A Glimpse

This is from The Life and Times of the Plume. Makes me wanna go two-stepping at the Blue Moon up in Montana. Headed into the field until April 29th instead.

Invasion Of The Yip Yips

Happiness equals a slumber party with Hovey and Glad.

Last night featured an extended screening of Hovey's favorite You Tube videos. Traumatizing and amusing in equal measure, they will be food for dark, dark dreams and paroxysms of laughter in the weeks to come.

I won't subject you to the vast majority, but these three are family-friendly gems:

Oooooooooh. Yip. Yip. Yip. Yip. Yip.

It was past midnight when we finally fell asleep in our triad of massive sleeping bags.

Nice to relive the glory days of Sesame Street.

Zigni

I can always depend on Great Lakes Airlines to give my day an unexpected lift (or downdraft) and make me pause long enough to actually consider reading that safety card in the seat pocket in front of me. Flying to Tucson yesterday, there were fuzzy dice hanging in the plane's cockpit. Where's the camera when you need it?!

Landing in the southwest was a revelation-- 75 degrees out and the desert in riotous bloom after recent rains. Going for a run at twilight, I passed through fragrant clouds of orange blossom, jasmine, and lilac.

And then there was dinner...

My relationship with zigni goes back to living in Italy for a season in the small town of Calci, outside Pisa. Italian food, while wonderful, was wearing on my palate-- too much monotony. Then two things happened on the same day: An Indian tourist shared with me a spoonful of her mother's homemade mango chutney and an Eritrean friend came over and made zigni-- a spicy lamb dish from the Horn of Africa. My memory of those tastes hasn't dulled a bit with the passage of time.

So last night, I headed off in Half and Half (the branch's white hybrid) to Zemam's. I walk in the door and there's that poster ubiquitous to Ethiopian restaurants worldwide and zigni's on the menu! I ordered an iced tea (sweet with cloves and ginger) and waited with baited breath.

Heaven on a plate of injera!

Ta Dah!

(click on pic for music)

Elvis Perkins In Dearland

Boom Boom Pow

These are my go-to funny people in the blogosphere...

QUE SERA SERA: GIVE US BARABBAS

Nick spent Friday night putting on a huge warehouse party with several of his friends. I was coming off a three-day migraine, so I missed it. I awoke from eight hours of sleep on Saturday morning around ten, the same time Nick got home and came into our bedroom to say hello.

“I’m going to get my tea and come to bed. Do you want anything from downstairs?” he asked.

“Maybe some orange juice,” I said. “Ooh, and a pecan twist from the bread box?”

“Wait,” he said. “I need to write this down.”

“Write what down? It’s just orange juice.”

“Hold on,” he said, scribbling. “Hold on hold on hold on.”

“You don’t have to get me orange juice. I can get it.”

“Hold on.”

He returned twenty minutes later.

“I thought you'd forgotten,” I said.

“I did,” he answered. “I was sitting on the couch, but then I dropped my note on the floor and remembered.”

DOOCE

Her Screamness Who Screams A Lot And Won't Shut Up With The Screaming

BYE, RALEIGH

The remainder of my holiday in Cleveland was everything it should've been: relaxing, snowy, fattening. Here’s a cheese spread my sister whipped together.

That instrument at the top of the cutting board is a baby spoon. It’s my mother’s subtle way of saying, “This mango chutney is delicious. Also, where are my goddamned grandchildren?” But, Mom. There’s just so much cheese to eat. So. Much. Cheese.

NO ES TORTA

Hello, sports fans! Your favorite duo is back from the desert. Moab inspired us, dehydrated us, and kicked the ass of us.

Rack of Death

LIZA HOWARD'S BLOG: ULTRARUNNING MOM

I went to Barnes and Noble after dinner last night to study for a recertification exam I’m taking later today. A loud-talking couple at a table four inches from mine had the most inane discussion about religion I’ve ever been forced to listen to. About 15 minutes into their dialogue, Loud-talking Girl said, “So, I know I should probably know this, but what exactly is the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament?” Loud-talking Tutor Guy, “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah… and the rest is just pretty douche-y.”

