6/9/13

1 The Little Things

Are mimosas solely a breakfast/brunch thing? 

Not in this house. It's 7:00 on Sunday evening and I'm drinking one right now. That's because mimosas are an anytime thing; they're good for any given hour. When we walked our girls to the dog park this evening, I told Tod that I thought a mimosa might be fun. As it so happens, we had orange juice and a bottle of champagne in the fridge--we try to be prepared for mimosa moments--so boom, there you go. Because it's the little things.

(Of course, we are having leftover venison chili for supper, and I'm not sure mimosas and deer meat go hand in hand--is that like wearing pearls with your camo? I'll worry about that later, or we'll just eat later.)

Like I said, it's the little things.

Speaking of the little things, this weekend did not disappoint. It was filled with so many of them (like most weekends are), and I did my best to take note.

The little things . . . 

Like the meals we shared with family, one of which included a very special magic show put on my sister's oldest two.

Like the last-minute day off I received on Friday. (Thank you, tropical storm Andrea; I'm finally caught up on my housework!)

LIke the hydrangeas blooming in the yard. (One bloom has found its way into a Mason jar on our table.)

Like the fact that our littlest girl likes to sit at the table in the chair next to me while I blog.


Did I say sit? I meant sleep.

Sitting or sleeping, either way I love her company. There's nothing quite like her moral support.

Because it's the little things, right?

Like making a jar of pickles even though I don't like pickles . . . because making pickles sounds fun. 

Like showing up at church at 8:45 when it doesn't start until 10 . . . because we've been out of town for so many weekends that we didn't know about the summer schedule.

Like giving my husband a haircut on the front stoop . . . because yes, apparently we are those people . . . and because it's so much more fun to cut human hair than it is to cut doll hair (but don't tell your six-year-old that).

Like playing in the dirt and planting edible things . . . because even though our garden is a mostly concrete thing secured by an HVAC unit, we're all about using what we've got.

Speaking of our "mostly concrete thing secured by an HVAC unit," I guess I can mark an item off the Project Thirteen list: "grow thirteen edible plants." Because after a trip to Lowe's yesterday, I've got thirteen edible plants in the dirt (although whether they're "growing" is a different question entirely). Our thirteen plants are: rosemary, green peppers, red peppers, jalapeno peppers, sweet basil, purple basil, spicy oregano, sweet mint, okra, cherry tomatoes, grape tomatoes, container tomatoes, and flat leaf parsley.


Before I could get our new edibles in the dirt, I had to tackle our "mostly concrete thing secured by an HVAC unit." 




I'm not a neat cook, and I'm certainly not a neat gardener. 

Tod just loves to catch me at moments like this.

I tamed the jungle, if only a little bit. It just brings out the best of that HVAC unit, wouldn't you say?


And now we'll see what grows. 

Oh, and I made a ton of cole slaw this weekend. Because what else was I supposed to do with a head of cabbage, a bunch of rainbow carrots (yes, those really exist), and a green pepper?


 Here's to the little things.

6/3/13

2 Hooky

Tod had a trial in McClellanville last Thursday so I decided to play hooky and tag along, although I guess it doesn't really count as hooky because I had permission to skip work and because I had reasons for going. My reasons for going: (1) it's not often that I get to spend part of the workday with my husband, even if it is just riding in the car, and that time together is the kind of thing I think crazy busy people probably look back on their lives and wish they'd had more of, and (2) I'd never been to McClellanville--yes, I'd driven right next to it many times, but I'd never actually turned off Highway 17 to give the town a proper visit. Oh, and there was the bit about lunch. My third reason for tagging along was the old-fashioned country buffet at Buckshot's that we'd been wanting to try. I ate two plates of macaroni and cheese and fried chicken (among other things) and was so full afterwards that I felt positively drunk on the way back to Charleston. 

Because I spend a lot of time in a courtroom as it is, after I met everyone in the courthouse (including the Judge's precious dog, Dixie) I headed outside for some fresh air. (Plus, I didn't want to make Tod nervous; his job and my job are two totally different creatures.) 

I found a towel in the trunk of the car, grabbed my book, and spread out beneath a live Oak dripping in Spanish moss. 


(My book, by the way, was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. It's a great young adult book, but be prepared to cry.)

My plan worked great until the landscaping crew showed up to mow the grass. But that's the kind of thing that happens sometimes.

The next plan: sightseeing.

For those of you who have never turned off Highway 17 to give McClellanville a proper visit, the next time you have 20 minutes to spare, consider making the turn, especially if it's shrimp season and you want to take some home for supper.


The houses in McClellanville look like this . . .


and this . . .


and this.




The churches look something like this . . .  


(Sorry for the blurry pictures; I took them from the window of a moving car.)

And the public pier looks like this.

So yes, McClellanville is seriously charming. Why Hollywood hasn't discovered it yet is anybody's guess, but I think it's the sort of place that makes you want to write a book, or at the very least, read one, preferably while sipping something cool from a front porch overlooking the water. Am I right or what?


6/1/13

0 Dogs on the Beach

We love our dogs.


Our dogs love the beach.


We love the beach, too. 


(But I'm pretty sure you already knew all of that. And don't correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't I just do a little something with the transitive property up there?)


Anyway, like a good classified ad, we also love long walks on the beach. (Who doesn't?)

We took one tonight--four humans and four dogs--and it went a little something like this:













 Summer is here. Happy June.

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