Georgia, oh Georgia

I just home from two weeks in south Georgia for work. Being from the northwest, I figured it would be warm down there so I didn't bring a coat. People thought I was crazy. We had a snow day, and it didn't snow (except near Atlanta) or have torrential freezing rain. It was just kind of chilly, maybe 34 degrees.

I stayed in a hotel with not good food, and didn't have access to real food. I ate at Olive Garden (meh, as always except the always reliable salad and breadsticks) and Buffalo Wild Wings (I love the variety of wings, and they have a salad that makes my mouth soooo happy) but they don't exactly scream Georgia. I did eat a delightful carrot souffle and some amazing squash casserole that I am going to try to replicate in the almost cafeteria style hotel restaurant. I got some good barbecue on St. Simons Island (not my favorite style, but they came close), at Southern Soul and tried Brunswick stew for the first time. I asked what was in Brunswick stew, and was told, pulled pork, Lima beans, corn, and Brunswick (whatever the heck that is). I will have to try to make some of that also.
But otherwise, my time went by without much food excitement. And then, the night before I left, I found paradise. I luckily got to spend some time with my dear friend while I was down there, and we always have to seek out the best food we can. We asked some strangers where to go in downtown Brunswick, and they said if you just want good food, head to Indigo Coastal Shanty where we proceeded to try everything we could. Perfectly crisp Plantain chips that were better than tortilla strips with the amazing guacamole that accompanied the chips. The best fried green tomatoes, over some amazingly creamy grits. A white bean and fennel soup that hit the spot, and then we tried some killer pasta, with an amazing tequila sauce, some Charleston stew dish with more grits, and a bowl of southern style cioppino that knocked my socks off. With lots of food and leftovers, we of course still had to get cake. Rum spice cake with sauce reminiscent of caramelized hot buttered rum batter with pecans. Seriously amazing food.

Chalkboard DIY

My roommate and I needed a chalkboard for the space next to our bar. I couldn't find one in the right size, so I decided to make one using plywood, 1x3 strips, and chalkboard spray paint. The lumber I had cut at Lowe's (they do simple cuts for free!) and once everything was primed and ready, assembly was quick. I just used a clear gloss varnish for the trim, which worked out better for this than the stuff I used for our spice rack shelves. Now for the fun parts:

Ta-Dah! A chalkboard!

We plan to use it to keep track of the Friendsgiving day menu first, then the TV show seasons we are working on, and other important things. 

I also sprayed a small canvas we had laying around in order to keep track of what is currently in the kegerator, which is nothing right now. 

We have a regular weekly menu on the fridge, this is primarily for everything else.

I bought a really cheap eraser that is not the greatest, so we are still hunting for the perfect one that actually works. For now using a damp cloth is working.

Also we need to invest in some colored chalk. 




Coming soon: My mother's recipe box project...

It's been a while...

Over a year in fact! And so much has happened, it's a little overwhelming.
Since my last post, I spent three months in Bethel, AK working, then a month trying to figure out how to function in the real world again. Then I went to DC for the presidential inauguration, then New Orleans for the Superbowl and Mardi Gras (and the food!) and then to Kotzebue, AK for three months.
I love Kotzebue, and this is the first winter I haven't spent any time there, and I miss the community and my friends.

And then I moved. I left Alaska. It was hard, leaving my family and friends, but it was time for a change. I had lived in Juneau for over eight years, and I still think of it as home (well, I think of Montana as home, but I only spent my infancy there). I needed some perspective. My dad helped me pack up my car, and I got on the ferry.

I moved to Southern Oregon. Medford. And it was different. There were things I loved, and things I didn't. I loved the farmer's market, and my friends, but not the heat. I spent almost every other weekend driving to my brother's nephew's house in Portland to visit and bond over ice cream and comic books. But I knew something was missing.

