"It's Friday & I'm in Love" The Sun by Tip Top

I can't stop looking at these photos & I can't stop searching for this light.  While we were driving, it was so bright Jill was hoping that it was a green light.  It was & we arrived safely.  When you shoot into, it actually hurt & blinded you.  But it was worth the pain.

I can't bring myself to toss the blurry ones.

Or the ones that were accidental misfires & had to be rescued in ACR.

I want to hang out on this street & just hope the sun comes back.  It's a good pay-off for looking like a creepy homeless woman muttering about the sun.

Here's a slideshow from our Flickr Meet-up.  Next time, I'm going to do a better job of capturing everyone. We were supposed to do a larger walk with more friends before dinner, but it was raining. Next time...

Flickr Meet-up from Erika Ray on Vimeo.

Thanks, Xanthe for the tip!  This should be a shared "It's Friday & I'm in Love" post because I can't stop watching her video.  Can't stop.

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Bou'isms

I don't usually visit Caribou.  Their coffee taste different.  Don't try to tell me otherwise.  I can tell.  Don't even get me started on their pitiful version of a Pumpkin Spice!  Today, I took a couple minutes after the library to sit & read.  Caribou was on the way home.  I know that they've had this new design for months.  When we do visit, it's for something cold & there are no words on the plastic cups.  During those visits, I never have time to read their windows which are also loaded with phrases. I'm usually begging a kid to keep the lid on their milk.  Why is it they feel the need to look inside their milk?  But today was definitely a hot drink type of day.  The rain had just stopped & kept threatening to crash my solo date.  But I fought hard & sat outside.  Inside sounded like a shooting range.  Why do people type so hard?  I got it.  You have a laptop.  You don't need an office.  Got it.  There must be a Facebook group for that annoyance.  Anyway...  It was the perfect time for me to get lost with their cups.  Gimmick?  I don't care.  I like a good one.  And I discovered that they've quote one of our favorite movies.

"While I really do prefer emeralds we could have made it on green glass."

"Thoroughly Modern Millie"

  

  Today, sweet graffiti on cups is a favorite.  Here's another side of my cup.  Take something from it.  That's the point.

I'm also a sucker for bookcovers.  I judge.  But don't we all?  

-Erika 

It's Friday & I'm In Love "Music"

You can always tell when school starts up again because I go "blog silent" . . . things happen and the blog suffers. I took a bunch of photos last week, but it was either process them or grade some essays. Guess which one I picked? Happily, the essays are all graded, and I'm caught up. So that brings me to this week's "lovely" topic, and it's an easy one: music. Honestly, I'm shocked that neither one of us has tackled it up to this point because music is so integral to our lives.

Let's face it, we all have a connection to certain songs, certain songs that will rock you to your very core. You remember where you were when you heard one song. Another brings you to tears each and every time. Some will transport you back in time 30 years when you could, in fact, rock that ponytail. There's music to chill by, music to cook by, music to grade by . . . hell, there are a fair amount that you can fuck by, but who's counting (me . . . seven, but that's another Friday). Over the years, I would like to think that I've refined my taste into some respectable categories, but I would be lying. Case in point, I'm listening to Ke$ha's "Take It Off" right now because it's catchy. Do I honestly think it has artistic merit? Hell, no. But the chick knows who to spin a tune . . . or at least her producers do.

Instead of listing all the music that I like - and believe me, there is a ton of it - I'll focus on just ten songs that I don't think my life would be the same without. Yes, I could live without them, but I would be a bigger bitch than I already am (but I did try to find some nice videos for you so I can't be that big of a bitch).

1. "Breathe Me" by Sia - There is something about her voice, the way that she starts by asking for help. I've been known to watch a really crappy trailer for a movie if they use this song or not turn away from a super-depressing commercial about cancer research just to hear it. 
2. "California Waiting" by Kings of Leon - I'm pretty sure that if you've read a few posts, you might know that I love the Kings. I've officially seen them more in concert than any other band, including U2. It is happy, peppy, and, as an added bonus, you can kinda, sorta understand all the words (but I don't like this version that much).
3. "Show Me What I'm Looking For" by Carolina Liar - I love the end of this song, where the chorus breaks the normal pattern and the symphony kicks in and the bells chime. Not quite chill-bump inducing, but nonetheless, it's pretty brilliant. 
4. "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" by Jim Croce - From the introductory plonk of the piano, I can tell you exactly how my dad would dance with me as a four-year old. Nothing makes me feel like a kid again . . . nothing. But then again, I wanted to be Dorris for the longest time.
5. "The Reflex" by Duran Duran - While we're on this trip down memory lane, let's visit the 80's. There's a special place in my heart for Duran Duran. I loved Simon LeBon and probably would have thrown my bra at him had I been to a concert in their heyday. My first time seeing the Double D's? Three years ago . . . where a co-worker and I nearly got popped for open container in New York City. 

