Yummy breakfast muffins

Sunday was gray and gloomy, a perfect day for baking some blueberry oat bran muffins I've been wanting to try for our weekday breakfasts. They turned out really well, very moist and filling. Here's the recipe if you want to try it:

Makes a dozen muffins. Ingredients: 2 1/4 cups of oat bran, 1 tbsp baking powder, 2 tbsp chopped almonds, 1/4 cup shredded coconut, 1/4 cup sugar or maple syrup, 2 large, overripe bananas, 1 1/4 cup skim milk, one large egg, a handful of blueberries.

Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl.

Blend all other ingredients into a puree and combine with dry ingredients.

Pour batter into muffin tin and add blueberries.

Bake at 450 degrees for about 15 minutes, or until tops turn golden brown, and voila! Tasty, good-for-you muffins.



The muffins can be frozen; just zap in the microwave for 30 seconds before eating.

Paris, je t'aime

This weekend Bob and I watched a movie called "Paris, je t'aime," a collection of short films about Paris, each by a different director.

This short, by Tom Tykwer, was our hands-down favorite and needs to be shared. It is a beautiful little piece of filmmaking.

Watch and enjoy.

When catnip is not enough

Bob has been spending a lot of time with his guitars lately. I often come home to find them scattered about the living room, gently propped up on furniture. Good for him, I would think to myself.

Then I came home one day to find this:

That's right. Bob's guitar is wearing a winter hat.

I then began to worry maybe he was spending a little too much time with his guitars. Was it possible he was beginning to anthropomorphise them? Was the next step a little knitted jacket?

Turns out, Bob wasn't worried about his guitar catching a cold. The purpose of the hat, he informed me, was to prevent more of this:

Those are teeth marks. Apparently, Cricket has been using the top of his guitar as a chew toy.

Baaaad kitty.

Could you care less, or not?

While people who pronounce "realtor" as "reel-a-tor" and those who say "spendy" still top my list, my absolute biggest pet peeve lately is the bastardization of the phrase "couldn't care less."

I have increasingly seen or heard this phrase used as "COULD care less," as if that makes sense. I even saw it used that way in a mainstream magazine article that was presumably looked at by at least one editor (shame on you, Real Simple). The writer stated that her free-spirited mother "could care less about dirty dishes." Hmmm. So what could she care more about?

Apparently there are a lot of people running around who think they DON'T care about something but continually tell to others that they REALLY DO by mangling this phrase. Perhaps the extra "n't" is just too much effort for those who are already trying to indicate they care so little? Who knows. But I suspect future generations will scratch their heads at how the then-common phrase "could care less" came about, because, they will realize, it means the opposite of what it's supposed to.

Kind of like "head over heels." Aren't our heads always over our heels? I'll bet some idiot mangled "heels over head" one day and it took off like wildfire. I'm just sayin'.

Farewell, sweet Domino

I was so sad to discover that my favorite magazine, Domino, recently folded. I love this magazine (hence my collection, above). Unfortunately, there is nothing else like it on the market right now that can fill the void for its passionate followers. And, of course, my mom just got me a subscription for my birthday three months ago. Happy Birthday to me!

I will miss the beautiful rooms, photos, ideas and inspiration that this magazine provided. It's style was chic, modern, fun, and totally accessible. I always looked forward to reading it each month.

Domino, you will be missed.

She wears her sunglasses at night

If Cricket made an 80s music video, it would look like this:

I swear it looks like she's even wearing eyeliner, but she insists she was going for more of a Don Henley "Boys of Summer" look.

For those of you who are too young (or too "mature") to know what I'm talking about, kindly move along.

In the field

One of my New Year's resolutions was to improve my photography skills, so I recently took a one-day class on nature photography taught by our friend Dan, who now has his own business. Part of the class was spent in the field where I worked on my macro (close-up) photography, even though I don't yet have a macro lens. Thus, it's really poor man's macro.

And when I say we spent time in the field, I mean an actual field, where there was very little to photograph but snow and branches.

Anyway, here are a couple of the (unedited) shots I took that day:

I kind of like the above photo because, even though it's dark, it looks like it could have been taken underwater. It kind of looks like glowing sea urchins.

This next one is a little drab, but hey - it was January in Minnesota. There wasn't a lot of color out there.

I just thought this tiny field pod was cute and begging to be photographed:

Happy Valentine's Day

I came downstairs this morning to find these:


When Bob came home from work tonight we had wine, hors d'oeuvres, and these:


Cups made of white and dark chocolate filled with mascarpone and raspberries, drizzled with honey (and no, I didn't make them myself). Mmmmmm...

Happy Valentine's Day!

Lazy Sunday

Useless. Every one of them.

I, on the other hand - in an unusual spurt of domesticity - whipped up a batch of pecan brittle. It is sooo good. And so simple: pretty much just butter, sugar, a little salt, and pecans. Here's the finished product:

Sadly, now that my kitchen skills have been exhausted, this will probably be our dinner tonight.

Cats-in-the-Box

One of the many reasons why cats are great: They are so easy to please. Give them a cardboard box, or even a box lid, and it's just like Christmas morning.

For days.

Seriously. They really love boxes.

Not so crafty

Anyone who knows me knows I am not what you would call a "crafty" person. In fact, I would rather poke my eyes out with a hot glue gun than step foot in a scrapbook or stamping store, and I would sooner stab myself with knitting needles than spend a day at Michael's or Joanne Fabrics.

But then I saw this:

(Photos courtesy of Mochimochi Land)

And this:



And this:

And I suddenly felt it, that thing that crafty women who love things like Kewpie dolls and appliques must feel – the unstoppable squeal of adorableness coming up my throat like vomit as I realized: I...want...to...make...these.

