Sunday, Puppy Sunday: we must insist that you takeses us seriously. For realz.

Mama made cuppy cakes Friday/Saturday, and some certain little furballs played her heartstrings and she had to share the meringuey frosting. It does stick on those little whiskers with such remarkable efficiency!

the local talent

went to see blues band Saturday night with friends from work. Was very nice. I even kicked my heels up a wee bit. Had a nice time. :)

nifty things...

Shabby chic is overdone to the point of homogeneity these days.

Not so, primitive grubby or primitive grungy, the likes of which may be found at Twine's site for labels and such.


LOVE the look of these things. I think I've gotta have some!

My dad's friend got gas for $1.67 in Dallas this week.

I was talking to Dad on the phone and he told me about the cheap gas. I figured it was some promotional gimmick and even though I'm not in the neighborhood, I thought it would be worth knowing where some cheap gas might be found.

Really? Wow. Where was it?


Came the response: Taco Bell.

He laughed so hard, very proud of himself for reeling me in on that one.

ZING!

Pretty girl turns into gremlin

Zucker film Rat Race is side-splitting. Good, therapeutic laughter.


And then there are the endearing bits with the delightfully guileless character played by Rowan Atkinson. Cockdoggies!*

*cocktail weenies

When anal bleaching is a bridge not quite far enough:

I do not think that word means what they think it means.

Lancome had ads yanked for airbrushed photos. Since when is that surprising, seriously??? You know how we knew the photo was airbrushed? Her mouth is closed. :P

Sympathy for the Dauphine

I continue to recover from recent under-the-weatherliness, so I've been staying in and resting. It's amazing to consider that it was 4 short [or long] years ago that this very type of lingering illness resulted in a bout with pneumonia, the second week of August spent in hospital and fighting for my life. So... I'm being still and quiet, not taxing my immune system. I've been watching lots of movies. The puppies love movie time, so it's a great joy to snuggle with them, and that's the best therapy of all. :)

Last night I watched Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, a film nothing short of breathtaking, visually. Not yet 15 when the Austrian girl was wed to the Dauphin to cement the bond of Austro/Franc relations, there was much hope and expectation hung on her young shoulders. She was, essentially, set up for failure, and was the victim of a lot of bad-- often untrue-- public relations. Even knowing this, I expected to find her unsympathetic in this film which does not seek to dull the varnish of what was, admittedly, a most decadent and self -indulgent life. I ask how M.A. could have been other than she was? She was given a narrow set of cattle bars within which to function, and mode of attire was pretty much the only refuge of self expression left to her. For all this, Kirsten Dunst's portrayal was neither vapid, nor insipid. I thought of how frustrating were the circumstances of her life, even before all that Revolution unpleasantness.

The film perfectly conveys how wholly divested of national identity she was, literally, at the handover, a ceremony at the border of France and Austria in which she is made to don only French things, leaving behind all her Austrian maids, her clothing and even her little pug dog. (Nooooooooooes!) She did win some admirers early in her years in France, but she quickly became a convenient target on which to hang a lot of the angst of an increasingly restive French populace. Their social unrest was a festering morass of toxins looking for any thinning of membrane through which to busrt forth, and such a public outsider was very convenient. Courtly society was no kinder, either. Even as she endured vicious prodding and social torments for failing to produce an heir for the first 8 years of her marriage, M.A. was frequently goaded in missives from her mother in Austria that the fragile balance between the two nations was pretty much her entire responsibility, and surely it was all her fault for not having gotten pregnant yet. What a hellish cocktail of pressures that must have been.

I don't know if Himself would have enjoyed watching it (though I'm sure he would have gallantly tried not to nod off had I asked him to watch with me), but this movie is pretty girly. The colors are splendid, the textiles are superb. The chefs who prepared the period food for the film did a spectacular job. (Come to that, I've never eaten a maccaron, and I'm LONGING to have a big plate of them around at my next party!) The shoes were divine, and I think you probably could fill a stadium with the worms it took to produce the miles and miles of silk used for the costuming.

The film is well worth having a look at for the distinction that it is the one motion picture that France has allowed to be shot in and around the grounds of Versailles, and at Trianon and le Petit Trianon. Charming and beautiful, if you like a visual feast, you'll love this film.

Yummy.

Don't hate be because I'm bootie-ful.

I know I show you shoes all the time that cost oodles of cash and in truth, even though I wantses them, Precious, I usually don't succumb to the temptation. I suppose festooning my blog with these pretties is a proxy thrill and I don't have to go through the painful prospect of spending a weeks' wages or -- HORRORS! -- more, on such lovely shoes.

