Dried Bull Penises Done Up In A Braid

I have to go see if they have Steer Pizzle at a Trader Joe's on Long Island.

Dreaming of Down Under

This Dwelling print (available on etsy) by 11 year old Sydney resident Moofus was commissioned for the Theme Attic feature in Dwell Magazine. I want to live in this eco-friendly modern house full of colour in the middle of an Australian summer. I'd also like to be as talented as this kid or his mom artist Kate Banazi. Check out her silkscreen prints, too.

Snow fun

This is the face of a dog that's spent too much time at home recently, a dog begging to be taken out somewhere interesting.


Somewhere she can run free, follow trails and be distracted by doggie scents


And maybe make a new friend.

Let's be positive

It's freezing again but at least the sun is shining today. And it finally stopped snowing. Small things...

Indisputable proof

More snow? More snow? MORE SNOW?


More snow.

Fantasy Shower

I'm having a very girly fantasy. My master bath will be full of swirls and swags, light and


etched shower doors by Antonio Lupi


one of a kind Lightshape lighted tiles from GranitiFiandre


chandelier-inspired tactile Feel tiles at Iris Ceramica

Never mind that it won't go with the rest of the house. Never mind that I wouldn't normally give this flowery style a passing glance. On a cold, dark day in the middle of winter I'm craving something rococo; pearls and ribbons, flowers and dancing slippers.

This is our life

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Without the horses. Cowboy hats and boots, however, have been worn on occasion.

Darning the Sofa

The sofa. Gorgeous pink 1968 sectional. Let's get in a little closer, shall we


The damage. This isn't the worst, I couldn't bring myself to show the internets the worst bits that I had to darn to keep the batting in place.




The culprits. Junior cats Maya (top) and Hermes. Butter wouldn't melt, right?

Resentment

A tip for The Guy: checking the garage door sensor to see if one of the wires has detached is preferable to telling me (when I'm already in bed) that we need a new garage door opener. It saves you from explaining how you had to open and close said garage door manually (yes, I do know that it's really heavy) and having me patiently explain to you (once more) how to see to the problem. Stating that you will see to it in the morning means you actually have to do just that. Failing to take care of it and LEAVING IT TO ME TO FIX AGAIN leads to wifely resentment. Just saying.
This also applies to the following: lights, alarms and strange noises

Reality Check Recipe

While searching the internets for a comfort-food recipe to cheer us up and warm us through I stumbled upon this gem from Nigella Lawson on NPR. Two pretty big differences there guys. Do you think it was a metric/US conversion problem or a good old-fashioned typo? Whatever, recipes are like Yahoo! Maps driving directions: you should always perform a reality check first.

Winter beach

Fleets Cove Beach before the snowstorm. Last week's snow has frozen on the sand and more is predicted for tonight. We're not even half-way through winter yet and I'm over it.

Gold Fever

I don't know about this Soffi Gold Fever Murano Glass waterfall faucet from Bongio. I can't decide if it reminds me more of an upside down retro table lamp or alibaba's turban. I am certain that if it were in our shower someone would hit with a shampoo bottle on day one and it would be raining Murano sprinkles and I don't think we'd be singing this song.
via trendir

Design Beliefs

We believe in rustic modernism: Big Sur, A-Frame beach houses, raw beams, and geodesic dome homes.

Me too

We sat on it too long

The fence that is. This one in the photo. Well, obviously we didn't actually sit on it as it would have collapsed much earlier, but we hummed and hawed and generally procrastinated over the benefits of a 4' over a 6' fence, cedar versus a sawdust composite, self-build or ready-made. We tried to make it last just one more season, one more year, a little longer, dragging out the inevitable as we always do until, THUD. Or at least a gentle thwack as one by one the uprights fell onto the snowy ground.
Oh custom-made cedar fence, you looked so sturdy back in the late spring sunshine. Now The Guy has been forced to prop you up with all manner of scraps of wood, fallen tree branches and the plastic lid from the beer cooler. Not really the warm, uniquely modern look we were going for but one we'll be forced to live with until winter comes to an end.

News from the Neighborhood

Are we getting new neighbors? Newsday is reporting that Brangelina will be renting this two-helipad pile, complete with fallout shelter, just across the bay. Not quite next door, but still in the same zip code. Maybe we'll bump into the celebrity duo at the local market this spring?
Seriously though, the place has been on the market for a couple of years at an asking price of $60,000,000. I'm guessing the exclusive prestige market has taken as much of a hit as the rest of the real estate around here and renting out is the only way the owners will be seeing any money from it in the foreseeable future.

Animal Tracks

Temperatures have soared into the 30s this morning, the biting wind has died down and my fluey cold has improved to the point where I can go a whole five minutes without coughing. In celebration I walked the dogs for the first time in a fortnight. We've still got several inches of snow and the lawn is almost pristine. Almost, except for this set of tracks that come through the hemlock trees and head towards the central rhododendron bed. They are about four inches long with a gap of two or three feet between. Raccoon, do you think? Huge hare? Sasquatch? I have no idea but whatever it was it left us a gift of scat.

Damn It. Cough... Sniffle...

One of the neighbours just returned the damn dog that had escaped through the damn fence. I had to answer the door, I did hesitate but The Guy had staggered in to work this morning and the good dog was barking. A lot. I wasn't dressed. I haven't got out of my pyjamas since last Wednesday apart from two runs to the pharmacy for drugs and the grocery store for homemade soup. Over the pjs I'm wearing a 10 year old, holey, worn out dressing gown because I spilt soup down the "good" dressing gown. I look as good as I feel.
The neighbor is a really nice, very put-together blonde who used to have a cool job with a popular music channel who wouldn't answer the door to the local police when her 2 year old had been playing with the telephone and mistakenly dialed 911 because she was pregnant with her second child and dressed in her scruffs. She looks like a supermodel.
I feel as good as I look.

Aide-memoire

I'm using the iphone as a portable, pictorial list-making device so next time I go to the liquor store I can remember the name of the delightfully smooth yet smokey single malt we are adding to hot water, lemon and a cane sugar cube to ward off the evil effects of the damned cold virus that's plagued as for the past 10 days. Yes, I know that's no way to treat a malt from the Islands but we're too sick to go get any Famous Grouse. It's called making do.........

The last of the evergreens

A month ago I bought two gorgeous rosemary bushes as a fragrant, green Solstice decoration. I hoped they would see us through the winter and we could plant them in the herb patch in the spring. I used them to flavour all the soups we have been enjoying since the festivities ended: red pepper and white bean, roasted tomato, chickpea and lamb and many others. I snipped a sprig or two and placed them on roasting chicken and lamb and chopped a little to throw on escalopes and roast potatoes. Every time I passed the bushes I gently squeezed them to release the aroma.


Then, as the weather grew more frigid and we spent more time in the kitchen cooking, I noticed they were starting to dry out. I watered them and moved them away from the cooktop and oven but it was too late. The rosemary had become a desiccated skeleton, only the heady Mediterranean scent left behind. I still used the crushed rosemary to sprinkle into stews but touching the bush even a little caused it to shower its needle-like leaves across the countertop.


Last week I gave in and harvested the remainder, pouring it into a glass jar, capturing the essence of the plant for a little while longer.
Now if only I could do something about my poor dehydrated skin.

The Future

Guess who is going to see Leonard Cohen in concert and whose tardiness meant they missed out on tickets? If I wasn't coughing so badly I'd be sobbing. Anyhow, here is the video that proved just how sexy the man is. From his awesome appearance on Later with Jules Holland in 1993. Enjoy.