So how do you avoid learning about the whole Old v. New Testament thing? (To be clear, whatever you believe or don’t believe is quite fine with me and none of my business.) It’s just an impressive knowledge handicap. (Of course, good for her for thinking to ask.) Instead of butting into the conversation to make sure she knew the difference between horses and frying pans, I put my fingers in my ears and tried to keep studying. Sadly the “and the rest is just pretty douche-y” bled through. I wish I’d heard what chunk of the Hebrew Scriptures inspired Loud-Talking Tutor Guy to use the word “douche-y.”

Loud-talking Girl: ”Oh, Dave, I just love these conversations we have!” THEN they started kissing. 4 inches from me and my study guide. SMOOooooCH. ”Me too.” SMOOOOOOCH. Smooch. SMooooOOCH. For the love, people!!! This was obviously my punishment for missing the recertification class.

But wait, there’s more. Then the store was robbed. (No guns or horribleness.) (Buttercup does not die at this time.) Three teenage guys set off the store alarm as they left through the front doors and then they took off like rabbits. A bunch of Barnes and Noble employees tore through the store and ran after them in hot pursuit. There was some fine running going on. And then a get-away truck screeched by. It looked like something out of a TV police drama — with more bookstore employees and fewer actual law enforcement types. Are there a lot of things worth stealing at a Barnes and Noble if you’re a teenage guy? I went home after that.

If, by some freak of nature, visiting these blogs doesn't have me chuckling to myself, I head to You Tube for this surefire hit. Leaves me skipping like a schoolgirl every time...

EVERY TIME!

Winded In At Three Peaks

Busy delivering wedding rings to these two (my idea not theirs):

So I get to see this one (oh, the joy):

Who is a NATURAL BORN KILLER (do not be deceived)!

Goose proudly arrived at the ranch house door last night with a deer leg in her mouth that still had blood running down the bone and glistening tendons attached. Sadly, technical difficulties are preventing me from uploading a video of her hunting squirrel. Trust me when I say it's majestic.

This morning we awoke to a howling wind that has us hunkering in fear for our lives. Mercy.

These three mustangs are weathering the storm in the pasture without complaint-- beautiful creatures that were captured off BLM land on the Red Desert and adopted from the Honor Farm's Inmate/Wild-Horse Program.

Home

I used to call this place home. Sometimes I still do. And yet.

Here are plans for my future home in Wyoming.

Get's me thinking...

The dictionary has a lot to say on the subject.

Useful? Meh.

I'd rather hear your thoughts.

What does home mean to you? What constitutes your sense of place?

Weddings? Yes, Please!

I'm NOT getting married in the foreseeable future.

The same cannot be said for many of my friends, who are tying the knot in droves this September. I'm surrounded by save-the-date cards and talking about neck lines on wedding dresses and excitement about that stuff's CONTAGIOUS!

So --surprise, surprise-- my latest addiction is a blog called Green Wedding Shoes, but before you judge...

Exhibit A:

One blazingly hot groom (in SF no less).

Exhibit B:

What a great idea to ask these people...

to sign this truck...

in lieu of a guest book!

My latest obsession may be a bit suspect, but I would argue that it's not without substance. And that's my last double negative for this post.

I rest my case.

Eye Candy

...that's what I'm craving today.

I just wanna look at pretty things!

[later that self same day]

Man! Ask and you shall receive...

J. Sall directed me to her sister's blog and, holy hell, what a feast for the senses! My favorite part? The NYT article, "Noble Savages: A Men's Tea Party".

Heads up, Spilecki & the Denizens of Mancamp!

The aesthetic of all of the above has me dreaming of a Dark & Stormy from Freemans in the worst way.

Unfortunately, it's no longer on the cocktail menu-- evidently replaced by something called a Rum Buck.

Rum Buck. Perhaps more appropriate given the Bavarian hunting lodge decor they've got going on inside (although they claim they were going for more of a "rugged clandestine colonial American tavern" look).

All The News That's Fit To Print

Front page news in Casper. Further down was the headline, "Police: Brouhaha involved mace."

On a more local note, Kevin and Rachael found the following gem in the Lander Journal:

"At 9:15 a.m., a woman reported that her cat had been missing for three weeks, and called back later to report that the cat in her freezer is not the missing cat."

I had to read that twice just to be sure.

Made me think of this 911 call:

And, finally, a bit of reportage from our local television station:

Good fun.