6. "In the Sun" by Joseph Arthur - If you haven't heard this song, go have a listen . . . I'll wait. It was featured in Saved, which is an amazing movie, and pretty much makes the movie extra special. It's not a song that will always make me cry, but it pushes me over the edge. 
7. "Babylon" by David Gray - The first time I heard this song? Heading to Ohio on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, just about to crest the hill where they post the sign that you've left the Chesapeake Bay Watershed. Dave bought me the CD on one of his trips to Canada because it came out three weeks earlier than in the States. 
8. "Thoroughly Modern Millie" by Julie Andrews - Yes, it's a show tune. Yes, I love it. No, I never got to see it on Broadway. I just love this song . . . and I have no explanation for it. 
9. "Life On Mars" by any artist - Prime example of the song being the focal point. I like it by David Bowie, Arcade Fire, Seal . . . hell, I even like it by Popshop and Seu Jorge. And the fact that it was the title of one of my favorite British serials doesn't hurt either. 
10. "Bad" by U2 - Honestly, I could have chosen several dozen, but that would have skewed the list a bit. "Bad" makes feel like I am 15 again, sunbathing on my grandparents' farm, wondering my a certain basketball player had yet to call me. Back then, I was probably moping while trying to look the part of a sunbather; now, I would say, "F**k You!" which is the name of the song by Cee Lo Green that is running on iTunes . . . his asterisks, not mine).

Happy Friday and enjoy the weekend!
- Jill, who just bought a Justin Bieber song . . . but don't tell Mom

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Labor Day Camping

I'll be very simple with my Favorite today.  I love Labor Day camping.  Done.  That's it folks.  I love it.  It's my favorite time of the year.  It's three days of camping, beer, friends, conversation, & no kids.  That's right, you heard it.  No kids.

Here's a little photo love from last year's adventure.  2010 you'll be a good one.  I can feel it.

{Bags Deep & Susan's Pound Hole=Why Kids Aren't Invited}

-Erika

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Ice Cream for Breakfast

In keeping with my quiet Internet week, I'll take you step-by-step through my Favorite for today.  Don't forget the links because I got a feeling you might want some.  It's just a feeling...

{toasting}

{churning}

{loving}

Recipe.

Model.

Happiness was mine this morning.  And it will be mine for lunch & dinner.  How can the day get any better?  

-August Break

-Erika

It's Friday & I'm In Love: Back-to-School

Dear Erika -

So this isn't a "traditional" Friday post, but hear me out. In a week or so, your life will change pretty much forever. And in the tradition of being a good big sister - much better than the one I was growing up - let me offer some advice about back to school and what it will mean for you and the Boys, both from a parent's perspective and as a teacher's. If the list is too long, jump to the end for the "talking points."

My desk is kind of like my home away from home - it's filled will all sorts of crap