So I applied for a job in Colorado. I interviewed while on vacation in Palm Springs visiting one of my favorite people. Side-note: I love Palm Springs. Again, not the weather, but the food (go eat at Cheeky's, order the chilaquiles and you will love me forever) and the architecture, and that my dear Ela lives there. And we went to Joshua Tree, which is like visiting Mars (or what I think Mars ould look like if it were less red). And I forgot about the interview.

Joshua Tree

 Chilaquiles

And then I got an email at work one day, almost a month later. Offering me a small promotion to move to Aspen. As in Dumb and Dumber fame. I thought about it for two whole seconds, then I packed up my apartment, called my mother, and we headed to Colorado. Four months after moving to Oregon.
Colorado is where my mother's roots are, so she enjoyed the trip down memory lane, and how much the area has changed.

I like Aspen, and the Roaring Fork Valley, it is beautiful. I realized I missed the mountains of Alaska. I arrived in the fall, with the trees turning golden, and the town a little sleepy. I thought it was perfect. I still do, but it is not quite what I thought it would be at first. But I'm happy here!
I am not wealthy, not even close, I get by, but I realized I am in another world now. Especially now that winter is here. And the wealthy ridiculously rich come out of the woodwork. The locals are great. There are things to do, and I can fish year round (I haven't gone yet, but I am going to!).

I know I'm happier here because I am cooking and baking again (it doesn't hurt that I want to use the oven to warm up either). And I'm working on my resolution, be healthier and happier!

So, I'm hoping to update on a regular basis, and share more of my cooking, as my Facebook friends are constantly asking for recipes.

Happy New Year!

Look Out!

Not even kidding, about a month ago, when I got home from work I parked in my driveway like always. Somehow magically my car door and my face collided mid-air. I was in a hurry to get to a bonfire, so I just rushed in to the house. My mother asked why my eye was bleeding, so I explained the freak accident, she got me a bag of ice. I changed for the bonfire, called a friend to pick me up, and finally sat down so my mother could "mother" me. The conversation went about like this:

Dad: Wow. Yeah, you'll probably have a black eye tomorrow.

Me: Noooo!!! I can't! I have to work tomorrow! I can't have a **** black eye! I'll call in sick before I go to work and have to explain what happened!

Mom: That should be interesting. You can't call out stupid.

Dad: (laughs hysterically)

Me: (laughs, then cries a bit because my face hurts)

I leave for some fun, my friend driving, and stop at the convenience store to get some supplies (read: alcohol). I had a single sip of vodka on the drive out, and explained the last minute chauffeuring, and the bag of ice on my temple. We get to the party, and somewhere on the drive I started getting a little, um, fuzzy. Like one too many drinks fuzzy. On one sip of vodka. People thought I'd been hitting the sauce pretty hard, until a brilliant friend got out a flashlight and tried to get me to follow it.... No go.
Turns out I didn't get to have a drink at the bonfire, as I had a mild concussion and didn't need beer to act like the crazy person I already was.

I slept like crap later on that night, as I'd roll over on my face and wake myself up. But I didn't have a black eye, thank goodness, just a headache and a blue-ish tinted eyelid for a week...

I'm still alive! (Honest!)

I will post a real bit soon, but I have been busy being on vacation, then working, judging (a parade, that is) and working some more, not to mention digging holes and baking like a crazy person, to get to my computer long enough to write anything down! I will soon, promise!!

Murder on the Bookshelf

A quick side note: I returned to my Juneau home last week, and haven't gotten a new post up yet as I had a surprise welcome home party, two dinners, and The Avengers to catch up on! Oh! And changes to the house made in my absence.


I had another bathroom post in the works, when my dear old dad called me into the front room to look at something. Quick, and crime were uttered somewhere in there. And this is what I beheld:

Oh No! Not Mr. Mann!!

E. Quin is running from the scene of the crime!!!

So we called in the CSI team. And they took photos:

The Scene

(Mother wouldn't let us use real chalk)

BLOOD!

The victim looks as though he was in pain.

After the body was moved.

The worst part of it all, they looked as though they were such good friends, Mr. Mann and E. Quin. I mean, they played so well together up until E kicked him off the shelf. These pictures were taken in happier times:

Playing Tag.

