The holiday poundage is really starting to take its toll.
Dear to the heart of the pretty.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Wednesday Winston: Lambkins.
Here is Winston posing as my cat-stole.
He loves to be serviceable in this way, but only to me.
He knows he looks prettier around my neck than Jason's.
Sorry, Jase.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Wednesday Winston: Our Pipes are Frozen.
It happened. Two days without water and an indoor temperature of roughly 85 degrees is taking its toll on us.
Who else is ready for this week to be over?
Monday, December 05, 2011
I've been reading...
Jurassic Park and The Lost World by Michael Crichton.
I liked Jurassic Park. I've read it before and forgotten almost all of it and so decided to give it another try. It was exciting and a little graphic, a perfect expectation in a book filled with carnivorous dinosaurs. By the time I was 3/4 of the way through The Lost World, however, I had grown weary of the raptors slitting open various character's guts with their giant toenails. At times I would read a sentence, pause, and think, "Ew. That was disgusting."
Floating Island by Anne Parrish
This was a gift given to me by Koseli and I absolutely adored it. The story follows a family of dolls and their predicaments and adventures on "Floating Island" after an unfortunate shipwreck. First of all, the story is perfect. The dolls are hilarious (Mr. Doll especially!) and his various illustrations are so cute and ridiculous it made me giggle non-stop. Children, anyone? Read them this book.
Maus by Art Spiegelman
An amazing re-telling of a man's experience in the Holocaust in comic book form. It took me less than two hours to read it, and in that time I couldn't put it down. Absolutely stunning. Read it, if you haven't already.
Black Swan Green, Ghostwritten and Number9 Dream by David Mitchell.
David Mitchell is the master of character and plot switches. Black Swan Green was different than his other novels, though Mr. Mitchell incorporates some of his writing tricks into the plot (i.e. what on Earth is going on?) but successfully creates an astonishingly likable 13 year old boy as the protagonist. It's as embarrassing and heartbreaking as being a teenager again. Actually, more so, as this novel deals with coming of age, divorce, death, love, lust, bullying and integrity all in one smart little package.
Ghostwritten is an earlier novel and all the more astonishing for that. Each chapter is a different story, a different person, a different life, each intricately and surprisingly linked to one another. When I discovered yet another connection, I would think, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe she's her mother!!!!!" like the author had not been the one creating all these connections, but had stumbled across real people who just happened to know each other in the most unexpected ways possible. What's even more astonishing? There is a larger network of Mitchell characters linked from novel to novel. Simple idea? Perhaps. Genius? Absolutely.
Number9 Dream
This book explores the parallels of reality and unreality. It does this without further explanation to the reader, so be warned. The author tricks you often, and after a while, I felt my trust was diminishing. Was what just happened really happening? The first 4 chapters had me properly confused. And then the story fell together beautifully, and I was enchanted, as always.
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Lolita was all at once heartbreaking, hilarious, and entirely creepy. This fact was not helped by the fact that I am daily surrounded by children. Nabokov's writing is absolutely gorgeous, loquacious at times, scintillating and terribly funny. I took it in turns to be revolted by Humbert Humbert, and then understanding, and then completely sorry. It has been called one of the greatest love stories of all time, which seems strange considering its taboo relationship between a grown man and a thirteen year old nymphet. However, as far as Humbert is obsessive, truly devoted and absolutely pathetic when it comes to little Lo, I may make an amendment and say that this could be the greatest story of one-sided love of all time.
The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
Because of this book, I wish I knew more about Indian-Nepali history. On the bright side, I learned a lot. Achingly beautiful, ceaselessly sad. I finished the book and frantically started rifling through the acknowledgments in the hope that it had not ended. Alienation, family ties, war, romance, the past delicately woven into the present and of course, the ever smiling Mutt, this book was everything that I hoped it would be and more.
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
I love this book. I've read it before, but Jason and I have been listening to the audio version read by Martin Jarvis. Usually when I think of Dickens, I think of his unforgettable characters-- Miss Havisham, the Artful Dodger, Lady Deadlock, Mr. Skimpole, Pickwick, Uriah Heap-- they are unforgettable, of course, because they were formed by Mr. Dickens (and their names!! Such fabulous names). I forget, however, that Great Expectations, while sad, surprising and slightly creepy, is laugh out loud funny. Pip's commentary had me giggling from the beginning, and by the time Wemmick, The Aged and the Pockets came around, I couldn't suppress my laughter.
On another note, Martin Jarvis is fantastic, second only to Jim Dale. And anyone who knows me knows how much I love Jim Dale (POTTAH!!)
Upcoming reviews: People of the Book, Catch-22, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet, In Cold Blood, Everything is Illuminated, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Hard Times.