• The first day will be brutal. Never underestimate how much sleep you will need the night before and how fleeting it will be. When you walk into the classroom, because I am assuming you will, be prepared for Cooper to let go. I'm serious . . . he will let go of your hand and walk away. And you will be there wondering what to do next. If you are like me, you will be inconsolably crying and trying to figure out if other people have noticed. They have and so has Cooper's teacher. The beauty of this is, she's seen it all before, but you still need to turn and walk out the door. Don't wait for Coop to turn around and wave like they do in the movies . . . it doesn't happen. 
• That first afternoon? It might be brutal, too. He might not want to share what he did. He might not be that interested in school. He might not want to go back. But most likely, Coop will be tired as hell, so let him watch some Phineas and Ferb and be done with it. Because he's tired, that bedtime will come earlier than normal . . . and you will thank him when he goes to sleep. 
• While he's in bed, you will have a shit-ton of paperwork to do. Fill out this form, read this crap, send back this copy but not that one . . . it's mind numbing, sweetie. However, his teacher probably went to a lot of trouble assembling that information in to one nice and tidy little packet. Return it to her the next day in the same nice and tidy little order. 
• Speaking of his teacher, present and future, this person will see Cooper eight hours a day for five days a week. She only sees this side of him: the side that sits in a desk or plays with his new friends or won't stop talking no matter where she tries to move him. She doesn't see the Cooper who laughs at Becket's silly jokes or snuggles on the couch. Truthfully, that's fine because you don't see the Cooper she does. Some kids are different at school than they are at home, but don't think that he is the same in both places. 
• At some point in his academic life, Coop will have a teacher who doesn't "get" him. He might come home and insist that his teacher hates him and nobody else gets in trouble and he's being picked on. Chances are he's 99.9% wrong. I've taught over 1,000 kids and can honestly say that I've never hated a single one. Sure, there were unmotivated ones or kids who just could have cared less where they were but actually hating a kid? Never happened. Kids sometimes can't figure out what is going wrong at school or what role they have in the situation, so they look at the adult and can't figure out why Mrs. So-and-so doesn't fix the problem right away like Mom does. That failure, real or imagined, gets translated as "she must hate me." Trust me, there are tons of kids I just didn't "get" . . . chances are they didn't "get" me either. 
• If Coop is riding the bus, you know darn well what goes on when kids are on the bus. Nine times out of ten, the bus driver will keep the kindergarteners away from the "big" kids, but Cooper may hear words he never heard before. Then again, with me as an aunt, he's heard them all before . . . but nobody will be there to remind him that this type of language isn't acceptable from him.  

The first day of school is exciting for everyone . . . but so tiring

 
• Let's say that you need to contact Coop's teacher. Find out from her what her preferred method of contact is. If it's email, use it but don't abuse it. If it's by phone, don't expect an immediate response, but if she doesn't call back in 26 hours, call again. If it's in writing, for god's sake, make sure you write it on a clean sheet of paper . . . not on the back of a Target receipt. You really don't want to be that parent. Trust me. 
• Probably right before Thanksgiving, you will need to have your first parent-teacher conference. Undoubtedly, they are the most nerve-wracking thing you will have to do in a long time (hell, they even put PAP smears to shame). You'll feel like you are ten and being called down by Sister Mary Margaret for something you know damn well you didn't do. Here's a little secret: as much as parents dislike conferences, teachers dislike them even more. At least 25% of our appointments don't show up, even though reminders were sent home on numerous occasions. Probably that same amount of parents never even bothered to make an appointment . . . and those are the parents we really wanted to see. So sign up for a conference, be on time, smile and ask questions, and leave Becks at home. As cute as he is (and he is cute), the conference isn't any place for him.
• If you want to get his teacher a small present for Christmas, please stick to this list: gift cards, gift cards, gift cards. Don't buy a candle (too many to count) or a Christmas decoration (too many to count) or send in homemade cookies (she might have an issue eating homemade food from students . . . many of us do). Buy a gift card, pop that baby in an actual card, and attach it to a small ornament. If you insist on buying a present, you can never go wrong with books. Think about what Cooper has brought home and buy a book along those themes. But go with the gift card.
• At the end of the school year, and it comes way way too fast, sit down with Cooper and ask him what he liked doing best. Write it down for you to keep, and then write his teacher a letter thanking her for everything she did this year. All too often, teachers feel as if the world is out to get them. We turn on the television and every day it is the same: teachers and education suck. Really, we don't, but we get it. However, every teacher worth his or her salt wants to make a difference for the better for students. And all too often, we don't think we are. These kinds of letters are few and far between, but they are probably the most cherished gift any teacher will ever receive. I couldn't tell you what Christmas present "Michelle" gave me, but I can quote you the "thank-you" letter she wrote me word for word some five years later. So,write that thank you letter and include what made the year special for Coop (and you).

Olive thought she was going to school . . . she's going on a trip soon, but not in a suitcase

 So, to recap with the talking points:

• First day: let him go (and don't wear mascara).
• First afternoon: give in on the television a little.
• That evening: do your paperwork and send it back immediately.
• Home Cooper is different from School Cooper . . . repeat.
• Mrs. So-and-so is probably not a meanie; she just has 26 other children who need some TLC, too.
• Bus = bad language and behavior, but he'll be fine.
• Find out how you should contact the teacher and stick with that method. 
• Parent-teacher conferences aren't fun for anybody.
• Presents? Gift cards. 
• When you reach the end,  write a sincere thank you to the teacher. It might just make her year.