E. Quin and Mr. Mann's humble abode.

Shower Curtain Love

I'm in love with West Elm. I found the greatest shower curtain EVER there. It looks fantastic in my bathroom. Amazing really. A little feminine, but not frilly. Here, I'll show you. (I must apologize though, as I took this photo on my cell phone, as my camera got a bit chilly when I was in Barrow, you know, on top of the world.)

I love my shower curtain!

Wait a minute, is that the same bathroom as before? Why yes, yes it is.

I came across West Elm when I was searching for a paint color for my bedroom. I saw a series they did with Benjamin Moore, and the perfect, most amazing paint color for my room (more on that later!). But I also found their shower curtains. And their bedding. I just knew I had to go to one of their stores.

In Portland after New Year's this year, I sought out West Elm. And my mother and I explored the store for a couple hours. And I found this most perfect shower curtain. I'd been using a fabric liner before, and it was lonely. It desperately needed a friend. (I used double-sided rings so I could hang the liner and the curtain on the same rod and they have a smidgen of breathing room.) So I brought it some flowers, and butterflies. Everyone likes flowers and butterflies. Even shower curtain liners.


Turns out, this shower curtain inspired the entire look of my bathroom. I'll show you more, later.

Check out West Elm here.

M's bathroom, Part I

We fell in love with this house in large part because we have two master bedrooms. One has a tub in one closet. The other has an awkward doorway. And a door off the garage. That one became mine. Yay! The tub in the closet is in my parents' room.

I love that I had an en suite (look at me and my fancy french!) but it only had one outlet. And no windows. Or I thought is had no windows, but if you looked at the outside of the house you soon realized there was an extra window. It had been covered by the mirror. Which was in front of the rickety pedestal sink. That was a little shorter than usual. And I'm 5'10", a little taller than usual. 

This put a bathroom remodel at the top of my To-Do list. This was last August.

The toilet. Really.

The teeny-tiny sink. And the window-hiding mirror

View from the door. Note the awkward placement of my ONLY outlet.

I bought a shower curtain rod. A hotel-style outwardly curving shower curtain rod. And it makes my shower feel huge, even though it isn't. EVERYONE needs one of them. And I really needed one because I lacked the ability to take a shower. I bought a fancy shower-head while I was at it. The first new things I bought for my new house. (I bought a bed next.)

I next began searching for a vanity that I could love. I considered a recycled kitchen cabinet, (my Mumsy was pushing for that one) and a traditional vanity from my local hardware store. But none of them really fit my personality. Or my bathroom's personality. And so the quest for the perfect vanity continued...

I live at home

About a year ago I started house hunting. I wanted to take my hard-earned money and put it down on a nice little two-bedroom condo, if I could find one I could afford in my exceedingly expensive housing market, or one bedroom if I couldn't.
Then I started travelling for work. Well, travelling is a bit much. More like, spending months working in one location, far, far from home.
If I wanted to buy a condo I was going to have to find someone to watch it while I was gone. Enter Mom and Dad. They were considering moving back to the real world and buying a home after five years of rent-free but laborious living.
So why not combine our awesomeness and buy a home together?
Frustrating searching and offering ensued. On a fluke, using my smart phone one day after getting news that we lost yet another property we thought was perfect, I pulled up a foreclosure listing that was on the same street my family had lived on when we first moved to Juneau. Kismet? Maybe. After driving by and window shopping, we called our wonderful Realtor, and took a tour. And then proceeded to put an offer on it that day.
And being a foreclosure, we finally closed two months later, and I moved in right away.
Did I mention it needed some work? Oh boy. It is a work in progress. But not just the house. My learning to be a responsible homeowner, fix the big things, and get dinner on the table when my parents come home (seems backwards...hmmmm) is in progress too. I've learned to make a couple of casseroles! And how to replace a toilet! And remodel a bathroom in 2 weeks, before I headed off for 3 months!

Anyways, follow along as I figure it out.

Mi Casa needs a weed eater.