Adios, Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehn

An' a one, an' a two...

Wow. That picture is a lot to take in before the coffee has really kicked in. You can feel the power of the baton though. Can't you, Kids? I did love me some Lawrence Welk when I was growing up. And, still, my parents say they didn't know. Maybe the moments I secretly spent with Mr. Benny Hill threw them off the scent? But I digress. So, Kids, with Mr. Welk in mind, I am bidding you all farewell. NO, NO, NO! Not permanently! But for a while. I will return to "the bedlam" in a couple of weeks.

All y'all know that I've had a lot swirling around my head. But that's just the half of it really. (Count your blessings for the power of editing!) I am surrounded by a multitude of half-started projects. (I could say "unfinished" which would be more accurate, true, but entirely less optimistic.) With the Fall-like weather having closed in on the Northwest it makes me realize that I gotta get my nuts together. Y'know, like a squirrel. A squirrel, people! Honestly! But Summer, sadly, is not gonna last forever.

There is a ton to do around the house and, as I look at these restful images, I really want to give my home and my mind some much needed breathing space. (If I should even manage to muster the courage to publish "before" and "after" pictures you'd wonder why I hadn't done this sooner.) How much I can manage to get done remains to be seen, but I can only continue to multi-task so much for so long. A little one-on-one time with a project isn't a bad thing. At some point, in the effort to try to be all things to all people (Y'feel me, Kids?), things get swept under the rug... in my case, quite literally.

So thanks in advance for the patience, time, and understanding. Besides, if I wait until later to take some time off the new season of Oprah could be underway and then we all know I wouldn't get anything done! Huh? Though if Madonna comes out with a new album during this current hiatus I may have to do this post again. Just sayin'. ;)

(You may see me 'round the blogosphere in some "comment" sections. Or doing a brief guest blog at The English Muse. But that's it. Uncle gotta get to business!)

See y'all soon, Kids! Play nice!

Images from Mari Eriksson Fotografi and found via Vintage Simple.

Le Sanctuaire

No, not me... the cereal!

Foodie Fight

You can get your oven mitts on it at Sur La Table.

The Whole Kitchen Kaboodle

Greige walls, stainless steel cabinetry, and country-fied plate collection? Holler.
A sucker for subway tiles. Yes, still.

The rustic wall with the stainless cabinets and art wall? Gorgeous!
And something so refreshing about an all-white scheme.

Beefy's Bon Birthday

With all this talk of food from yesterday's post, I realized that I hadn't given you any indication of the gastronomical delights that I had on my birthday in July. (One month into 40 and I take great relief that bodily functions and teeth are remaining intact. Whew!) So here is the glorious shindig and the accompanying photos of the amazing dinner prepared by my friend and fellow foodie Georgina (now a CIA graduate!). It was amazing! But I'm guessing you're about to figure that out on your own anyway. Bon appétit!

That "B" could have stood for "birthday", "Beefy", "Bradford", or "breakdown".
If ever the emotional comfort of food was felt... this was the time. Sigh.

What am I gonna do with all these pine nuts?

Butter. Melted butter. That's what looks like is floating on the top of my coffee this morning as I decided to forgo milk for that smidgen of cream that was left in the fridge. My heart may not thank me but my soul (and my palette) are content to share in my potential demise.

I have several tabs open in my browser. One for "Julie & Julia", one for the Seattle Culinary Academy, one for the Culinary Institute of America, one for cooking aprons by Sara Smedley (inspired by the aforementioned film), and one of food photography. If only I had some kind of running theme to work a post out of... hmmm?

So yesterday, Kendall & I went to see "Julie & Julia". Given the fact that I blog and am considering the possibility of pastry school it seemed loosely appropriate to my general life scheme at the moment. (Gee, y'think?) Sigh. I liked it. Yes, a lot.

In one scene of the preview, Julie Powell (Amy Adams) tearfully tells her husband that she "was drowning and [Julia] pulled [her] out of the ocean". I told Kendall that would be me. He wasn't so sure. Then within the first 10 minutes of the film he realized that it was like watching me on film. I very much felt for Julie Powell and her struggle at "finding herself". I also took solace in the fact that Julia Child didn't embark upon her own culinary journey until her 40's. There is hope for me yet.

Now let it be understood that I will not be undertaking a blog about someone blogging about someone's cookbook. Nor will I be undertaking what would obviously be a formula already established by the aforementioned Powell. But this blog will certainly continue with its smattering of food-themed posts and, perhaps, my adventures into moving more firmly into that world. Time will tell. But the movie touched a few nerves within me. That my love of food runs very, very deep, while not an intellectual revelation, was something of a heady emotional enlightenment. And, what came as a great relief to me after watching this film was that I have firmly given up any desire for fame. (Yeah... I said it. And, no, this blog is not meant to function as some kind of substitute. Moving on.)