That's it . . . I'm sure I forgot something, but you know how to reach me and I'll tell you the truth, completely unvarnished. I don't envy you that first day. The Girls never saw me cry, but I don't remember being led from the door, wiping the snot from the tip of my nose. Yup, I was that mom. So not cool.

Love,
Jill

It's Friday & I'm in Love: Fun Graffiti

-Erika
August Break

"It's Friday & I'm In Love" 35mm Lens

This post is heavy on photos . . . sorry in advance, but I really am in love - J

 
Dear Becky -

I think we've met once, no twice: first when Erika and I were headed to Evolve to put a down payment on my tattoo, and then again at Comfest that weekend. But I more than owe you a huge, huge thanks. When Erika and I were talking about lenses, I mentioned that I wanted to get a fixed/normal lens, and it concerned me because I couldn't figure out what to do: get the one that Erika has and then always, always, always manually focus it or just deal with the kit lens that I had. For a while, it seemed like I was opting with the kit lens because, let's face it, manually focusing for me would be painful. Trust me, it's not pretty . . . lots of grimacing and brow rubbing and more cursing per minute than a woman has a right to.

Apparently she didn't like how is smelled

"You know they make a 35 mm lens for the D40. My friend Becky bought one, and she's really happy with it," said Erika. She went on to mention something about taking the lens out back and showing it a good time, and you know what? You were right . . . this lens is amazing . . . I'd like to lick it all over, but I failed to buy the lens cleaning kit. Maybe next week I'll give it a run for its money when Dave and I are in Montreal.

We spend hours at this duck pond when the Girls were little . . . it was deserted today

 

Next time I'm in Columbus, drinks are on me. We'll let our lenses mix and mingle . . . who knows what they'll get up to. Enjoy your weekend, everyone! I'm participating in a photowalk tomorrow evening, and I'm kind of afraid that people will figure out I don't belong there because I really am figuring out this whole photography thing as I go. But knitting . . . knitting is easy.

- Jill

It will be a scarf eventually

 

Words to live by . . . they get me through the day

 

Raindrops are hard to capture . . . crap

 

I love this bag (but I love the lens more since you can see the knitting inside)

 

I really need a camera bag . . . Dave, I'd like this one for our anniversary . . . please?

"It's Friday & I'm In Love" Fresh, Frozen Herbs

How was your week? Ours flew by quite fast . . . hence a week without a post. I'm sure that Erika's had more to do with having no air conditioning, but honestly, I have no idea.

I've been doing more and more cooking this summer. It has a lot to do with the Girls leaving for their first apartment in a few weeks and really not knowing a whole lot about how a kitchen works. Trust me, they're not slow, but I've never placed a real emphasis on cooking in our home. When we bought the home, we bought it based upon charm and the price. It has gorgeous hardwood floors and moldings and the best tree in the world in front of it (seriously, it is the best . . . you won't sway me on that). Plus, it reminded me of my childhood home . . . and the price was right. But with that mindset, we gave up a lot. We don't have air conditioning (but we've lived without it for so long that I really don't bat an eye when people tell us they don't have air cough, cough . . . my sister) or a dishwasher or more than five square feet of counter space or more than 2.5 closets. Cooking, and the cleanup that goes with it, is kind of challenging. So, we ate out quite a bit partially because the Girls were busy all through school but more because of the lack of anything in the kitchen.

Even so, I enjoy cooking a lot. The way that the flavors meld together and work their scents throughout the house . . . priceless. And for me, there is nothing in the world like the smell of cilantro. It simply smells green. Seriously. Go break off a few leaves in the grocery store and crush them between your fingers. It smells like green. If Crayola could figure out a way to make crayons smell of anything other than wax, which I happen to think is pretty divine, leaf green would smell of cilantro.

In the past, I would use whatever I needed in a recipe and then the rest of the cilantro - or any type of herb - would languish in the fridge and then go all squiffy and slimy and gross. For some reason, even though I saw the little cubes of frozen herbs in the freezer section at Wegmans, I never even thought of doing it on my own. Until now.

