scenes from a weekend
how do you do m'loves?
it was a weekend happy indeed. oh my goodness, i hope yours was too.
here's a glimpse of how mine went down:
i added a new rung to my wrist affair.
saturday night i had the honor of attending my lovely friend, jill grogg's, lululemon, ambassorship party. yoga, pilates, spin, boccaccini appetizers-you name it. the girl does it all! with incredible kindness, grace and beauty....it's amazing we're friends. in fact, i may have to drop her. there's just too much wonder woman going on in that tall-drink-a-water for me. and she really is that nice. i'm hoping, behind closed doors, she's a weirdo hoarder or wears the same socks for weeks.....but she always looks and smells fresh as april to me.
pfft.
on sunday morning david hockney returned to southern california. palm trees in jewel-toned green against a sky of bahamian blue, hunkiest and i brunched outdoors to soak it all in.
tea for him, coffee for me, and omelets of asparagus, artichokes, mushrooms & gruyère {mmm hmmm}.
post brunch binge, we walked off our glut with some shopping at one of our favorite stores.
new shoes for katie and hunkiest bought a shirt which brings out the golden in his eyes.
i must say, out of all the sunsets, shorelines and mountaintops in the world, this view beats them all for me.
okay, enough about me. tell me about YOU! how was your weekend? don't you KNOW how much i love hearing from you?
monday happy m'loves.
weekend happy and a message from the beast
priscilla was feeling a bit neglected from goodniteirene of late, and has a few things she'd like to say:
[vimeo http://vimeo.com/27314400 w =600 h=400]
there.
her voice has been heard.
satisfied, for now, she has retreated into her pocket of priestess where she plans her next business of monkey.
victories: priscilla= 367, mommy= 0.
signing off for the weekend m'loves.
the beast and i plan to shower hunkiest with kisses and .......errands.
what's in your filofax of fun?
see you on the other side of sunday.
love,
katie and priscilla
scenes from a weekend
determined to fashion my black thumb a new green dress, i stuck close to home this weekend, and spent most of my free time in the backyard garden. we're in the process of renovating our yard, but in the meantime..
the lavender is bouncy and spa-smelly.
my succulents look large, colorful, almost pre-historic.
a fancy accessory here and there {thank you lovely lex}.
and e'er a beast to always keep watch.
it was such a nice weekend until hunkiest and i decided to finally attack the pontiac that had been delivered to our front yard last friday. i'm not kidding; a box literally the size of a small sedan was set in the middle of our front yard. they couldn't deliver it to our doorstep, because there wasn't enough room.
our backyard patio furniture had arrived. and part of the deal of me buying said furniture was that i'd make the purchase sans white glove delivery service, and extra fee.
big mistake!
although my afternoon view wasn't bad, and we had several stomach cramping giggle fits {one involving a 2 minute hostage situation with a 20' umbrella and me inside}; i still would have paid the extra money for assembly.
'cilla supervised.
and then became bored.
tada! a glimpse of one chair and a side table.
as you can see in the back, it looks like i'm sitting kandahar. we have a long way to go: gravel, foliage, trees covering our neighbors beautiful wall. but for now we have a lovely seating arrangement.
it was definitely weekend happy.
homegirl
monday happy to you m'loves!
southern california had its first warm weekend in what felt like a decade.
the neighborhood bustled with the ringing bells of beach cruisers, the clinking of margarita tumblers, impromptu front porch, procescco parties, and the ever present, smoky, sweet aroma of a bbq, permeating our open doors from friday afternoon to sunday night.
glory! glory! awww-chew!!
yes, despite all the warmth and splendor around me i was sidelined with my first major cold of the season.
out. man-down. this was a knockout. friday night i slept a total of 16 hours only to wake up saturday morning exhausted and feeling hungover.
hunkiest and i laid very low, had to cancel dates, stayed in, and rented fabulous movies.
we diary'd our weekend happy en photographie:
hoodrats.
milkbraids for sick girls who hate washing their hair.
{and for flirting with hunky boys}
our back porch kept me busy and domestic.
i tended mr. basil and sassy lady rose,
and then attempted a taming of sally thyme and rosemary green.
all are welcome out back.
the toes got a fresh coat of pink.
we breakfasted on croissants and café au lait in honor of the french open.
for once, i saw the writing on the streets wall.
in hindsight despite the chills, headache, and runny nose......it was a perfect weekend.
my twelve stages of grief
shock.
tears.
depression.
rage.
insanity.
a bakery visit. or two.
public display of insanity.
a brief 'loss of time'.
more sweet and safe.
taking to bed.
finding the perfect anti-depressant.
beauty school dropout
if you looked in my bathroom drawers, you'd think i'd be a wizard at the sun-kissed face, the glossy lip and the come hither eye.
but i have neither the skills nor time to keep a post hotel du cap summer flush, or nights in black satin stare.
i could open a mini-sephora with the potions and lotions and serums i possess. parabens and free radicals be gone...if only i remembered to apply.
and for the locks? oh my.
such the sucker for fancy, if it smells like catalina and promises to take the japanese straight and stubborn out of my hair, i'm slammin' that amex down.
