Currently viewing the tag: "cat"
The Electrician made me a garden!
I planted transplants because I’m not cool enough to sow seeds (yet).
In the ground: arugula, red bell pepper, plum tomatoes, eggplant, Brussels sprouts, broccoli and basil.
My grandmother’s garden gnome is finally back on duty.
In other plant news: Addy loving the cat grass my student gave to me.
Wishes are waiting…
Happy, safe, and warm… and foolishly skeptical of the much-discussed impending storm, Hurricane Sandy. This is moments before all the cats were stowed for a trip to higher ground. I thought it unnecessary at first but… I was kind of wrong. 
I needed to use up the sliced mango in the refrigerator so I started a mango chutney. Although I am a rigid measurer, I winged this by ear. My only mistake was putting too much clove. I never was able to enjoy this with the curried chickpeas I planned to make. It would spoil in the powerless refridgerator quickly. 
I used up the rest of the potatoes and made roasted onion and ‘tato hash. I love using up the last of things. Renewal is a important part of a functioning system. The storm would offer more of this as it flooded the basement. 
As the storm approached, the press was all over Freeport, Long Island, the small south shore incorporated village where I now reside. We were in an evacuation zone but the 100-year flood map I marked showed us right on the border. Pretty amazing. 
There is the house, right on the border of flooding. This map offered some comfort during Hurricane Irene as flood waters reached the exact location of the flood map’s boundaries and then retreated. This time, however, the powerful surge took advantage of some kinks in the house’s armor and penetrated. 
The final meal before high tide came in on Monday evening.
[office green] Fresh basil from the backyard.
[floral white] My guys.
[fern green] Pesto sauce from the delicious backyard basil.
[sunglow] Those pesky, beautiful weeds.
[light yellow] Avocado in lemon.
[lavender pink] Feasting bee.
[prussian blue] All hail the fig.
[seal brown] Frozen chocolate-covered banana.
[mint] Mint.
[light pink] Exploded cherry kombucha with chia seeds.
It’s going so fast. I am trying to savor each day, but that seems to make them fly by even faster. Here are some images I’d like to hold on to.
I become obsessed with the Electrician‘s butterfly bush as the the summer rolls on. Monarchs start fluttering around dancing in the air like a child is erratically pulling them with a string. There are a few, then there are many. Here is a rare Swallowtail eating some tasty nectar.
Mr. Blue Sky. The view from my hammock.
All my favorite fruits are in-season. A sweet, juicy retreat before the dense, starchy Autumn.
Splitting time between Long Island and my apartment in Brooklyn, I get the best of both. They both reinforce each other’s better qualities.
The maritime motif of the Nautical Mile, a few blocks from The Electrican‘s house.
I have the time to play tourist. The Grand Central ceiling is one of my favorite city-isms.
And I eat. A lot. Some people lose weight in the summer and bulk up in the winter. I do the reverse. Here are some treats I picked up from Champs Family Bakery to fuel Ladies Night.
And at the end of a long day in the sweltering NYC heat, there’s time to cuddle up with my special buddy Frankenstein. 
I ❤ summer!
When the Bouncing Souls announced they’d be playing discography shows in New York, I was a bit giddy. The years surrounding The Good, the Bad and the Argyle and Maniacal Laughter marks the period in my life where every morsel of discretionary income when to buying and seeing music. And the Bouncing Souls were one of my favorite bands of that epoch. Though I never heard their music after these albums, they had already been cemented as a band that summated my youth and my emerging values: Antiestablishment but with a tongue in cheek. 
From the archives of 1997: Check out the price (and service charge) of the ticket. And my hair growing in from when I shaved it off.
Now, more than a decade later, it was time to revisit these two albums with a friend who was there with me back then. Since, we’ve branched off into two separate universes. But for the night, we were back–sharing glances of excited recognition as we heard the first notes of the songs that meant so much; songs that had shaped; songs that had offered a kindred, a momentary escape from an alienated youth. 
1999 with Josh, on one of the many photoshoots on my purple carpet.
Shows are hard in your 30′s. Especially with so many overgrown man-children “moshing” near the stage. I couldn’t see much of it, just fleeting glimpses of still-dreamy Greg Attonito who thankfully perked up in-between the two albums. The set was only about an hour, as both albums consisted of punk-short 2 minute wonders. Catching New Shirt/Heather Lewis from Weston‘s Got Beat Up was a nice start to the show but uptight, rampant security made it difficult to forget where you were, how old you are and how differently things were “back then”.
At shows now…there’s always a part of me that wants to be home, listening to the songs in comfort. Like Frankie and his Califone headphones.
But I made it through the show, thankful to the proximity of the venue to the L train. With a fished out Metrocard ready as I descended the stairs, I thought of how much has changed. And how much was the same.
An aside: Leadsinger Greg Attonito and his wife wrote a children’s book.
Little delicate weeds get no love.
They look like shy, optimistic chit-chatters.
“Hey! Hey you! Look how bright and pretty we are!”
Holy stigma.
“Hi. We’re less enthusiastic than the red ones. Notice us if you wish–or not; we’ll be fine either way.”
“Mnmm mnnmmm.”
So Delicious Turtle Trails… and I quote, “A gooey non-dairy caramel sauce and chocolate-coated praline pecans swimming in a sea of creamy, coconut milk based vanilla non-dairy frozen dessert.”
I’m obsessed with upgrading my spring/summer shoe collection. Pictured are the perfect summer sneaker, Converse’s Jack Purcell, and New Balance’s vegan mary jane made of recycled materials.
Even the cats enjoy my shoe deliveries.
Frank and I strike a pose. Such great colors in this picture.
My very dear and talented Artsparrow hosted a book release party for her first published book, The Zombie Autopsies. But first! 200 undead mini-cupcakes were needed, grey in color and with bright pink brains.
The gals and I spent the evening before working through the particulars–multiplying fractions, whipping up VCTOTW‘s no-fail basic vanilla and taking the occasion to feast on some grub from Vegetarian Palate. Though I spent most of the evening with stained red hands, I managed to photo-document some the action.
My favorite ladies Artsparrow and CandyPenny spoon in some batter.
Eat brains!
The spread from Vegetarian Palate, including Caribbean chicken, a variety of spring rolls, scallion pancakes, tofu and veggies, spinach dumplings and brown rice. This place is very close to Prospect Heights’ Zen Vegetarian House (see here) mock meat delights.
My compartmentalized plate. This heavy meal did me in! I had little to offer after chowing down.
The man of the house (sorry TimX) ran a tight ship, watching us intently from the computer chair.
Vegan Reporting By Location