I'm afraid I really have to have Vince Camuto's Suni wedge bootie, though. Me love them. LONG. TIME. These ping all my footie thrill meters with their mega-watt features. Nice leather. Lots of nicely cross-hatched laces. Wedge heels. TALL! 4" with 1/2" platform. Sweet!!! Plus, if I didn't already completely justify their purchase, they'll be just so with a steampunk ensemble I'm making for myself. *SQUEEE!*

Now, laugh all you want at this platform silver disco bootie, but I really, really really would like to have these, too. Jeffrey Campbell "Lita" booties. Even the name is one letter off from being made for me.

Alas, though, I already have a pair of silver platform oxfords in my collection, so I'm sort of covered.

OTOH, if a rich relative I don't know I have should up and leave me oodles of dosh in the very near future (i.e., ain't gonna happen), I would definitely buy this shoe in, oh, several colors.

In truth, though, I'll settle for the tamer, more reasonable version of reality with those wedges up top. YUMMY!!!

call me a big old unsophisticated goober, but...

...isn't air travel so incredibly amazing? We spend a lot of time talking about the tediousness of the TSA and all the dehumanizing baloney at the airports, but golly, it's just so incredible that you can get on a plane and enjoy drinks and movies and lots of audio channels and emerge some hours later on pretty much any spot on the planet. And for all the jerks (doing their job or not) who make the process more unpleasant, there are a lot of nice, decent folks who do work in the industry who enjoy their jobs and want to be a help to people.

I love the wrap-up from this flight attendant, and if I ever fly again, maybe Batman and Robin will be piloting the plane then, too. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: On The Matter Of Victory Laps

Can any worldly event excel the stately grandeur and majesty of a wiener-dog race? Well, probably, but I don't want to hear about that right now because they are so darned cute! I want you to focus your attention on the long-haired blonde dachsie and what it does after crossing the finish line:



Just because you didn't come in first doesn't mean you shouldn't treat your sassy self to a victory lap. Here's to kicking up one's heels, wind running through your hair, tongue hanging out.

may her troubled soul find peace.

I loved her music, however scattered and desperate she seemed as a person.



Amy Winehouse R.I.P.

...and I thought Himself had exaggerated.

Himself has many times regaled me with fashion horrors that come in to court, their offenders ostensibly hoping to make a favorable impression on the judge. There have been mentions of tank tops festooned with vulgar text, including worn by the mother of the accused.

A couple weeks ago, I had business to attend at the county courthouse. I don't mind going to the Courthouse, and I always see some nice S.O. personnel I know, but it's just that the office I had to go to was reached by the same elevator that goes to the courts.

Stopping on one of the court floors on the way down, a woman got onto the elevator in heels, hotpants and what I can only imagine was her very best eye-buzzingly yellow tube-top, big cheap-assed hoop earrings you could drive a tour bus through, and one 5 or 6 year old boy in tow.

Not judging, youse understand, but except for the puzzlement of the presence of the child, I rather wondered if she had just been sprung on prostitution charges or some such.

Apparently not. The paper in her hand said she was in court filing for child support.

Goodness.

Wherein a pink gorilla figures prominently.

Found this little video of American Surrealist painter Todd Schorr discussing his technique for his mind-bendy pop art abstractions.

After a record year for snow-pack

Yosemite has been enjoying record post-card moments with all its waterfalls gushing more than most people can ever remember seeing. The water table is at a 5-decades peak, too.

Look at the video below, and see how close to the guard-rail area the water is actually gushing, and then consider that someone crossed the railing and waded into the water about 25 feet from the Vernal waterfall there yesterday. Two would-be rescuers went in, too, and all three went over the edge. I don't think you'd have to be a rocket-surgeon to surmise that getting your feet wet here is not a good idea.


I know people aren't very smart, but sometimes it's really disappointing how not-smart they are.

guilt-free pleasure: Partners Tea Co. zelda tea

Goodness gracious, look at yourself! You're hot and sweaty, and this brutally hot summer is just wringing all the life out of you. Matter of fact, the one place on your person that's dry is your mouth. You need something nice to drink to cool you off. We should all have tea, forthwith. I demand tea!

I drink tea every day. In true Southern fashion, I tend to prefer plain-jane black iced-tea, unsweetened, no lemon, thank you very much.