I liked Jurassic Park. I've read it before and forgotten almost all of it and so decided to give it another try. It was exciting and a little graphic, a perfect expectation in a book filled with carnivorous dinosaurs. By the time I was 3/4 of the way through The Lost World, however, I had grown weary of the raptors slitting open various character's guts with their giant toenails. At times I would read a sentence, pause, and think, "Ew. That was disgusting."
Floating Island by Anne Parrish
This was a gift given to me by Koseli and I absolutely adored it. The story follows a family of dolls and their predicaments and adventures on "Floating Island" after an unfortunate shipwreck. First of all, the story is perfect. The dolls are hilarious (Mr. Doll especially!) and his various illustrations are so cute and ridiculous it made me giggle non-stop. Children, anyone? Read them this book.
Maus by Art Spiegelman
An amazing re-telling of a man's experience in the Holocaust in comic book form. It took me less than two hours to read it, and in that time I couldn't put it down. Absolutely stunning. Read it, if you haven't already.
Black Swan Green, Ghostwritten and Number9 Dream by David Mitchell.
David Mitchell is the master of character and plot switches. Black Swan Green was different than his other novels, though Mr. Mitchell incorporates some of his writing tricks into the plot (i.e. what on Earth is going on?) but successfully creates an astonishingly likable 13 year old boy as the protagonist. It's as embarrassing and heartbreaking as being a teenager again. Actually, more so, as this novel deals with coming of age, divorce, death, love, lust, bullying and integrity all in one smart little package.
Ghostwritten is an earlier novel and all the more astonishing for that. Each chapter is a different story, a different person, a different life, each intricately and surprisingly linked to one another. When I discovered yet another connection, I would think, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe she's her mother!!!!!" like the author had not been the one creating all these connections, but had stumbled across real people who just happened to know each other in the most unexpected ways possible. What's even more astonishing? There is a larger network of Mitchell characters linked from novel to novel. Simple idea? Perhaps. Genius? Absolutely.
Number9 Dream
This book explores the parallels of reality and unreality. It does this without further explanation to the reader, so be warned. The author tricks you often, and after a while, I felt my trust was diminishing. Was what just happened really happening? The first 4 chapters had me properly confused. And then the story fell together beautifully, and I was enchanted, as always.
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Lolita was all at once heartbreaking, hilarious, and entirely creepy. This fact was not helped by the fact that I am daily surrounded by children. Nabokov's writing is absolutely gorgeous, loquacious at times, scintillating and terribly funny. I took it in turns to be revolted by Humbert Humbert, and then understanding, and then completely sorry. It has been called one of the greatest love stories of all time, which seems strange considering its taboo relationship between a grown man and a thirteen year old nymphet. However, as far as Humbert is obsessive, truly devoted and absolutely pathetic when it comes to little Lo, I may make an amendment and say that this could be the greatest story of one-sided love of all time.
The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
Because of this book, I wish I knew more about Indian-Nepali history. On the bright side, I learned a lot. Achingly beautiful, ceaselessly sad. I finished the book and frantically started rifling through the acknowledgments in the hope that it had not ended. Alienation, family ties, war, romance, the past delicately woven into the present and of course, the ever smiling Mutt, this book was everything that I hoped it would be and more.
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
I love this book. I've read it before, but Jason and I have been listening to the audio version read by Martin Jarvis. Usually when I think of Dickens, I think of his unforgettable characters-- Miss Havisham, the Artful Dodger, Lady Deadlock, Mr. Skimpole, Pickwick, Uriah Heap-- they are unforgettable, of course, because they were formed by Mr. Dickens (and their names!! Such fabulous names). I forget, however, that Great Expectations, while sad, surprising and slightly creepy, is laugh out loud funny. Pip's commentary had me giggling from the beginning, and by the time Wemmick, The Aged and the Pockets came around, I couldn't suppress my laughter.
On another note, Martin Jarvis is fantastic, second only to Jim Dale. And anyone who knows me knows how much I love Jim Dale (POTTAH!!)
Upcoming reviews: People of the Book, Catch-22, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet, In Cold Blood, Everything is Illuminated, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Hard Times.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Wenesday Winston: Home again, home again.
We have recently returned from a fabulous Thanksgiving in Nevada.
And beautiful Lake Tahoe.
And my lovely little niece, Lola.
And Bear, whose every song includes at least one person being run over by a dump truck.
We had so much fun with Sasha and her family, but after the long drive, we were happy to be home. Winston was positively frantic when we arrived, and hasn't stopped squeaking since. He has insisted on sleeping with his cheek pressed against mine, which would be cute if it wasn't so annoying.
Even so, it's nice to know you're missed.
And my lovely little niece, Lola.