Oooh child, lemme tell you what! When I was in my 20's that's what got me up in the morning. I used to have conversations with friends about what kind of bets would be placed regarding who would make it onto the cover of "Vanity Fair" first. It makes me laugh to recall this now (kind of like a high school senior portrait). It used to feel so pressing, sooooo important. And I remember those feeling viscerally. Now it feels frivolous and uninspiring. No, I don't want to be famous anymore... I'd rather be content. Doesn't that just sound so much more satisfying? And, fortunately, more mature? It makes me sigh with relief just to say it. Fame is so outside of oneself whereas contentment feels pleasantly private, personal... and powerful.

A couple sitting behind us in the theatre would "ooh" and "aah" every time food appeared on screen. Needless to say, they were oohing and aahing a lot. But especially when desserts were presented. (My kind of peeps.) These people clearly loved food and likely derive that kind of soul-nourishing that comes from such devotion. And that's one of the things that struck me about my own love of food. Its preparation doesn't come from a place of ego (like some chefs I've worked with) as much as it comes from the heart. God, I know that sounds so flippin' corny and hardly literary but it is true. Hearing those murmurings of imagined delight and satisfaction stirred me deeply. THAT'S what I'm going for each time I bust out a batch of cupcakes, or a dozen cookies, or a multi-tiered monolith. The sense that what you do is having a direct effect on another's feeling of happiness if even for only a moment. The idea that you've brought a bit of good into someone's world. In other words, contentment.

There is obviously something primal about food since it is, after all, a necessity. But it's that additional ingredient of emotional satisfaction that makes it transcendent, sublime, spiritual. I don't think of myself as a glutton (though my pants may disagree from time to time) but I relish food from a place of both utter delight and profound appreciation. Good food doesn't pass my lips without the thought or exclamation that I am most grateful to be able to partake in such solace. That for the talents of those who created it, the potential lives lost in its preparation, and the immeasurable sacrifices of those who harvest it... I am indebted with gratitude and imbued with, yes, contentment.

Forest for the trees, Kids. Forest for the trees.

A Sorta Fairytale

Sucre a la Française

Able Lincoln

Tick. Tock.

From photographer Phillip Toledano's "Days with My Father" series. Extraordinary.

So here I am now, Kids. "Back" in action. Sorry for the pun but that's my nature. Corny humor. It's only a matter of time before I am likely to ask you to "pull my finger". Be prepared as I become more like my father every day.

I came across the work of photographer Phillip Toledano today. He has a series posted called "Days with My Father" that is one of the loveliest things I have seen. It is painfully touching and very much worthwhile.

For some reason I have always had a morbid fear of the passing of my own parents. I vividly remember being 7 years old, on 9th Avenue, lying in my bed, and crying to God pleading with Him not to take my parents away. I don't know how this ever even entered my mind at such a young age? But it's a fear that has always lingered. And it raises its head more and more these days.

I don't know if it was turning 40 and the realization that, yes, in point of fact, time is passing. Or just the cycle of my mental life. No, it's the former. For sure. I feel such a strong desire to spend more time with my mom and dad. But it's time I seem to rarely find. And yet I worry that it will become a regret. A big one. When I feel that I am losing time to what will likely become entirely insignificant activities and "obligations". Or a job. Or bills. Or my own thoughts.

I am keeping my head above water these days. (I'm a better swimmer than I thought.) But will I manage to stumble into steadier financial footing in time to be of some assistance to my parents? Will I ever get to afford the adoption fees for my, as of yet, imaginary kids so that they get to know their grandparents? The way I never got to do? Will I ever get to feel the satisfaction that comes with knowing you made your parents proud of you? I don't know. But I really, really, really hope so.

I have given myself permission to resume smoking, temporarily, after the first funeral. See what I mean about the "morbid" part?

Anyway, I'm feeling a bit nostalgic, melancholy, and damn appreciative this morning. Appreciative for the people I get to call Mom and Dad. And appreciative that I still have some time. I hope.

Back in [not so much] action!

Kids, sorry for triggering any abandonment issues. After tearing up the town with some Texans (more about that later) I tweaked my back out and so have been laid up. Needless to say, not sitting for hours reading and writing and blogging. I'm on the mend though and will get back in the saddle soon. Three cheers to feelin' geriatric! Ugh.