but to be honest my home hair products {shampoo included} haven't been touched in over a year.
i've come to rely on my gym for my hair needs. their locker room product is kiehls. which is probably higher brow than the stuff i have under the sink anyway.
hunkiest, sweet as he is, is always encouraging me to take an hour or two to lady it up at a spa; get pretty and pampered.
i'd take him up on it:
a) if i had the time
b) if i didn't get so antsy pantsy
the last time i had a spa day i became so anxious {with all the calm and quiet} i got sick from emotionally eating all the dried apricots in the meditation room.
i always forget: a dried apricot is AN apricot; just because they're tiny doesn't mean too many won't make you vomit.
my nails are shorty short, like a nervous 3rd grader's. when i paint them using colors from my paint box of acquired polishes, it looks like i let my beast priscilla hold the brush.
{actually i may let her, she is quite deft when i comes to certain things: reeses peanut butter cups, pillows, pink sweaters}
i go to the nail salon where i am always taken to task for my lack of length. i have girlish shaped hands, but apparently mannish sized nail beds.
i don't bite my nails, i just prefer them super short. less room for dirt, germs, or hurt.
my town is brim full of just blown out, peaches & cream complected, coral lipped, matching coral nailed beauties.
most of them, at the gym, looking like this, on stairmasters, as i type.
not overdone, not cartoon-bravo tv types either.
these lovelies are A+ students in the everyday school of beauty.
always doing their homework, never missing a class or chance for extra credit {bright lips for spring}, they are always flawless faced, hair'd, fingered and toe'd.
as for me, i enroll every new semester, buy my books and syllabi creams and lipsticks, but then drop the class two weeks in.
i'm a lazy student. i have the melasma and short nail beds for proof. i wear my silly hats and sunscreen and giant tom ford's which practically cover me down to my chin. that's where it ends.
tell me m'loves which category do you fall into?
thank you
i can't thank you enough for the messages, comments, calls and gifts. losing truman was such a shock.
he went to bed last saturday night with {what we thought} was the health of a pup. he definitely had the demeanor and show of dog with at least 3 or 4 years left. he woke up sunday morning, riddled with cancer, ready to die.
my o.c.d., my need to plan and prepare for everything, has been knocked out of alignment. like a disc that's been herniated, i crave to put everything back in its perfect, scheduled, peaceful, non-heartbreaking order.
bitch twitch, who had disappeared, is back with full vengeance. if i knew where and what my chakras were, i'm supposing they're scattered in different counties, hamlets and cays getting their spring break on on my dollar and peace of mind.
i will emerge from my blue. i always do. usually i just had truman to help me.
tru blue baby i love.....
"truman"
beloved boy
march 6 2000-may 24 2011
where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. i miss you like hell. ~edna st. vincent millay
twin sister! paging my twin sister!
come out, come out wherever you are!
alas billy goats, i don't really have a genetic duplicate....
can you imagine the world cheese shortage?
although i love the maggie q suggestions...
{well maybe not TWIN....more like distant, thinner, vietnamese cousin}
but if such genetic duplicate existed,
today i'd mortar and pestle my double into a fine, spreadable pesto, as we'd divide and conquer my whacked, over-committed day.
8 different places to be, two different counties, luggage to pack, beasts to feed and tangle with, and peeps who need to be squeezed and tucked.
i have another stab session with dr. sugar lips, and one big audition this morning.
fingers, legs, toes, eyes crossed that all goes well.
wednesday happy to you m'loves.
boo
hunkiest and i are convinced are house houses a ghost.
a friendly ghost albeit. non prone to spooking, hi-jinks, nor treachery.
but said ghost has bewitched our dear truman.
lately we've been finding truman in the most curious rooms of our abode, fixedly staring at nothing? .
we've learned to respectfully wait these private moments out. previous attempts to cull truman free from these trances only sends him right back in hours later, facing another blank wall with an earnest interest and puppy-like joy we haven't seen in the last 10 of his 12 years.
we've checked the house for pests...{just priscilla}, and we've checked truman out with the vet.
all is good.
we can only conclude 'tis a ghost.
evenings are its most active hours.
all night long ghost friendly and pal truman gambol and escapade in the deepest, most unused corners of our, now, creaky home.
spilling down stairs and tag-teaming 'round the den;
truman and his friend's rousing romper room inhibit even the household's heaviest sleeper {again priscilla} from shut eye.
we've even tried to lock our oldest, best behaved of all beasts ever owned, in at night;
but all that's left us with is a scratched up bedroom door, and a new impression of our so-called golden boy.
for now we endure the new night time capers.
yes, it's disruptive and gives to an occasional scare or startle.
but that bump in the night seems to have brought new life into my old fella t-man.
bring on the séances!
party people
i went to a birthday party this weekend. stag.
hunkiest was out town at party of his own; of a stag nature as well.
yet the naughty these boys seemed to have found was of whiskey and lack of bug spray like.
for all his clinker and glee as he packs up his shiny 9 iron and polished 3 wood, that boy never fails to ring home, like a kid sick at camp, wishing to be picked up early.