In that special way that no one's meatloaf tastes as good as Mom's, I don't like the way anyone sweetens tea except Mom and Grandma Smith. Everyone else just doesn't get the balance right, so I prefer not to exasperate my palate with poor imitations which merely hint at the grandeur of refreshment the perfectly sweetened tea affords..

Himself has turned me into quite the hot tea fancier, though, and my tea horizons have broadened fantastically. Wednesday night he treated me to a few tins of a new favorite: zelda tea by Partners Tea Co.

While his taste runs more to Assam black tea, I'm very fond of the glorious bergamot flavor of Earl Grey tea. Thus does zelda delight with flavors of Earl Grey, jasmine and rose petals. They call this a morning tea, but I couldn't resist a soothing cup of it last night as we watched a DVD. In winter, I like heavy, cream-addled teas like Masala Chai, but this tea was lovely with a hint of demerara sugar and no half and half or cream, making it a perfect summer tea.

One thing I've enjoyed recently is throwing a bag of one of my flavored teas in with the classic Luzianne brew for my iced tea. Lately I've been putting a bag of my precious, diminishing stash of Peet's Winter Solstice tea in with each pitcher of iced tea. I'm also loving that cold brew available from Lipton because you don't have to wait for it to cool down to enjoy, and it "brews" relatively quickly. OTOH, the cold brew is not so intense a tea, but I find it marvelous. I think with a bag of zelda thrown in, I'll have found my perfect summer tea.

I like my tea cold and bitter. Unless you're fixing a toddy for me when I'm under the weather, please don't put mint anywhere near my tea, and only when accompanied by generous doses of honey and medicinal spirits. *aherm* Just a thimble full, of course.

Oh, and I can't tell you why, but iced tea tastes best drunk from a mason jar. Just make sure you get one with a big enough mouth. :)

Tree ferns with a Currawong chorus *insomnia post*

So I woke up about 4am and after laying in bed for nearly an hour, I came in to look up things on my Ausralian Tree Fern which I've given up on keeping outside. I brought it in last night in hopes of saving the plant. Then I found this video:



I found this other video with the unusual birdsong of Currawong (or Kookaburra), which is apparently the Australian Raven. What handsome beasties!


Merry merry king of the bush is he.

Mom sang me the Kookaburra song when I was a little kid. It's funny that I remember her singing so much, because she is very shy of singing in front of people. But I guess with us, as little kids, she was comfortable to sing, and she was always tuneful and made me fall in love with many a melody.

Fabulous sewing/costume resources

Looking for the pattern for a Korean Han-Bok or an Edwardian swimming costume? How about a Rosie the Riveter costume? I know where you can go for that.

I think I purchased my first pattern from Folkwear about 15 years ago, and they have a nice selection of period and regional costume patterns.

I've purchased quite a bit of fine fabric at Kay's in Richardson, but I couldn't find them a couple months ago when I drove down Arapaho-- I hope they have moved and haven't closed? I've not seen their equal when it came to fine fabrics. If you know where they are now, I'd love to hear about it.

One bright spot looks to be the great selection at Fabrique, also in Richardson. I haven't been there yet, but I love the quality of what I've seen online, and their laces and trims look superb. :)

After I posted that bolt of silk dupioni a couple weeks back, you may have surmised I've gotten the sewing bug of late. I'll let you know as things progress. :)

Happy birthday, Dad!

Still adorable!

Vanessa

Vanessa by Grimes



lovely, ethereal vocals

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: constant companions

Convalescing on the sofa, there's nothing more restorative than sweet, snuggly little furballs.

Down the cinematic rabbit hole

I had a Netflix account for about 5 minutes, once, but I really don't have a lot of time to watch movies, so I deactivated it for more than a year. Recently, I wanted to watch something and found it was available streaming on Netflix, so I reactivated the account and watched, happily. I thought how convenient and nice it is to be able to call up any of thousands of films to watch instantly, though my tastes generally run to those of foreign/arthouse extraction which must be ordered on DVD.

Still feeling sicky and not up to much physical activity, I decided a quiet Friday evening mit puppehs on sofa watching film was in order. I didn't watch Netflix, but a DVD has been languishing unwatched for a while that I must have picked up in a bargain bin somewhere. Touted to be Dario Argento's masterpiece, I knew Suspiria would be memorable, if nothing else.

In this film, a plucky young American arrives at a ballet Academy in Europe and quickly surmises thangs ain't right-- the academy is staffed by a coven of witches! The coven has enjoyed 100+ years of functioning on the down-low, and they would have gotten away with it, too, except for that meddlesome Suzy, à la Scooby Doo.