Maybe it's the fact that the Girls are leaving for their first apartment and will be cooking their own meals. Maybe it's the realization that I am getting slightly more frugal in my old age. Maybe it's trying to save money for a new lens and bag . . . whatever. The process was so simple that I really should have done it a long time ago. Rinse, chop in mini-food processor, spoon in to ice cube trays, fill with a little bit of water, freeze, pop out and put in freezer bags. In mid-January, when I need a little something to remind me of warmth of summer, "fresh" cilantro on some pasta will more than fit the bill.

Enjoy the weekend! And if you can think of any simple, easy to cook recipes for two Girls, leave me a link in the comments.

Jill

"It's Friday & I'm In Love" Big Brother

There are absolutely no photographs that relate to today's post in any way, shape, or form. They are all from Picture Summer, which Erika and I are participating. Her username is {.erika.} and mine is jillapeno (long story, not worth the retelling). My photos are kinda derivative, but it's getting easier to take them. If you are participating, let us know!
 
It's no real secret that we are reality show whores. Rock of Love? Daisy of Love? Train wrecks, both, but train wrecks that we couldn't look away from. American Idol? For a long, long while, start to finish. The Amazing Race? This is the show that I want to be on. The Bachelor? A girl has her limits . . . but Joe Millionaire, whoa, that was priceless. There have been a few new reality shows that have jumped to the limelight recently (The Fabulous Beekman Boys, Tough Love AND Tough Love Couples) but none - not a single one - can hold a candle to our guilty pleasure: Big Brother.

If you started watching Big Brother from the word go, you may have stopped watching it that first season, and I really wouldn't have blamed you one little bit. The people were too honest, too earnest, too eager to please. Plus, the folks who went home were determined by a national vote. This might have worked in just about every other country, but for some reason, it didn't really gel well here. It was, truly, boring. But the following year . . . whoa! It was the year of Dr. Will and Mike Boogie and the word "showmance." You started to see people showing their true colors, people who were motivated by a big money payout and who did just about anything to stay in the game.

Last summer was Dramatic, which is very, very typical for the show. That "drama" might be why people turn in because sometimes our lives get a little boring. Sure the kids spice it up now and then, but lots of our days - mine, in particular - follow a pattern in the summer. Take Friday. Here is the schedule: laundry before the house gets too hot, dishes during the cycles, pizza for dinner, something that we taped on the DVR. Patterns? Hell, yes. But Big Brother? Escape from reality. I get to watch other people's lives from a safe distance, try and figure out how they can be so naive, and then sit back and watch it all unravel.

The "cast" was revealed last night, and there were a few things that bothered the hell out of me. First, there was a decided lack of ethnicity. It's a mistake, I think. I look at my friends, and we are pretty diverse. A second thing? Several cast members proclaiming themselves "certified genius" . . . dumb mistake, because the smartest people are usually the first to make a hasty exit. They always think they know the game and then make a rookie error. The final mistake: the goofballs. Where the hell are they? Yes, you had the requisite "boobalicious" chick and a blond-girl-who-wants-to-bond-with-the-stereotypical-gay-man-who-likes-the-hunk, but the goofballs are missing.

So this summer (and early fall), I'll be tuning into CBS on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, doing my best to avoid searching the blogs for some spoilers. I don't really know who the saboteur is (the big "expect the unexpected" this season) nor do I really have a favorite. I could do without the red head relying on her boobs to get some attention, but I like the deputy sheriff . . . she's 40. I have to stick with my age group.

Enjoy the weekend!

- Jill

PS - I would willingly go on The Amazing Race with Erika or about five other people. When they did a "family" edition, Dave and the Girls and I joked that our family would be referred to as the "Beep Family" since we would give CBS's censors a run for their money and probably break the budget on the beeps.

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Fourth of July Christmas Trees.

Growing up there was one holiday in our house.  Christmas.  My mom loves everything about it.  She has one Christmas sweater to wear on each day of December.  Truth be told, she probably has enough to wear from the middle of November until New Year's Day.  I'm not a huge fan of Christmas.  I hate putting it up & I hate pulling it down.  My hatred has dwindle since having children, but I will never reach my Mother's fanatic love of Christmas.

