a wager.

We're frighteningly fond of the 70s XM radio station. Aside from rebroadcasts of vintage Casey Kasem AT40 shows from the 70s (what's not to love?), we've started listening to "70s on 7" with alarming frequency.

For me, this music is totally nostalgic, reminding me especially of rides in Mom's Olds Cutlass Convertible, particularly up Keystone Avenue from Grandma's to home, or from the Brookshire pool. It's a total time warp for me. Rob, however, missed that whole era of music, since that sort of music wasn't deemed particularly appropriate listening in his church-going household.

So tonight, a bottle and some change into the evening, ELO's "Don't Bring Me Down" comes on. I've always been convinced that the chorus goes, "Don't bring me down, Bruce." Rob was convinced that it was "Don't bring me down, Groos." Whatever.

We bet $20.

I lost.

Turns out, this is a prime example of my new favorite word, mondegreen. A mondegreen is a commonly misheard word or phrase. Like in "Blinded By the Light." You know what I'm talking about.

Crap. Now I owe Rob twenty bucks. And I'll never hear the end of it.

Oh, and by the way, these are like crack:

recharging.

I came back from a super-dee-awesome HOW Conference with an empty gas tank, both mentally and physically. Which made conditions ripe for a cold to develop. Which it did.

I paid a quick visit to Carmel on my day off Friday for lunch with Grandma and Mom. It was great seeing both of them, and Mom's lunch was, natch, perfect.

We've made the most of this Memorial Day weekend, in spite of low energy and a scruffy throat on my part. Rob washed windows on Saturday (which no doubt foretold today's bit of rain). I sort of helped, but not really. But we put the screens in the front and side doors, and now the house is wide open to the warm humidity, which feels terrific. I hung in there for 9 holes today and put up a rather decent (for me) score of 41. We've made two morning trips to the Coffee Emporium, during both of which Wrigley scored dog biscuits. So it's all good.

We've been creative in the kitchen: Saturday, we did barbeque chicken and lime/thyme potato salad (my absolute fave), then finished with a slice of homemade pound cake topped with fresh local strawberries that'd spent some quality time in a bath of Cointreau. Last night, we marinated some scallops from Findlay Market in some fresh herbs, garlic and olive oil, then broiled them topped with buttered breadcrumbs. I reduced some orange juice, added chopped tomato and swirled in a bit of butter for a nice sauce. Yum. Tonight it's steak sandwiches and fresh asparagus.

who knew?

Turns out, Grandma has a Wikipedia entry

pick your dinner.

First salad picked from the garden, last weekend when Mom was here.

spring.

Cool, rainy weather this spring has lengthened the season; things bloomed in succession, like a parade of flowering trees and shrubs over the past several weeks. Here's from our yard:

can't wait for this.

Wow. I really need to get off my @ss and post all the photos of our spring-glorious yard that I took specifically to share here.

In the meantime, I totally can't wait for this show on PBS coming this fall:

ode on a grapevine.

I can't find the post, but somewhere along the line, I noted that I'd like to have a grapevine in a pot on the side porch. I'd linked to Napa Style, where you can purchase a vinifera vine for, oh, a hundred bucks or so. NOT. So I ordered one via Amazon for about $30. It's a Chardonnay. It came neatly boxed; I transplanted it into a glazed pot and stuck it in our west-facing window for a few weeks.

It's gone nuts.

I have some weird kind of affinity for my Chardonnay vine, and also for my Mission olive tree, which made it from here to New Jersey and back, and is absolutely thriving. I simply love it. Like, LOVE it.

I mentioned my recent grapevine purchase (with a kind of, "Yeah, I know it's silly" sort of sheepish look) at work recently, and my colleague Carmen exclaimed: "That's so Italian!"

Exactly. The grapevine reminds me of lovely times spent with Rob in California wine country, and the olive takes me immediately to the grounds of Toscana Saporita in Italy, where Rob and I visited Bill several years ago. Rob and Bill took advantage of a seasonal spring Tuscan day, I clambered up into an ancient olive tree on the estate, where I sat watching Bill and Rob play ping-pong on an outdoor table in the sunshine. Perfect.

feelin' groovy.

Several things are brushing away the gloom of this cold, rainy spring Sunday: A bunch of ranunculus I bought at Findlay Market yesterday, a batch of chocolate-chip-granola-butterscotch-chip cookies, and a sleepy dog.


Yesterday, I took advantage of my energy for doing round-the-house projects (and Rob's absence, since he went to help Team Major Taylor at the Little 500 in Bloomington), and got the side porch all put together: vacuumed cushions, washed the faux-wicker furniture, got out the rug, assembled my glass-jar-and-sand candles. It was nasty cold, and there's no chance of using the porch in the next couple of days. But the weather's due to turn nice later in the week, and I wanted to have it all ready.

ta-da.

ssh ... I'm posting @ work ...

Last night marked the opening of the Side Porch Cafe. While Rob ran the lawnmower, I sponged the winter crud off the bistro table and chairs, tied on the seat cushions, swept the porch and got out a few candles. That, plus a nice rose to mark the change of seasons, was a fitting debut for the SPC. It's a nice neighborhood spot, the food's good, the wine is excellent and the view is lovely. You should go. Except you'll never get a table.

an accounting of spring.

All of a sudden, things are starting to bloom big-time around these parts. Rob kept telling me that spring was really, truly on the way, and I was skeptical. Until now.

On the way in this morning, I spotted:

Star magnolias and those big, blushy purple ones
Rhododendron
Forsythia (ours are going nuts)
Flowering plum
Bradford pear (they smell like feet)

Our flowering crabapples are leafed out and ready to bloom, and the lilacs are about a week from blossom. Lettuce and radish seedlings are up.

Oh, and I took my first Claritin of the season last night.

Ah, spring.