Here I must to throw out a disclaimer about my tastes in film. The films I cite as favorites are generally not the Hollywood favorites where the guy gets the girl and the monster is killed and the human race is saved from menaces of alien/foreign/subterranean extraction. What generally will make me a sucker for a film is if the costumes and textiles in the film are period-correct and of a sufficiently fine quality that when-- coupled with good set design, makeup and lighting-- I feel like I'm peering into a postcard from another time and/or place. Films that win high marks with me on this score are "Sense and Sensibility" and "Henry and June." S&S did have a happy ending, but H&J was a bit of a drip-fest, in truth. Still, the sumptuous circa 1931 costumes(oh! the shoes!) coupled with top-notch casting redeemed the whole thing. Throw in Fred Ward and Uma Thurman along with that Portuguese cupcake who made blueberry pancakes sound erotic in Pulp Fiction*, and I'm all over that! The cherry on the sundae is the sublime Richard E. Grant, for once playing an earnest rather than comic turn. He was the one truly sympathetic character in the film, and one's heart broke for him. It was a downer, but visually riveting. The acting was superb, as well, so, worth seeing once, if you can stomach that variety of drama.


Stylistically, there is a lot to love about Suspiria. There were quite a few design elements which highlighted the 1970s fondness for art-deco and art-nouveau flourishes and there is no doubt about which decade birthed the film. One early scene in the film finds our heroine in Olga's apartment in which the walls are fairly crawling with intricate black-and-white wallpaper. I expected the wallpaper to come alive and swallow the room and all its occupants, but alas! Twas not to be. The hair, costumes and makeup were redolent of the better of 70s style, so high marks on that score, Dario!

Speaking of Olga-- what happened to her? At first Suzy was rooming with her at her apartment and then the dance maven arranged for Suzy to move into the dorm setting and Olga pretty much dropped out of sight. Barbara Magnolfi was actually very interesting as Olga, and I was sorry there was not more development of her character. She's a good actress and would have been fun to watch teamed up with Suzy, poking about hallways and kicking some coven ass. But I digress.

The music was appropriately menacing and much better than average for this film. The film was not overly reliant on the cheap-shot of sudden shocking noise events that make you jump in your seat, a quality for which I was most grateful. I have to say again the soundtrack was quite well-scored and was the most elegantly rendered aspect of the film.

There are allusions to attractions and sweet interactions between the ingenue and other characters, but very little of that is developed in the film. There is definite tension between Suzy and a young man, and other characters comment upon same, but she and the young dancer never share a moment-- a bit unlikely, considering the murky stew of hormones, narcissism and needy insecurities for which such creative environments are well-known. Even Suzy's sweet politeness to the house Frankengoon** never pays off to stay his cruel hand later in the film and that's just mean, isn't it? I wish a little more had been made of these interactions and slightly less yards of film spent lingering on design details of the set.

Pas de goo. Oh, and dancing? There were a couple of fleeting dance studio scenes in the film, but very little that tells what a demanding practice regime such academies institute. The dancing seems merely a brief side-detail, and I think a lot more could have been made of that aspect. Anorexic, mind-clouded with over-exertion, ballet dancer dreams up a house of horrors at the institution where she is imprisoned, ever the slave to her art? That's just me. Don't listen.

And the scene of the chick wallowing about, screaming in the miles of un-spooled coils of wire-- was that supposed to be razor wire? If so, why wasn't she cut to ribbons? If it wasn't razor wire, why didn't she just get up and climb out of it? Clearly, she was mentally unwell.

I think if you are a horror film fan and/or 70s cinema in general, you should definitely watch Suspiria at least once. As for the gore-level, there were a few truly grisly scenes, but I also saw the film described as having one of the most gruesome murder scenes in all of film and I have to say that whoever said that had clearly not seen Hostel***. I think this film is a bit of a missing link between the churning, burning suspense and angst of the (beloved!) Hammer Films era to that of the modern horror fest.

Now the rabbithole: off on link-chasing from details online of Suspiria, I popped into Netflix and watched more 70s cinema of which I'd never heard. One of them was so bad I won't even name it, but I finally gave up in disgust. Yes, it is possible to exasperate even me to that degree.

Lesson learned: some film is relegated to the vault of the forgotten because it is forgettable, but Suspiria is definitely worth a look.