When I met Mark, he introduced two "new" holidays: Halloween & Fourth of July.  I'd guess that Halloween is his big one.  Why?  Our basement & garage are stuffed full of severed heads, limbs, & hands.  Plastic ones, but severed & bloody.  We've got more Bucky skeletons than one house should own.  And I shouldn't even know what a "Bucky skeleton" is, but I do & I deal with it.  This is about the time of year that we begin whittling down our 2010 Halloween costume ideas.  I'm hoping he doesn't read this because he might start asking & I hate those conversation.  Sexy Alien chick & astronaut?  No.  Zombie Mom?  No.  Sexy garbage collector?  No.  You get it.  The kids get it too.  My all-time favorite daycare question came three years ago in September.  "Umm, Erika?  Cooper said, 'My Daddy has a bunch of dead guys in the basement.  Want to explain?" his teacher asked taking a few steps back.  "Oh.  Those are this year's decorations he's working on." I explained without thought or worry.  Without that embarrassment or second thought, it was that point when I knew Halloween was becoming our family's holiday.  I don't love it, but I've come to accept it.

Second "new" holiday was Fourth of July.  Growing up, we watched firework displays but that's where it stopped.  Jill hates fireworks, so we actually watched less than most families.  But I never felt slighted.  It was any other summer night.  Over 13 years ago, Mark asked if I wanted to go to his family's Fourth party.  Why not?  We were a couple & that's what couples do.  He warned me that this is their big one.  Explained some of the pranks from year's past.  Bottle rockets planted under chairs.  Bottle rockets in make-shift guns pointed at you. Plastic on top of the pool.  A group jumps in & whoever gets out the fastest, wins.  Wicks exposed.  Lighters in hands of babes.  Sparklers waved all day.  One year, they filled a balloon with hydrogen or helium or some bad explosive gas (don't ask how they get stuff.  They just do).  My FIL walks over & lights a make-shift wick.  When it exploded, the windows shook & my MIL ran to him.  It's folklore that my FIL was thrown into the air & had Nam flashbacks, but no one will confirm that one.  He doesn't like to talk about it.

By the time I showed up, it was tame.  Maybe one too many accidents.  Maybe the clan had matured.  But then my FIL had a grand idea.  His Christmas tree had been sitting in the garage all year.  It had died a thousand times over.  The hot sun could have set this thing on fire.  "Why not decorate it with firework 'ornaments' & set it on fire?" he thought.  And so they did.  Every year, a huge group carefully fills the tree with bottle rockets & other small trinkets.  It's always topped with a spinning star.  The adults supervise & the kids poke.  One year, we had two.  A line connected them & a plane powered by more fireworks set the second on fire.  The trees are always finished with a generous splashing of lighter fluid.  Mark has helped light a few of the trees.  I have visions of him trying to get it restarted (that always happens & is never safe) & a stray (aren't they all) bottle rocket hitting him in the eye.  We all sit back very far, but still I wonder if we're far enough.

Last year, was my favorite year.  My FIL put a lot of thought into the starting of the Fourth Tree.  He didn't tell anyone.  And when it was ready to go, he walked out in costume to send 2009's tree to Christmas Tree Heaven.  My BIL filmed it & Mark created a movie for the family.  A long time ago, I spent a lot of time explaining the tree: No they are a trashy family!  Ok, I get it.  It's kind of weird.  It's sort of safe.  It's fun.  I promise.  You just have to see it.  Because I've learned to embrace their Fourth too, I'll share.  Enjoy.  Because come Sunday, I'll be watching the real thing.  I know you're jealous.

They're much safer now. I've never seen the plastic wrap pool thing. They have a sparkler line with a huge bucket of water sitting near the adults. Babes don't have lighters & the bottle rocket launch-spot is designated.  Everyone brings chairs & a side dish.  You find a spot & sit with your family.  You catch up on everything between one Fourth of July to the current one.  The tree decorating begins.  Adults & kids get giddy about how this year's will go up.  Everyone gathers & you watch it burn.  Back to the circles of family.  More catch-up time.  And when sun starts to dip, you find the bug spray & move your spot.  Everyone gets ready & strangers start to show up.  The last sparkler is used & the Puppy Chow is passed out.  And then the Fireworks are carted out & become organized.  These aren't regular backyard fireworks.  No.  Mark's uncle is too dedicated for those pussy ones.  These are the real deal kind.  The kind you'd find in a community's display.  Or in a secret spot in the back of a tractor trailer located in a parking lot.  And just when you think it can't get any darker, they start.  Last year, Becks hated it.  And I'm not sure how it will go this year.  We'll use the 2010's Christmas tree as our measuring stick.  Someday he'll fall in love with it.  Because it's in his blood. 