So I went to (gulp) Michael's and bought myself some knitting needles, yarn, and a book on how to knit. Now I have this:

Hmmmm.

I suppose it could possibly be fashioned into a scarf for Peanut.

Or not.

Then I found out those cute little creatures, called amigurumi, are not knitted. They are crocheted.

Realizing this is a slippery slope leading straight to the Bedazzler, I've decided to hold off on learning to crochet and see if the urge passes. My fingers are crossed.

Back in the saddle

After a decade-long hiatus I decided to begin taking riding lessons again last spring. I've been wanting to get back to them all along, but finding a stable within an hour of the metro has been challenging. Then I did a story on a woman who started her own equine accessories company, and she told me she takes lessons at a stable that turned out to be only 10 minutes from my house. I was thrilled - the stable doesn't advertise, so you can only get in with a recommendation.

So now, every Friday, I head to the stable and attempt to improve my dressage skills under the expert tutelage of my instructor, Roxanne. My first love is jumping, and I would love to get back into that someday, but this stable doesn't offer it. So I figure I'll continue to try and master dressage, then see if I still have the guts for jumping.

The horse I ride is named Jake - he's a big lug of a guy who injured himself on a barbed wire fence last summer trying to get into a paddock full of lady horses. He's fine now, but a bit lazy. Though Roxanne tells me that he's quite spry when his owner rides him, so I clearly must be the problem.

Against my better judgment, Roxanne talked me into competing in a horse show at the stable last October. Jake and I competed in the walk/trot category, where the judge watches how well you make transitions, control your horse and maintain your form. Amazingly, we walked away with a third-place ribbon! And yes, there actually were more than three competitors.

Here are some photos from the big day:

Me and Jake after our big win

This little horse is expressing his humiliation to Bob after being forced to participate in a costume contest as a pea to his young owner's princess.

Here's Bob with Andrew, a truly ginormous horse. He's very sweet, if a bit naughty. He always seems to be getting into trouble for something. He's often just running loose around the ranch, and let me tell you, the sight of Andrew coming at you, with hooves the size of bowling balls, can give you pause. But he always stops in time.

Here's a perspective shot with me:

Like I said, ginormous. This picture doesn't really even do him justice. Poor guy - he posed very patiently for several pictures and then, when he realized I didn't have a treat for him, walked away in disappointment.

Happy New Year!

Bob and I rang in the New Year (and our third anniversary) cozied up in front of the fireplace with a smorgasbord of food (crab cakes, stuffed mushrooms, baked artichoke Parmesan dip and crackers, etc.), wine, champagne, and even a small version of our wedding cake (raspberry filling and buttercream frosting - yum!!).

And, of course, a new Playstation 3 game. We're such romantics.

Here's wishing you and yours a healthy, happy, prosperous 2009!!

A different kind of Christmas

In reaction to this country's increasing culture of mass consumption and thoughtless waste, my family decided to change things up a bit this Christmas. Instead of buying each other "stuff," we chose instead to give gifts that give back. The only rule was the gift had to benefit someone or something.

When all was said and done, my little family: helped save seals in Canada and elephants in Sri Lanka; sent two girls to school in Afghanistan and educated 100 girls in Africa; donated to the U.N.'s World Food Program; gave a family a beehive for their livelihood; started two youth-soccer leagues in Mexico; supported services for the homeless; contributed to the education of a girl in Thailand in danger of being trafficked; contributed to the Courage Center and a veteran's organization; helped plant trees; supported an equine-therapy program for disabled children; and more.

My mom gave me this sweet little elephant family to represent a contribution to a conservation organization that actually makes paper out of elephant pooh. :)

We had a truly wonderful Christmas, and will probably continue this giving tradition next Christmas. It was actually much more satisfying than getting stuff. We spent the day at my sister's house and had a delicious dinner, played games, and visited with my Aunt Maureen and her husband Jean Paul who came all the way from Ottawa.

We spent Christmas Eve with Bob's family, which was also lovely. His mom makes the best lefse, and after we stuffed ourselves with all sorts of goodies we all headed over to his Aunt Paula and Uncle Bernie's house for more food and merriment. It's always so much fun catching up with everybody. The gift exchange was ... um, a bit surprising this year (I'm trying to be diplomatic so his family won't disown me), but we somehow ended up getting a frozen turkey (we're vegetarians), a stoneware cappuccino station for me (I don't drink coffee); and a garden-motif platter and salt and pepper shaker for Bob (?).

Each year we pick names and are asked for a gift list (this year's list: slippers for me, a cozy throw for Bob). But much like children on Christmas morning, we are sometimes still surprised by what we get.

So continuing the spirit of gifts that give back, we donated the turkey to a local food shelf.

Merry Christmas!

This is Whistlepig

You may recall an earlier post where I mentioned that woodchucks are also inexplicably called whistlepigs.

Well, after that post, Bob's new band – inexplicably – decided to name itself Whistlepig. The band formed last year and consists of four members, two of whom are former colleagues of mine at the newspaper. They made their public debut at a Halloween party throw by Dan, their bassist. Bob is the lead guitarist, and he sounded pretty damn impressive, even if I didn't recognize any of the songs they played. And more importantly, he looked hot while playing.

We both went as characters from "Kill Bill." He was a Crazy 88 and I was Elle Driver, member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad (played by Darryl Hannah in the movie). I was pretty happy with our costumes, which were very last minute.

Here are images from the movie:

And this is us:

And this is our friend (and drummer) John Sucansky as a frighteningly accurate version of the bad guy from "No Country for Old Men" and his wife, Sarah, as Mrs. Lovett from "Sweeny Todd:"