And Bear, whose every song includes at least one person being run over by a dump truck.
We had so much fun with Sasha and her family, but after the long drive, we were happy to be home. Winston was positively frantic when we arrived, and hasn't stopped squeaking since. He has insisted on sleeping with his cheek pressed against mine, which would be cute if it wasn't so annoying.
Even so, it's nice to know you're missed.
How did you celebrate your Thanksgiving?
Monday, November 21, 2011
Happy First.
Jason and I celebrated our first anniversary on Sunday.
Since we have been married, it feels like time has been sped up, the days melting into one another imperceptibly. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall-- the seasons have flashed past us. Our accomplishments and achievements, our worry and fear, have all been fed into this growing and strengthening bond. Being married has changed both Jason and me, and both for the better. Together we can learn more, teach more, love more and achieve anything. In the blink of an eye, here we are; together a relatively short time perhaps, but still achieving milestones.
Since we have been married, it feels like time has been sped up, the days melting into one another imperceptibly. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall-- the seasons have flashed past us. Our accomplishments and achievements, our worry and fear, have all been fed into this growing and strengthening bond. Being married has changed both Jason and me, and both for the better. Together we can learn more, teach more, love more and achieve anything. In the blink of an eye, here we are; together a relatively short time perhaps, but still achieving milestones.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Wednesday Winston: Comfortable.
No matter where he is or what he is doing, Jason is Winston's seat of choice. In times when the lap is unavailable, his shoulder, chest, or even just a part of the arm or leg will do. I have witnessed Winston sleeping, half his body hanging off the couch, his top half nestled safely between Jason's knees, slumbering peacefully. I have seen the cat stealthily maneuver through piles of homework, mountains of books and mounds of blankets to ultimately curl up, purring, on some part of Jason, and promptly fall asleep. Just last night Winston cuddled up to Jason and wrapped his front legs around Jason's arm, his claws slightly protracted, as if holding him hostage. Whether this is relaxing to Jason or just uncomfortable I don't know. Nevertheless, day after day there they are, the unlikely coupling: the man holding abnormally still for the comfort of the little gray cat nestled by his side.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Monday, November 07, 2011
Happy birthday, Winsty.
Sometimes I get nostalgic for baby Winston. He was cute. And evil. But mostly just cute.
He's a lot fatter than he was, but he's still the same kitty, one year later.
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
The Little Russian
I have always loved Abravenel Hall. The glitter! The gold! The fancy old ladies in black silk dresses! The home of the Utah Symphony!
Jason took me to the symphony on our second date. This pleased me very much, but not as much as it pleased my mother. Never having been particularly partial to "piano banging," (her reference to long-winded instrumental concertos) she was delighted on my behalf that I had finally found someone who would escort me to these concerts, and perhaps appreciate them as much. "How romantic!" she exclaimed over the phone when I told her of my upcoming date, "he must be very sophisticated!" and I knew she was imagining Jason in a suit with a bunch of roses, talking animatedly of the dead classical languages and Pericles.
I love classical music, and my years playing in an orchestra have allowed me a slight familiarity with pieces and composers. I don't pretend to be at the height of musical sophistication. I have only shallowly skimmed the surface of musical depth. When Jason and I attended the symphony last Saturday, (Tchaikovsky's Little Russian) I couldn't even pretend to know the pieces that were played, mostly because none of them are in my Meditation library and I never played them in the Cache Valley Orchestra. And I am one who has, for years, deliberated between Dvorak and Tchaikovsky as my favorite composers. My favorites! And I haven't even heard, let alone know, all their pieces! Pure conceit.
The Little Russian was amazing. And when I say Little Russian, I mean the little Russian man with a short, blonde ponytail who played an astounding concerto on a shiny grand piano in the forefront of the Utah Symphony. There was a good deal of banging that my mother would not appreciate, but his light, airy fingers danced across the keys and my heart swelled, the way it always does when I hear beautiful music. He returned for an encore two.... three... four times. As my dad reflected humorously afterword, "maybe that's how it's done in Russia."
Then that is where they do things right.
Jason took me to the symphony on our second date. This pleased me very much, but not as much as it pleased my mother. Never having been particularly partial to "piano banging," (her reference to long-winded instrumental concertos) she was delighted on my behalf that I had finally found someone who would escort me to these concerts, and perhaps appreciate them as much. "How romantic!" she exclaimed over the phone when I told her of my upcoming date, "he must be very sophisticated!" and I knew she was imagining Jason in a suit with a bunch of roses, talking animatedly of the dead classical languages and Pericles.