*Maria de Medeiros
**can't remember his name?
***WHICH I would strongly urge against seeing

Ice and fire

It's so incredibly, miserably hot lately, so I wanted a reminder that this, too, shall pass, and we'll be freezing our tails off in a handful of months. Right now, though, that seems forever away.

a little bit loopy.

I'm on an antibiotic to hopefully knock out the infections, but they gave me a cough syrup called Promethazine DM and they told me it can cause drowsiness. I pretty much snorted when they told me that, because I've never noticed much drowsy-making effect on stuff in the past.

SURPRISE!!!

I was working this afternoon and my throat got scratchy-ticklish, so I downed a little bit of the stuff. Guess what? DROWSY!

I called my supervisor and told him I was going to wrap up my affairs for the day and go to bed. He said I sounded "looped." I am certain he was not exaggerating. I felt dull-witted, not just physically slow.

Anyway - this medicine is either very, very good or very, very bad. I had a bit of a rough time sleeping trhough the night last night. I wish I'd thought to take a bit of this stuff. Hmm. ALmost bedtime now. Now where did I leave that spoon?

pretty Bastille Day fireworks display

on the mend... in which I live up to the sobriquet.

Turns out the tonsil infection was spawned by a sinus infection. The doctor had a young resident with her and asked if I minded if she showed the resident the back of my throat. "See how the tonsil is covered in pus?"

I couldn't leave that one alone. I said "so, I'm pretty much constantly swallowing pus right now?"

Her face was awash in disturbed bemusement. "well, yes."

I pulled face as I said "um, yummy."

They both laughed.

I'm on some antibiotics and told not to do anything strenuous for several days. And maybe not work so much overtime.

I'm thinking I'll be a slacker and only work 8 hour days Thursday and Friday, and then I'll set about a furious spate of layabout reading and videos.

Feeling better, already. :)

Enigma of the Absolute

by Dead Can Dance from the 1986 album Spleen and Ideal.

Sicky.

I'm sicky. I woke up Tuesday with my right tonsil all swollen and painful. I felt better as the day wore on, but still generally felt vaguely craptastic. Going to the doctor today. Goody.

you, too, can wear woolly mammoth!

I admit I'm fascinated by this jewelry setting of a piece of fossilized woolly mammoth by Monique Pean.

pretty music

My yoga teacher has this song in the mix for class sometimes. It's really pretty and soothing. I looked it up and someone made this video for it which I thought I'd share. It also seems to have been used in one of the McEclipse productions. Anyway, I hope you like it. :)

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: technical difficulties

I've tried several times to no avail. Maybe this post will work.

NOT uploaded from my iPhone, btw.

First responder.

I probably shouldn't admit this, but I actually was the first responder to a poll online, to my utter shock. I was looking up roadkill, because sometimes I'll see a dead fox on the road and I was looking up stuff you could do to salvage the fur and whatnot and a whole bunch of links came up, and there was this poll, see?

Anyway, I didn't really give it a lot of thought or I would have realized that I HAVE eaten venison harvested by dad's Mercury some thirty-some years ago. Anyway. If something's freshly dead and not ruined and is perfectly good meat you would have eaten anyhow, why not eat it, right? I admit I drooled a bit at the sight of the glorious backstrap harvested from the buck that killed AD's radiator, that time, so why not, right?

Anyway, here it is:

I'm not proud, but there you have it. A dubious distinction, at best. Guess how I answered??? :P

So I was talking to my friend Lin. I told her about seeing the fox on the road and how it's a shame the fur will go to waste and that I wondered about curing the hide. She said she came across a freshly dead skunk for a relative once, and she called up a leather worker she knew who specialized in chaps and gear for motorcyclists and she asked him about how to, er, harvest the hide without disrupting the unholy stink that lay within. The friend, a Frenchman, said "yoo 'ave to cot arrround zee asshoule."

I said "those are words to live by." Seriously. Asshole in your path? Cut around the asshole. Skinning out a dead, musky varmint? Cut around the asshole. Rinse, lather, repeat.

If you are a comic book fan...

...you'll want to do yourself a favor and check out Covered, a blog featuring modern artists re-imagining comic book covers, both modern and classic.

Good stuff!

breakthrough yoga moment #1:

During a stretch, my nose nearly touched my right knee tonight.

Then I squoze my boob in another direction and my nose touched my knee.

YAYS!

good friends, good times and warm fuzzy feelings.

