things. It is a human impulse to like things that glitter. Roman generals wore golden armor. Tutankhamens’s jewel boxes bulged. D’artagnan flaunted his diamonds and Pepys his gold edged cloak. Repressing the natural sparkle-encrusted tendencies in order to conform to some neurotic notion of propriety is wrong.
This is what I tell myself so that I don’t feel horribly shallow and vain when I lust after pretty things. These are a few of my favorite pins, brooches, hair clips, etc. Some of them are vintage, long term longs from my sister, some are gifts from my husband, one I got at the Ohio Ren Fair (yep, card carrying member of the dork club).
It is week three of my Bloganistas posting. This week I wanted to wear something slightly steampunk since this is a look I really enjoy although I have not gone so far as to buy a pair of brass goggles or rename myself Matilda Higgenbottom, Lady Adventuress. The skirt is actually my dear husband’s UtiliKilt and the vest is one of his black tonal stripe waistcoats.
The goal was to find something steampunk inspired but I could still run to Sam’s Quik Stop in it for all my beverage needs without garnering strange looks from the clerks there. Come to think of it, I don’t think the clerks at Sam’s would notice if I browsed the belgian section in a Little Bo Peep costume. I have never been there when the two dudes working (at least I think they both work there) weren’t in some heated and VITALLY important discussion about a movie that no one has ever heard of or about the merits of pop music (hint: it sucks).
You can see another view here.
I nearly went into an apoplectic fit of rapture recently when I discovered that my favorite store in the whole world, Anthropologie, is going to start a bridal dress/occasion dress department.
I usually glide across the cynical ice rink of life on high polished steel ice skates of snark but if there are two things I love in this world they are stylish clothing, wedding photography and pudding. Make that three things, but the first two are oh so neatly embodied in the announcement by Anthropologie. Since I am already married to my dear husband and have no need for another wedding dress I sincerely hope that I am lucky enough to shoot a few weddings with Anthropologie fashioned garments. Here is a blurb from Brides.com about the announcement.
I make no apologies for the vintage photo look
I enjoy using the word “exercise” in the same sentence as “fried foods”.
The dear husband and I went to eat at one of our favorite places, Fishmongers in the Brightleaf area of Durham. It is exactly the kind of place I like. They aren’t fancy and there is zero pretentiousness (what with the picnic tables with the butcher paper on them and what not) but the food is simply amazing. They have a huge range of different foods, although glorious fried foods do feature on the menu (at least that is what draws my eye). They also have a lot of great beers. I had my usual; fried scallops with french fries. Dear husband had the steamed platter (snow crab, shrimp, oysters or clams). He didn’t get fried food but I forgive him for this as he is otherwise a great person.
I’ve been really into the vintage photo look lately. If you don’t like the look of these pictures may I ever so politely suggest that you bite me.
I took a lot of pictures for this week’s Flickr group Bloganistas post. About 3 dozen. There were only four that didn’t make me look like an apple shaped bumpkin. In two I had one eye closed. In one my shoe had fallen off (never underestimate how difficult it is to move quickly in heels on slick wood floors). So here is the winner by default. This is what I wore to go out to Beyu and Whiskey’s this Saturday. I appreciate the fact that the bartender at Whiskey’s can read his customers well and knows to exclude the cocktail garnish to my Sidecar as it would only get in my way.
On the plus side, I do wear a hat with foppish aplomb