he asks me what the beasts are doing, as if by some miracle they've suddenly acquired a new, people, {opposable thumb requiring} skill since he left town.
um, they're doing math homework??!? they're sleeping of course!! that's what our beasts DO baby.
we count the days, sometimes hours until he walks back through the door to his "family".
silly, but it's the kind of thing that still has me plan outfits days before i see him.....my brain's always working on our next date.
although hunky and i do enjoy each other's smile, chat and smooch, one of our strongest suits is our ability to hang separately.
at my party, the beautiful birthday girl wore a sash of pink and a tiara of tinsel;
i walked in knowing few and left loving many.
i wrapped my heart around a freckled girl with amber hair, who sat for hours with a strawberry taking each and every single seed off the pretty fruit; just because it felt scientific. she was sweeter than any candy colored cupcakes we ate together.
i ate a cobbler baked with berries and i felt a baby boy, who although won't officially be here until june, make his party presence felt in his momma's stomach.
a grand time had by moi'...and i couldn't wait to ring up my beloved and share.
overserved
i think truman enjoyed his st. patrick's day a little too much.
weekend happy to you m'loves.
march
true to form, monsieur march came in like a lion;
surly and base, big paws swiping madly in the air.
agile as a cat, i luckily avoided any pops or scrapes to the face and bod.
silly little lions can't knock me down;
i'm always ready for a nice tangle and scrap.
scratch that. not true. pants on fire.
i HATE confrontation.
i'm quite the chicken.
cluck. cluck.
i'd rather hold my tongue than rumble.
my legs have a nice cozy spot for my tail.
but with all the bumps and barnacles i must share what else march has tendered:
homemade key lime pie.
mumford and son's tickets.
this year's first bloom of my jasmine plant.
a friday evening of french cuisine and friends.
new screen doors throughout the house.
a family dinner.
new bedroom furniture.
my dad's birthday.
my mom's beautiful smile.
spin and pilates students giving me goosebumps with their dedication.
blog posts making me cry, scream with laughter, and happy dance {sometimes all at once}.
my beasts discovering the art of spooning.
plum blossom bath soap.
pink nails.
hunkiest.
and finally the privilege of talking to you m'loves.
thursday happy to you!
go ahead. call animal services....
but last week's vet check-up was not pretty.
truman is "fat".
priscilla is not svelte.
a soundtrack of shame booms throughout the house.
we are headed back to the ranch.
priscilla insisted i take a before picture.
wish us luck.
my girl
man she can boil her mama's blood.
nary a lass to nail naughty like my priscilla.
she is my high priestess of highjinks.
'cilla's latest nonsense involves a box of dryer sheets and a 3 minute lag in supervision.
needless to say she {and her internal organs} are smelling april fresh.
i've succumbed to leashing her at all hours...much like those moms who tether their children at the mall.
{i'm one hamburger helper purchase away from collegiate sweats and a scrunchy}
but on a dime she can shift my temper tame.
gaga even.
this crazy girl whom i found on the side of the road.
cracking my heart wide open, pulling it wall to wall, ceiling to floor.
a white blank page
white blank page.
clean slate.
excuse me miss, but do you sell disinfectant for my brain?
something to comet and pine sol the doubt and bitten lip memories loitering in my head.
rejections of ...... the way life used to be.
the jolly and jolt of acting is losing its luster with each no and not right.
telephone silence slashing and slicing into my ever diminishing kettle of pluck and nerve.
BUT
don’t mistake me for dreary or bleak; the opposite rather.
yesterday was a task in wrangling my inappropriate giggle fits.
and each hour i'm given moments so hallmark it's amazing i don't walk around in a 24 hour cycle of blubbering ado.
a phone call with my aunt char, edith piaf at a cafe', a sparkly beret on ella, bird of paradise in morning yoga, a woo-hoo from one of my spin students, feeding the hungry, twirling, howling beasts, texts from my dad, dinner with my 'family', a kiss goodnite from my hunkiest.
a deluge of delights flooding my life.
shame on me if i choose not to recognize them.
so for now i've scoured the deep cornices of my cerebral cortex.
clogs, snags, hindrances begone!
at least until tomorrow....{a girl knows her limits}.
click image for source
priscilla versus the pillow
this round went to priscilla.
at least have the decency to leave the scene of your crime?!
in the end, the real loser was mommy;
i loved that effing pillow.
bitter
batshit crazy = me.
five of our smoke alarms decided to lose their juice last night starting at 1:38am.
not to take up all my time at once, each alarm politely waited 45 minutes in turn {once i had re-ensconced myself back into bed} to SOUND their hair curling screech screech.
the beasts tried to runaway to the nearest kill shelter; absolutely worthless in courage and pluck. they both have appointments with psychiatrists this morning: priscilla is binge eating and cutting herself, and truman is maniacally rocking back and forth, sucking his thumb.
i'm taking today one hour at a time; spoonfuls of coffee grounds into my mouth for energy.
i pity the fool who pisses me off today.
oh, and honey if you're reading this......really, really, really hope you're having a good time on the pebble beach bachelor party. last night was super fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun; so sorry you missed it....
.