I love classical music, and my years playing in an orchestra have allowed me a slight familiarity with pieces and composers. I don't pretend to be at the height of musical sophistication. I have only shallowly skimmed the surface of musical depth. When Jason and I attended the symphony last Saturday, (Tchaikovsky's Little Russian) I couldn't even pretend to know the pieces that were played, mostly because none of them are in my Meditation library and I never played them in the Cache Valley Orchestra. And I am one who has, for years, deliberated between Dvorak and Tchaikovsky as my favorite composers. My favorites! And I haven't even heard, let alone know, all their pieces! Pure conceit.
The Little Russian was amazing. And when I say Little Russian, I mean the little Russian man with a short, blonde ponytail who played an astounding concerto on a shiny grand piano in the forefront of the Utah Symphony. There was a good deal of banging that my mother would not appreciate, but his light, airy fingers danced across the keys and my heart swelled, the way it always does when I hear beautiful music. He returned for an encore two.... three... four times. As my dad reflected humorously afterword, "maybe that's how it's done in Russia."
Then that is where they do things right.
Bravo, little Russian pianist! Bravo!
The Great Pumpkin
Jason and I carved pumpkins last night.
It was my first time ever. And that includes kindergarten through sixth grade and countless single adult activities.
I find that with artistic endeavors I tend to get extremely impatient. In the end, my work inevitably turns into a sloppy mess-- a jumbled tangle of threads, colors spilling out from the lines of my picture. I had Winston in mind before carving this particular pumpkin--a Halloween cat, hissing and spitting with glowing orange eyes-- but when I actually had the thing in hand, I realized with mounting trepidation that it was to be more complicated than I had visualized.
Thus, this.
Which of these do you think is mine? I don't think it's hard to guess. Yes, a child is capable of doing what I have done to this pumpkin, but I was satisfied nevertheless. Satisfied to watch Jason carefully chisel away at his pumpkin for 45 minutes after I had finished mine. Satisfied to see how meticulously he cleared it entirely of debris, and carved out his drawn-on pattern. The result?
It was my first time ever. And that includes kindergarten through sixth grade and countless single adult activities.
I find that with artistic endeavors I tend to get extremely impatient. In the end, my work inevitably turns into a sloppy mess-- a jumbled tangle of threads, colors spilling out from the lines of my picture. I had Winston in mind before carving this particular pumpkin--a Halloween cat, hissing and spitting with glowing orange eyes-- but when I actually had the thing in hand, I realized with mounting trepidation that it was to be more complicated than I had visualized.
Thus, this.
A very hard to see but good looking pumpkin.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
I made another pillow.
This one has small winged creatures pouring tea into bright floral cups.
It's sloppier than my last pillow. I may have to re-do some stitches.
However...
It's sloppier than my last pillow. I may have to re-do some stitches.
However...
It has this detailing.
Perfect.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
At last.
Finally! The moment you've been waiting for (Koseli)... or I have, at least.
A tour of my house.
So fabulous.
I apologize in advance for the poor lighting. These pictures were taken with my phone, so they're not the best.
A tour of my house.
So fabulous.
I apologize in advance for the poor lighting. These pictures were taken with my phone, so they're not the best.
The Living Room
The red (polygamist??) door.
I wanted to capture the (swinging!) door into the kitchen, but the wood is so dark it is basically nonexistent in these pictures.
Winston knows how to use it. When we try to lock him out of the rest of the house, he always manages to escape through this door.
This mirror would not fit in our car when we drove it home, so I had to sit underneath it and steady the open door with my hands as we drove. It was worth it, I think. Only $40!
Currently our home is a nesting place for fake birds. I'm trying to curb and tame my obsession but I don't know if it's working.
Birds are here, here, here, here and here.
These little pottery barn jars retail at $40 each, and I got them for $10.
The Kitchen
Jason loves Williams and Sonoma's Cooking at Home. He's actually quite a good cook.
Winston loves sitting on the floor and looking melancholy.
My Parisian dessert plates.
We got our champagne glasses from DI (we have yet to use them) and my new favorite? Stemless goblets.
Bedroom #1
My assortment of children's classic literature that is much too dark to see.
My assortment of books facing the wrong way. Jason hates this. I love it.
Our very fluffy bed.
Another exciting DI find! The blue vase. $1.
My fighting bunnies.
We bought this little trunk from the DI for $25 and painted it.
I don't know what will go in here yet, but doubtless it will be something fabulous.
There are french doors going into our bedroom.
Trust me, this picture is prettier in real life.
Bedroom #2
The TV room.
This was supposed to be a "man cave."
It is not even close to being a man cave. See the colors? Sorry Jase.
There are many domed doorways throughout the apartment.
We got this couch from our neighbors. Stole it, in the middle of the night with a dolly.
My little sewing corner.
And all you need to know about the bathroom is this:
The floor! The glorious floor.
And maybe the towels.
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