Happy Fourth!  However you celebrate it, I hope it's safe & exciting.
-Erika.

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Lush

"Official" transcript of conversation with Erika on Wednesday evening:

Erika: So, you're home now. You get to do the Friday, I'm in Love post.

Me: What the hell?

E: Think of something you're in love with.

M: How about milk? I love milk. (quietly puts the cap on the milk jug and puts it back in the fridge)

E: Umm, no . . . not milk.

M: What about Ezekiel Bread . . . I really like that now.

E: Not "really like" . . . LOVE.

M: You sure you want me to do this?

E: I'm going to bed.

For two days I pondered this question . . . and came up with nothing. Sure I love: my kids, my husband, my family, my job, sitting on my fat ass doing whatever I want until August 31, drinking coffee every morning, milk (can't do milk, can't do milk). So here goes. 

Lush. Lush. Lush. I'm not admitting to a drinking problem, but if I have to be in love with anything, it has to be Lush and their smelly goodness. I think my first Lush store was in England when Bridget and Shannon lived there, but I don't really remember. Dave knew from that trip on that we would be bringing back approximately one metric ton of Lush products every time we went. The beauty of Lush is that even if you aren't looking for it, you can find it simply by following your nose. The smell is unmistakable, pungent even. On a trip to New Orleans, I once smelled the shop from about three blocks away. The Girls thought I was nuts (probably still do) until they picked up the scent, too. 

A small, small portion of the Lush stash . . . minuscule if you ask me. 

 

So what's so good about this smelly little mess that is Lush? Just about everything. They made "all natural" and "handmade" cool well before the push made it to the mass retailers. Products look more like food, which is always a plus for me. There are huge chunks of ingredients in their soaps with magical properties. Funny names like 17 Cherry Tree Lane and Goth Juice and Sonic Death Monkey either evoke childhood memories or grown-up belly laughs. Either way, you put the soap in your little wicker basket and head to the register like a modern day Dorothy clicking her heals chanting, "There's no place like Lush, there's no place like Lush."

My favorite, can't live without it product is Ultrabland, an extremely hardworking but gentle makeup remover. Smear it on (about a fingertip's worth), wipe it off in the shower with a hot washcloth, you're good for the day. It's pricey (maybe $15 for a small container) but that small container will last half a year at least and for the most part, it leaves your skin so silky smooth that you don't even need any moisturizer. I haven't met a mascara that can stand up to Ultrabland. If I know that I'm visiting some place with a Lush, I'll check my stock of Ultrabland and grab a new pot. Otherwise, I'll invent a trip to New York City to buy some.

 Attempting to distract you with your pretty hydrangeas - for which I do nothing

If you've never tried Lush, give it a go. You might not have a store near you, but chances are, you have do. About six years ago, they started to crop up in Macy's and in larger cities. I used to come home from England with duffels loaded of the potent soaps and lotions. Now, I buy what I need when I visit Erika in Columbus . . . unless it's Christmas time. Then I stock up on Snowcake, the once-a-season soap that makes you want to lick yourself all-over . . . but that might be a post for "It's Saturday & I Have a Problem."

Jill

PS - I don't love the asshole beeping his horn at me this morning when I backed out of the driveway to let my husband out; so sorry I took up 10.7 seconds of your very precious morning . . . and that I flipped you off.

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Strawberry Head Popper Off Thing

Time for Round Two of "Friday I'm in Love".

I have a sweet spot for strawberries.  I remember being a toddler & hearing how my mom went strawberry picking a couple weeks before she had me.  Only now do I realize what a brave woman she was.  I was breech.  Sat pretty low.  And it was JUNE!  There's no A/C in strawberry patches!  I realize this because I carried Becket the exact same way, but during the winter.  I guess I only have the season to thank for my sanity.  But he was a pound heavier.  That might make us even.  I think during the seventies & early eighties there was a Strawberry decorating boom too.  I remember strawberries every where.  Kitchen towels.  Pot holders. Fabric.  Skirts & hats.  And I can't not mention Strawberry Shortcake.  But I was a Lemon Meringue kid.  I can still smell the chemical lemon scent being blown on my face from the Blow Kiss Dolls.  1982 rocked.  Back to actual strawberries though...

