Girl with the Awesome Menu

I have to admit that I don’t know anything about Sweden beyond that Swedish muppet guy and the wonderful breakfast I order at the Original House of Pancakes in Birmingham’s Five Points that comes with powdered sugar, whipped cream and strawberries. (Now, that’s a breakfast.) Or I didn’t know anything before I got addicted to those internationally bestselling  Stieg Larsson’s “Girl With …” books. If you haven’t picked these up, you’ve got to. And keep the coffee pot handy because that’s basically all they do in these books: Hack into computers, track down killers and drink endless cups of coffee. I can’t get enough. And luckily my food-loving book club read the first book in this trilogy — and extra-luckily our hostess for this meeting is our friend who specializes in creating marvelicious meals for the rest of us to enjoy. She went all out for our “Girl with the Dagon Tattoo” night and created a Swedish smorgasbord that I believe Larsson himself would have felt right at home with. We had smoked salmon, pickled herring, beets, potatoes, ligonberry preserves, pickles, cheese, sandwiches and of course coffee and cake for dessert. Oh my cookies. It was delicious, and she made us feel so special. We always nominate her for Best Hostess Ever and we threaten not to leave whenever she has us over. You’d think she’d learn, but we’re glad she hasn’t.

Chattanooga, Wings and Coffee, Too

Downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee, is a seriously awesome place. I fell in love with it when I was young and my dad would drive the hour it took to get us there so we could eat at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo and then wander around the top of Lookout Mountain. Luckily, my middle brother and his family live there, so we still get to visit lots. And it’s still one of my favorite places. Chattanooga has done a stellar job of downtown renaissance and making itself into A Must-See Destination. Such as this Broad Street block that’s just up the street  from the Tennessee River and the Tennessee Aquarium. This block is home to Sticky Fingers Smokehouse, the barbecue restaurant-chain that three friends who first met as seventh-graders in Chattanooga started in 1992 in Charleston, S.C. My brother and I were there to pick up wings, pulled chicken and pulled pork for my nephew’s 12-year-old birthday party, and I have to say that Sticky Fingers’ wings rate right up there — meaty, juicy and just-right-hot.  I can see why my nephew requested Sticky Fingers for his birthday. (I think I’ll do the same, even though that means moving my birthday to a city four hours away. Worth it.) Another treasure on this block is Greyfriar’s Coffee and Tea Co., one of my brother’s top choices for coffee — and he knows coffee. And of course there’s more to Chattanooga than wings and coffee. You’ve got history, hiking, rock climbing, kayaking, shopping, music, art, more eating and more good times. Go check it out, and tell my brother I sent you.

Press Releases and Peaches

Have I told y’all that I’ve got a new job? Well, I use the term “job” loosely because it’s really just fun that I get paid for. And I’m using the phrase “get paid for” loosely, too. I’m the new marketing director for a local arts association that oversees an art museum and a renovated historic theatre. It’s part-time — only a few hours a week — and of course  it’s non-profit, so you can see that this is not the path to great personal wealth and riches. Of the money kind, at least. Because in terms of great personal satisfaction, this job rocks. The staff offices are in the museum, so we’re surrounded by creativity, talent and general wonderfulness every day. And the folks on the staff are exactly the type of people you want to work with: Dedicated, enthusiastic, generous and fun. Plus, I get to do what I love doing: Write. My prime responsibility is writing press releases and public service announcements and getting the word out about our exhibits, theatrical productions, concerts, workshops, tours, openings, etc. I’ve been building a media-contact list, talking to artists and newspaper and magazine folks and generally learning my way around the art world — which, by the way, is a fascinating place. Fascinating. One thing I’ve been thrilled to discover is that my work clothes from two years ago when I “retired” from fulltime newspaper-newsroom room still fit — but only because all those low-waisted skirts I borrowed from my daughters now sort of hang out around my waist since there seems to be some sort of impediment in my middle zone. But it’s OK, since I now have some spare cash I can put toward a new wardrobe the electric bill. (Oh, hi, Dear Husband! I didn’t see you reading here.) Read more about tackling a new job in my latest newspaper column.  And Younger Daughter sent me off to my new job in style the other morning with broiled fresh peaches served with a dollop of creamy Greek yogurt. Oh, yum.

Main Street, Crazy Town, USA

Oh, Crazy Town! How I’ve missed you! The Land of Stars, Sparkles and Sequins … otherwise known as Dancing With the Stars.  Welcome back!!! You bring joy and happiness every time you reappear. Aw, c’mon now. You there – I see you rolling your eyes. But have you tried DWTS? Have you actually sat down and watched the fabulousness that is The Journey to the Mirrorball? I have to admit that I’m a late adopter. When it first came on, I thought DWTS was simply about dancing. Wrong, wrong, WRONG! Once you realize that the dancing is only an excuse for the crazy, you can’t get enough. I’m telling you: DWTS is crazy in its purest form. There’s bad music, bad hair, bad jokes. There are various stages of fake tans. There are fake eyelashes unlike any ever seen anywhere. And, the very absolute best of all, there are fashion choices that … well, all I can say is that Younger Daughter and I thanked the Mirrorball Gods of Ultimate Crazy for co-host Brooke Burke’s “is-she-seriously-wearing-that?” dress from Monday’s premier show. It can only get better from here.

There’s Some Bad Grammar There

 

 

There are no words for such poor grammar. Well, actually, there are some words: The correct ones.

