Yesterday we went to a great party out in the Sonoma hills. The guy who owns the property is a chef, and many of the guests were foodies. We roasted a pig for most of the day, drank wine and let the kids run wild with water guns. As usual the men did nearly all the cooking (yummy, for so many reasons). Roasted beet salad (two different kinds), roasted corn, white and green bean salad, then 30 different desserts.
The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the company great. About 60 people (not including the rug rats) many of whom I didn't know. It was a beautiful day.
After the party we walked the 1/2 mile back the car. Juju was exhausted, nearly asleep (read 30lbs of dead weight) and I had to carry her. As I was walking I had this random thought occur to me: If I were in the Sudan and both of our lives were dependent on my being able to carry her, how far could I go?
Not far enough or fast enough, I fear. The road was dirt and gravel and I kept slipping in my sandals. She felt so heavy. Such a sweet, heavy burden. And though fear for our lives would certainly a strong motivator to keep going, I couldn't help but think about what a weakling I am.
I realize the juxtapostion of these two thoughts is rather odd. Darfur and Sonoma. They don't have much in common. But I think this may be the work of my conscience, trying to keep me grounded and appreciative of the good things in my life, as I walk home, tipsy and happy from a day in the sun.
Courtesy of onepaw
A 25 month-old break-dancing baby.
No kidding.
Must watch.
http://deejaydog.vox.com/library/post/breakdancing-baby.html
Saw this sight the other day at the San Francisco Zoo:
It is exactly what you would expect. If you liked it on tv, you will like the movie. If you are expecting a plot you can follow, or that makes sense, go back and watch the tv show again so that you are properly calibrated. Good soundtrack. Colin Farrell is way more yummy than Don Johnson.
Includes all the violence the censors wouldn't allow on tv - including some spectacular head shots.
Every good drama needs an epilogue and the World Cup is no exception. Luckily, the French have a great capacity to laugh at themselves (and anyone else who happens to be in the way) and a couple of guys have come up with a very danceable song parody for the Zidane head-butting incident. Of course a song wasn’t enough. They also needed a video:
Cute, you say, but I don't speak French. What the hell are they saying?
Here are the french lyrics (with a little translation on the side)
Coup de Boule (Head butt)
Attention c'est la danse du Coup de Boule! (Watch out, it's the head-butt dancing song!)
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule à droite (head butt to the right)
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule à gauche (head butt to the left)
Coup de boule, coup de bouleAllez les bleus! (Go Blues)
Allez, (Go!)
Zidane il a frappé, Zidane il a tapé (Coup de boule!)* 4x (Zidane he struck, Zidane he hit)Le rital, il a eu mal (The wop he got it bad)
Zidane il a frappé (Zidane struck him)
l'Italien ne va pas bien (The Italian isn't feeling well)
Zidane il a tapé (Zidane hit him)
L'arbitre l'a vu à la télé (The ref saw it all on TV)
Zidane il a frappé (Zidane struck him)
Mais la coupe on l'a ratée (And we lost the cup)
On a quand même bien rigolé (Nevertheless we had a good laugh)Zidane il a frappé, Zidane il a tapé (Coup de boule!) 4x
Trezeguet n'a pas joué (Tray-zay-gay he didn't play)
Quand il a joué il a raté (When he played he failed)
Il a tout fait capoté (He totally fucked it up)
La coupe on l'a ratée (He lost the Cup)
Barthez n'a rien arreté (Barthez didn't stop a thing)
C'est pourtant pas compliqué (It's really not that complicated)
Les sponseurs sont tous fâchés (The sponsors are mad)
Mais Chirac a bien parlé (But Chirac said nice things)Zidane il a frappé, Zidane il a tapé (Coup de boule!) 4x
Attention c'est la danse du Coup de Boule!
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule à droite (head butt to the right)
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule à gauche (head butt to the left)
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule avant (head butt to the front)
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Coup de boule arrière (head butt to the back)
Coup de boule, coup de bouleEt maintenant penalty (And now the penalty)
Attention il va tirer (Watch out he's going to kick!)
un, deux, trois...c'est raté! (One, two three...he missed!)Zidane il a frappé, Zidane il a tapé (4x)
On a quand meme bien rigolé (Nevertheless we had a good laugh)
Zidane et Trezeguet (Zidane and Trezeguet)
La coupe on l'a ratée (They lost the Cup)
Zidane et Trezeguet (2x)
Et Trezeguet...et Trezeguet...et Trezeguet guet guet
Trezeguet
Coup de boule, coup de boule
et Trezeguet
Coup de boule, coup de boule
et Trezeguet
Coup de boule, coup de boule
et Trezeguet
Coup de boule, coup de boule
Trezeguet
Hey, it's the dance hit of the summer, don't be left out!
I don't know what Lure did to get relocated into the witness protection program of San Mateo, but I'm thrilled about it.
Great, great food - unless you hate spice. The chef has a magical relationship with peppers. Serrano chili vinagrette on big eye tuna. Yum.
All the black leather made me forget what town I was in.
Go there. I need them to stay in business.
Coolest whiteboard markers ever! Not only are they magnetic, but they have a built-in eraser at the top. Am I the last to know?
Play any instrument or speak any language, which do you choose?
Question submitted by cruftbox.vox.com.
No question, I wish I could play the piano.
When I was little (little = 8) my parents signed me up for piano and flute lessons. My mother was a very accomplished pianist and she wanted to reinforce our musical abilities (my sister took violin). This was a very good idea and I wish I'd had sense enough to go along with it. Instead I totally rebelled and did everything I could to get kicked out of piano lessons. I didn't study. I hid the music lessons from the teacher. I egged the other kids on to misbehave. I referred to the teacher as "Miss Puppy Dog Eyes," usually within her hearing*.
It worked. I was told to leave and never come back. Other teachers had similar reactions and the net result was that i never learned much beyond Chopsticks. Of course I quit the flute too, since the only place to play the flute was in band, and I didn't want to be a band-nerd. Uniforms. Marching. Blech.
I never even learned to read music, which may end up being one of my biggest regrets in life (although there is still time for this one, I think).
*similar tactics got me kicked out of the girl scouts too.
What's your favorite drink or cocktail? What's in it?
Question submitted by charm.vox.com
Winter: champagne (always french) and red wine [1]
Spring: white and rosé wine and sake cocktails (ramping up for cocktail season)
Summer: the height of cocktail season - margaritas, regular cosmos, rude cosmos, and as of yesterday, mojitos. And beer of course. When you're drifting down a river in 100+ degree heat there is nothing that beats a good beer. Negra Modelo is still my favorite. (click here for a little beer segue that claims I'm a "solid guy")
Fall: back to red wine, with the occasional gin and tonic - esp. when fishing in Montana. Why drink gin in Montana? I have no idea. It just feels like the right drink when you're in a fishing lodge with a bunch of guys, you're the only woman, and you can't drink whiskey.
The best cocktail shaker ever is called The Bullet. Of all the shakers I've tried, and there have been many ;-), this is the only one that doesn't leak (I have learned this sticky lesson too many times the hard way). The best version of The Bullet is the brushed stainless steel, but for some reason I can't find it any more (I used to give them as a gifts).
[1] Red wine and champagne are always in season