In our family, we claim things in our Parents' house.  Big things are marked with a masking tape name plate.  We figure that when it's time to pack it all up these little name plates will make the difficult much easier.  We're all leaving one day & you can't take it with ya!  I thought every household operates this way.  They don't.  But that doesn't stop me from asking my MIL to let me put my name on things in her house.  She's got a dog teapot that is adorable.  Trust me.  The other thing was this strawberry tool.  The tiny corer came from Pamper Chef & you might think it's unnecessary.  You might think anyone using it is pampered or spoiled.  Well, you'd be right.  One scoop & the whole top is off!  Way faster than a paring knife!  And safer if you have my thumbs.  When I mentioned that I was going to write my name on it, she said "Take it."  I think she said she has two.  I hope she does because I can't imagine living without it.  But then again, all my Moms are unselfish.  She might just have had one & now her strawberry top popping is much harder.

We got a perfectly ripe pint of strawberries this week & I was afraid they'd go bad.  I'm a little nutty because the entire box could have been polished off in 60 seconds by my clan.  I wanted a jam recipe that I could make with stuff I had on hand & one that used a small amount of the berry.  I searched & this one popped up fast.  With good reason too.  It taste like heaven & hell mixed into a pot of gold.  I didn't have the wine on hand (shock) or the green chile.  But I thought it was worth the grocery trip.  Sure was.  It isn't really a jammy as a jam.  More of a drizzling jam.  It doesn't matter cause it taste good on whatever you dip in it.  Saltines?  Yep.  Graham crackers?  Oh yeah.  Your fingers?  Gross, but yes.  Vanilla ice cream?  You bet your 1982 Strawberry Shortcake Blow Kiss Doll is does!

Later this week, there will be no investigative piece!  This Strawberry Head Popper Off Thingie is a Favorite!  And so is the spicy jam!

Keep your fingers crossed for my belly that rain stays away.  If it does, you'll find me knuckle deep in a strawberry patch.  After all it's summer. 

Erika

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Poker Face All Glee'd up

I missed it.

But Becky shared it.

And I'm in love.

Madly.

"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Starbucks Ice Tea cups.

I have lots of favorites. So many that I forget to share. I figured that I'd use Fridays to pass these along.

It's no secret that Starbucks is one of my all-time favorites (all-times: My camera, Dyson, Bare Minerals, Ingenue tea pot). If you tell me that they dye sawdust to match the coffee grounds & then mix them into every pound, I'd say, "Genius!" When I was pregnant with Becket, the logo alone sent me drifting towards Happiness. When I walk past a location & I smell the Pumpkin Spice syrup, I know it's fall. I look up & sure enough the leaves are orange, brown & crispy. Via? Via-rrific!  Starbucks just makes me happy.

A couple years ago, I saw a McDonald's vs. Starbucks challenge on CNN. Apparently, McDonald's coffee won hands down. I think the clown rigged the challenge because there's no way it's better than Starbucks. McDonald's coffee taste like burnt Styrofoam and it's hot as hell! Remember the woman that sued for hot coffee? I don't blame her! If I spill a Tall Starbucks on my Girlie Goods, they'd be numb. If I spill a small McDonald's on my Girlie Goods, the GYNO at the ER would have to ask, "Are you done with kids? Cause you are."

What more could Starbucks do to impress me?  Let me share. It's something I can't believe I've lived my summers without. I've seen the ice tea tumblers for the past couple of summers. I really don't need one more reusable cups.  Honestly.  But my mom is obsessed with this style of cup. They have half a dozen because they don't sweat. When they travel, they seek out this type of tumbler.  Since Ma knows best, I decided to pick up the small one. I had them fill it with an ice tea. Screwed on the lid & went to the grocery. I left the cup in my hotbox of a car & did my shopping. An hour later & my ice tea was still freezing! Best part? No dripping. No embarrassing "Looks like I pee'd my pants" stain. Just glorious ice-cold tea. I'm pretty sure that my A/C in the car is breaking down, so I might need the big tumbler after all.

Erika
p.s. Jill these would be perfect in your house.  But since you're my Big Sister, you probably already know this & have 8 of them.  And if you do, shame on you for not using your Big Sister role properly!

p.s. again!  Have a nice holiday weekend!  Ours is shaping up to be a good one filled with lots of friends.