Nina and Pinta

I’m not sure which is the more startling: Driving past our local marina and seeing 15th-century masts towering over the more-usual fishing boats or stepping onto one of these replica ships and realizing that people actually crossed a big scary ocean and lived for months in something smaller than most people’s closets. Well, the closets of really rich people, anyway. But, still. These replicas of Christopher Columbus‘s Nina and Pinta are tiny, tiny, tiny. See the guy to the right of the center in the photo on the left? He practically can touch both sides of his ship when he stands in the middle and stretches out his arms. Truly. Built with hand tools in Brazil and owned by a British charity in the British Virgin Islands, these ships are making their way along the Mississippi and Tennessee rivers. When they dock in local harbors, the captain and his volunteer crew open the ships for tours. They’re here in Florence, Alabama, through Monday. Come take a look. You’ll be amazed. These ships come to my town every few years or so. They previously were here in 2003, and I remember because they were at the marina when my now-husband officially asked me to marry him … on a day that happened to be Columbus Day.  And why that strikes me as funny — that I got engaged on Columbus Day — I have no idea. Help!!!

Computers, or Why the @#$% Isn’t Mine Working?

You know, I usually think that I’m a pretty independent person. I mean, I don’t need much hand-holding. It’s true that my husband is in charge of critter removal and he insists on doing the heavy lifting when we go to the recycling center, but other than that, in general, I consider myself as tending toward the capable side. Except, apparently, when it comes to my laptop. I was a late adopter of wireless computing — I’ve only had my beloved workhouse for about four years. But I use it everyday. It’s part of my routine: Snarl at the cat to get her claws off of my shoulder at 5 a.m., give up and get up, feed cats, make coffee, get paper out of box, turn on laptop and the day has started. So a couple of days ago, when my laptop refused to cooperate, it threw my whole schedule out of whack. (And, as my husband thoughtfully pointed out, do we ever say that anything is “in whack?” Interesting. Sort of like you never hear about “gruntled” employees.) I always forget how much I depend on the computer for work and friends and news and mindless entertainment until I don’t have it anymore and that makes me ponder how it happened that my laptop is such an integral part of what I do and who I am. And then I just drink more coffee and harangue my computer guru about WHY IS THIS TAKING SO LONG???? After a couple of days of testing and getting advice and trying different things, I’m still laptop-less. But we’re getting closer, I think. And, honestly, my computer guru is the best ever and I’m not telling you who he is because I don’t want to share. So there. My husband has taken great pity on me — or maybe he’s just tired of my ranting and raving — and volunteered his laptop for my early-morning forays into World Wide Web Land until mine is back among the living. Keep your fingers crossed.

No Passport Required

I love writing about our 2-1/2-year-old grandson, Capt. Adorable. I mean, he’s the smartest, cutest, most adorable genius baby ever. E.V.E.R. So of course you want to read all about him, don’t you? In fact, I’d be remiss in my journalistic responsibility if I didn’t keep you posted about the Captain’s doings. Also: All my friends are starting to roll their eyes and think of things they suddenly have to do when I inevitably start conversations with, “Oh my gosh y’all will not believe what Capt. Adorable did the other day and I just have to tell you …” So thank goodness I have both a newspaper column AND a blog so that I can bore you share all the adorability. Such as this week’s column, which is a visit to the strange and wonderful place called Two-Year-Old Land. Although, in the interest of keeping things family-rated, I didn’t talk about the somewhat disturbing bathroom habits of the native population, and I also forgot to caution against drinking the water, especially if it’s in a Thomas the Train cup that’s leftover from lunch. You have been warned.

Didn’t Your Mother Always Tell You to Put Your Napkin in Your Lap?

I’m a huge fan of Project Runway. (At least I’ve been one ever since Project Runway switched to Lifetime and I’ve been able to watch it since our cable system refuses to offer Bravo. And I’m done ranting now.)  I mean, you’ve got sharp objects and shiny fabrics mixed with delicious diva-ness and the Sartorial Wisdom That Is Tim Gunn. What’s not to like? I especially love it when the judges go all crazy eyed. Now, I do not claim to know anything — not one single thing — about fashion. But it always amuses me when the Project Runway judges rail against something a show’s designer has produced when THAT VERY SAME LOOK is making the rounds in the real world. Take Peach’s dinner napkins, for example. In this past week’s episode, our favorite Token Old Lady (and note that she’s younger than I am, please) created an outfit that, yes, is ugly and busy and ill-fitting but definitely is not deserving of the judges’ scorn for her waistline “dinner-napkin” embellishment. At least if this fall 2010 cocktail dress by Nanette Lepore, which made it into the September issue of InStyle magazine (page 324), is any indication. Cat Deeley, where are you when we need you?

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Baby Showers

When our friend couldn’t wait to tell us that she was going to be a grandma for the first time, the three of us couldn’t wait to start planning a surprise shower for her. We sneakily scheduled the party for our regular book-club night and pulled off the surprise with style — she truly never saw it coming. Other than her face when she realized what was happening – priceless! — the best thing about our shower was the decor. My friend who volunteered her home for the book-club meeting/surprise baby shower created a baby-boy-blue wonderland that we all oohed and ahhed over and didn’t want to leave. (And now I really should drop the pretense that we talked about the book that night, although we did spend a couple of minutes on it, I think.) She’s a master at using things she already has — mixing vintage with contemporary – to set the mood and then adding her own special touches. Her blue-frosted cupcakes were don’t-let-a-single-crumb-go-to-waste good. And when she kicked off the evening with a pitcher full of yummy icy-blue goodness to sip before we sat down to a cool and refreshing chicken-salad supper, we knew we were in good hands as we welcomed our friend into the Sisterhood of Really Cool Grandmas. And you can join, too, as long as you have Really Cute Grandchildren. And don’t we all? Plus, we’ll even waive the iniation rite of having to sing all verses of the “Thomas the Tank Engine” song.

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