Re-Membering Barbie

I could recognize those eyes anywhere… those little pursed lips, those tiny little ears and permanently tip-toed feet. As a child, I would hold her face about 2 inches away from mine and memorize each and every detail. Each face slightly different. As you can imagine, when I saw this…

…a flood of memories came rushing back. I was transported to the floor of our basement playroom. Orange shag carpet, light filtering in from the single window, the floor littered with dozens of naked Barbies. My sister and I would mosey down there and just plop ourselves in the middle of the madness. We had a large wicker basket that resembled a treasure chest with a hinged lid. That was where the Barbies were supposed to live. However, they seemed to be more comfortable just sleeping on the furry carpet.

We had a huge cardboard under-the-bed storage type box that was just bursting with doll clothes. From ballgowns to bikinis, some of the most fun was sifting through that box looking for the perfect outfit or trying to find that other pesky hot pink high heel.

We could never remember whose Barbie was whose, so lots of the time we would ‘auction’ them off before playing.  Sounds complicated, but it usually consisted of me trying to convince my little sister that the Barbie with the squooshed-on head or the sticky rubber band in her hair was ‘pretty’ and that she would really like playing with her. (Oh the things big sisters do, and oh the things sweet little sisters fall for. Hopefully there are no hard feelings Katie. I was six, and bossy and almost impossible to play with.)
Our Barbies lived the most adventurous life. We would take them diving in our swimming pool, style their hair with bows three times the size of their heads, and even smear them in peanut butter to make them look like creepy monsters. I know, I know…that one’s a little over the top.  

So, as you see, our day-to-day lives as little kiddos were inundated with Barbies. That’s why I fell head over heels with Margaux Lange’s whimsical recreations of this classic toy. I want one of each!
And before you ask…yes, yes, that is Miss Barbie’s bust, which makes quite a beautiful heart if you ask me. Clever, Margaux, real clever. 
And Ken…oh, Ken. I think we all had a crush on you at some point. I wish I had this necklace to wear over my heart. Thump, thump.

I know most of you have some fun Barbie memories hidden up there in your noggin. Pull ’em out, dust ’em off, I’d love to hear all about it.

Posted 9/19/10, Topic: Blog

Lady Lovely Locks

Not to harp on hair or anything, but I thought since I won’t be donating my hair anytime soon, I would share some pictures from my last hair donation (2008).
It’s funny. Hair is hair and it will grow back, so why do we get so attached to it? I mean, when you think about it, you and your hair spend a lot of quality time together. You get use to seeing it each and every day. So the thought of whacking it off kind of scares you. I think it’s a security thing. As you can tell, I was a little nervous.
Wow. That’s a lot of locks! Just call me Rapunzel. Mr. Blue Eyed Yonder stopped by to see the long pony get the cut. Just as the stylist got everything into position, she asked him, “Here, do you want to do it?” I don’t think there was any hesitation. Ha!

It was actually quite barbaric, and I think he enjoyed his little “I’m-king-of-the-castle” moment. I wish you could have seen his face. He was cheesin’ like a Cheshire cat.
And there it is…whickity whickity whack.

Posted 9/17/10, Topic: Blog

Perfect Fingerling Potatoes

Sometimes some of the best dishes are just plain and simple. That’s the case with this recipe for roasted fingerling potatoes. No need for a lot of fuss, just a little seasoning and the delicious natural taste of tiny fingerlings.

Start with one pound of fresh fingerling potatoes. I got these at the local Marietta Farmers Market. They were just too cute not to pick up a little bundle.

Wash the potatoes while bringing a pot of water to boil. Place the potatoes in the boiling water and boil for 10 minutes. Remove from heat and drain. Immediately submerge the potatoes in an icy water bath.
While the potatoes are getting their chill on, whisk together olive oil, coarse sea salt and black pepper in a bowl.
Toss the potatoes in the olive oil mixture to coat. Then place the potatoes in a shallow baking dish and roast at 450-degrees for 15 minutes, or until fork tender.
The process of boiling/chilling/roasting yields a perfectly crisp potato skin with the creamiest of centers. They just burst in your mouth. Delish! 
And if you really want a killer meal…get your Mister to grill up a juicy steak and fresh crooked neck squash for “garnish”. Mmm, mmm good.

Perfect Fingerling Potatoes
1 lb fingerling potatoes
1/4 c. Olive oil
1 tbsp. Coarse Salt
1 tbsp. Black Pepper
Wash potatoes. Boil potatoes in water for 10 minutes. Drain. Submerge potatoes in icy water bath. Meanwhile, whisk together 1/4 cup olive oil, tablespoon salt and tablespoon pepper. (Feel free to use more or less to taste.) Toss potatoes in olive oil mixture to coat. Place in shallow baking dish and roast at 450-degrees for 15 minutes or until fork tender.