This region of Texas has been freakishly hot this year, and thus my Great American Hovel has been pretty hot as well. We had our first 110 degree day in early May, and I think we've more than 50 in a row at this point of days over 100 degrees. I'd resigned myself to trying to be happy if the house was a mere 20 or 25 degrees cooler than the outside. Dear friend Matt G declared this would not stand. He knew a way to make it not so.

Last weekend, Matt G and AEPilotJim came to town and helped insulate the attic. They got into town Friday night and they and Himself sat up talking into the wee hours and I finally dragged myself and the pups off to bed about 1:30 or so. I don't know how late the fellows stayed up, but they got up about 5:30 to start working on the house. Coffee was made. I wanted to stay in bed, but decided it would be weasely of me to have a lie-in while they were doing all that hot, sweaty work in the attic. I went to fetch breakfast burritos, and they were good and done with the insulation task well before 8:00 AM.

Matt actually said the attic was pretty cool, because there was an attic fan and no proper ventilation to do anything except pull all my lovely conditioned air from the house's interior into the attic. I was impressed by how quiet the machine was, and it was amazing to see the long, intestine-like ropes of tubing with the fluffy bits pulsing through like some big vascular system as it wended its way into the attic. I should have taken a video of that-- it was really neat.

Himself and Jim manned the insulation hopper and Matt was up in the attic blasting away. The first 16 bags took less than 1.5 hours to install. Mind, Matt's done this a few times before. After the insulation was installed, Matt installed some gable vents so some air could flow in and out without being hoovered up from the house's interior. Then he put together a very nice little plug for the spider hole into the attic.

I started a brisket out front in the morning and made a cake, because I figured the least I could do would be to provide some rib-tickling eats. Despite sweating buckets, I think no one lost weight, and I'm okay with that. :)

I'd bought 16 bundles of Atticat insulation at Homedespot(buy more than 10 and the blower rental is free), and I ended up buying a few more. I have gone from about 1"-3" of insulation throughout the attic, to a uniform 16". They all worked tirelessly and now my house is actually cool.

But the coolest thing of all is when a good friend does something unexpectedly that is extremely kind and helpful, asking nothing in return. I confess I'm amazed these folks would come all this way, take time to do this for the mere sake of helping a friend. I'm humbled, truly I am.

Thanks so much, guys. You are dear, golden friends, and I love you!

I think the puppies want me to have these shoes.

Seriously. Don't they look incredibly sensible?

I knew you'd agree.

When I think of all the odd colour combinations I have in the shoe collection, I can honestly say I don't have a single pair of gray/yellow/green shoes. Don't you think it's time we correct that gap in the collection?

How very wise of you to say so. I commend your exquisite taste, darling!

Fluevog.

Oh, and for the fellows with Steampunk tastes without the bespoke budget - Fluevog has some incredible shoes that would look right smart on a dandy fellow catching the next dirigible out of town. Just sayin'.

miles and miles of silk!

...hmm... most excellent threadbanging fodder!

from the unintentionally funny files...

Goofing off as one does, I was looking at RVs on ebay Monday and saw a thumbnail of this camper. The house in the background looked like it was part of the camper. I glanced down the column of photos and my eyes were drawn back up to that one, as I wondered how they fit all that mess under overpasses and such.

Hyuk!

Happy July 4th!

Sunday, Puppy Sunday: more puppy sofa action

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I can't remember where I found this, but I LOVE it.

I think it was posted on a conservative blog, but not one I visit very often. If it's yours, drop me a comment and I'll give credit where it's due. This is simply too delectable not to pass along.

Adam Savage does a Gollum turn on "I Will Survive"




Brilliant!

Amusez vos amis

MMM mm. I have a new favorite.

They say not to judge a book by its cover, but I was completely charmed by the product, bonus carafe and packaging of this St-Germain Summer Soiree set, featuring this lovely elder-flower liqueur from France. Himself remarked that elder-flower was a very nice flavor and he bought the set for me. *squee* The pretty flavors are not attended by the cloying over-sweetness one usually associates with liqueurs. I can't wait to put this in desert sauces and other things. This is definitely the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Truly, the taste is extraordinary, and is indeed floral, but there's a lot of fruit in there, too. The carafe is pre-marked with measures for a champagne/tonic (or sparkling water)/St-Germain cocktail. YUM! Beautiful, vintage-style packaging.

There's also a St-Germain twist on the classic margarita, called a St-Rita. Sounds like a cocktail with my name on it, don't you think? Suspect I'll be running through a fair bit of this stuff during my workaholic grind, this summer.

à votre santé!