Posted 9/14/10, Topic: Blog

Snips, Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

That’s how many days it has been since my last haircut. No, I don’t have a freakish fear of the salon or an unhealthy emphatuation with my hair. For the last 359 days I have washed, dryed, brushed, curled, straightened, pinned, tucked, twisted and lovingly put up with my long hair. You see, I had a purpose for these long locks. When the time was right, I would whack off my ponytail, seal it in an envelope, and ship it off to become a wig for somebody in need.
I am not a particular fan of long hair, especially when it gets super long. How long is super long?
1. When your ponytail is so heavy it gives you a headache.
2. When you try to turn your head while changing lanes in traffic and your head is jolted because your hair has gotten caught in your armpit. Again.
3. When it interferes with the fastening of your undergarments.
4. When it drags across your plate at a swanky restaurant and picks up a hitchhiking risotto.
5. When you awake in the night because you think someone pulled your hair…only to find out it was you.
So, I think you get the picture. Lots of maintenance and a good bit of grief, but all for a great cause.
I recently got a coupon for a cut and style at a cute little salon in an uber granola community just South of Atlanta. 75% off a hair cut, that’s a good thing… right? Just a little trim, rid the locks of their dead ends and perhaps add a few small layers. Harmless, uh-huh?
Well, if you are a woman, you can probably sense the rising lump in my throat. Having a bad hair experience is some kind of rite of passage. Your Mom might have butchered your bangs in the first grade, you could have had your hair almost fried off with a perm (thank you early 90’s), or your could grow your hair for almost a year and have some scissor-happy wench hack away about seven months of growth!
It wasn’t that the hair cut was bad, she just didn’t listen. Not to mention, I told her I wanted something with volume and she sent me home with one of those I’m-too-cool-to-have-any-poof looks. Geez. I tried to stay positive, but once I got home replayed the whole story to Mr. Blue Eyed Yonder, the tears started to roll. I was just so mad to have spent all that time growing it out only to have it snipped off.
In an attempt to share in my frustration, Mr. BEY said, “Yeah, I mean it looks like you got your hair cut at Great Clips.” Oh poor little man, don’t you know to just nod your head and lend me your ear when I am having a hair moment? As you can imagine, that just made things worse. Seeing that I was even more upset and being frustrated with his inability to ‘make it all better’ he tried to recover by saying, “It’s not that it looks like Great Clips, it just looks like you just woke up and haven’t washed your hair.” Ha! That was an attempt to make things better! I was madder than an old wet hen.
Puppy Dog Tails

Poor guy, I know he was just trying to agree with me and make me feel better. You have to kind of feel sorry for them, women are uberly complex and complicated creatures. I am a woman, and I don’t even understand myself half of the time. It’s funny, I do want his honest opinion, but when he gives it to me I then decide that I didn’t want it in the first place. Ha! He deserves a bit of a reprieve for those comments. I am pretty sure he was acting in a moment of desperation. Who would want to see their wife cry over a hair cut. I am pretty sure Shakespeare himself could not have crafted words to make me feel better in that moment. It was just something I had to work through on my own.

I’m over the crying. Don’t get me wrong, I am still mad about all the hair she whacked off, but it will grow back. And don’t worry, me and Mr. Blue Eyed Yonder made up over a double waffle at the Waffle House. Nothing like syrup and butter to smooth things over.

So tell me, do you have any hair disasters or funny “men” stories? I know you’ve got ’em, let me hear ’em sisters!

Posted 9/10/10, Topic: Blog

Lune de Miel

In just over a month, the newlyweds will celebrate their one year anniversary. Such a simple and sweet anniversary year…one. Our very first. 
We both love to travel and decided long before we were married that we didn’t need extravagant 5 star hotels or snooty restaurants, all we needed in this journey was each other. The fun in experiencing new places was experiencing it with each other and sharing in the newness and adventure of it. When you look at life that way, you can have just as much fun strolling your local farmers market as the Great Pyramids of Egypt. 
That makes planning a trip easy. You could spin the globe…pick a spot…and we’d be ready to go. So for our first year, our one, we thumbed through a dozen books, browsed a thousand sites, and finally booked    our honeyversary!
Pack your bags and bring your best scarf…we’re going to France kiddos! 
A couple of days in the City of Lights and the rest of the trip exploring beautiful Provence. So much to see and do, our heads are bursting with ideas.
…a trip down the river Seine under the twinkling night lights of the city.
…a warm, crusty baguette enjoyed in a corner cafe overlooking the bustling street.
…an early morning visit to a vibrant open-air market for fresh bread and cheeses for an afternoon picnic.
…a step below the streets for a look at the eerie Parisian catacombs.
…a blanket on a hillside overlooking Van Gogh’s starry night.
…a walk to discover ancient Roman ruins and adorable hill-capping villages.

Oh…and what would France be without those funny mustaches! 

We are still busy ironing out the details of our Lune de Miel (That’s honeymoon in French, and yes, I realize it is our anniversary, but something about calling it a honeymoon is so much more fun.) If you have any tips or know of any must-see places please let us know. Au revoir!

Posted 9/8/10, Topic: Blog

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