The Book of Redecoration (King Parker James Version)

Okay, so revised plan #6 (I'll spare everyone the details on #2 through #5):

A grand total of ONE full dining room wall is Mink. (Let's play HGTV and call it THE FEATURE WALL, shall we?)

When we put the primer over the green walls, they turned a lovely shade of pale bluish-green, and I could not help but notice how bright and expansive the dining room looked in a lighter color (Revelation #1). I also could not help but notice that the primer-created shade was not unlike Wyeth Blue, my initial color choice (Revelation #2). Benjamin Moore had been out of samples of that color, but I had grabbed a tester of Palladian Blue, which seemed to be a similar shade, on my way out of the store, intending to try it in the bathroom. I slapped some of that on the dining room wall and could not help but notice that it was the same color as several decorative accessories that were in that room (at that particular moment, heaped in a pile on top of the "Island of Relocated Furniture" floating mid-dining room) (Revelation #3).

I went back to the BM fan deck and discovered that Palladian Blue was on the same card as Wyeth Blue - just one shade lighter, and one of my initial concerns with Wyeth Blue was that it was a shade too dark. Revelation #4.

I called my mother, who had phoned earlier in the day raving about a brown room in Traditional Home that had a light blue ceiling. When I shared my successful experiment with Palladian Blue, she basically shrieked, put the phone down, and then I heard the sound of frantically turned pages before she returned to the line and said: "Ceiling paint: 1/2 formula Palladian Blue." Her coveted ceiling, my test patch on the wall - same color, with just a little extra white mixed in. Revelation #5.

After my trip through the Book of Revelations, we determined that the remaining dining room walls should be painted a diluted shade of Palladian Blue above a (currently non-existent) chair rail, with Mink below that.

Meanwhile, we'd already gone rogue in the living room, painting all but the area above the mantel a great taupe-y shade called Greenbriar Beige. At the last minute, we decided that Mink above the fireplace would (a) make the architecture of the fireplace jut-in more pronounced, (b) better highlight the art that hangs over the fireplace and (c) create a sight line from the dark brown fireplace area to the dark brown leather chair to THE FEATURE WALL.

As Mink out of the can looks exactly like Hershey's syrup, "Toast with Nutella" is out as a description for the overall concept. New name: "The Hershey's Bar with Almonds Suite." (Note to Hershey's parent company: Formal naming rights are available at a very reasonable price point.)

So . . . in keeping with the Biblical theme of this post, I can report that our rooms have received a (wait for it) coat of many colors. Second, and final, coat goes up tonight, with touch-up tomorrow. FYI, if you have never painted with Benjamin Moore, here's my testimony (STILL with the religious stuff): it is SO worth the extra money. No drips, no splatters, and you can pretty much get away with one coat. Can I get a witness from the congregation?

Chair rail was purchased at lunch today. I had text messaged Parnell (1) the SKU information, name, dimensions and pricing of the molding I selected along with (2) the relevant aisle number at Lowe's and (3) directions to said aisle. Notwithstanding the foregoing, he declined to make the purchase on his own, so I had to meet him at the store. Insert comment about general male/husband quirkiness here. (Btw, he was immediately on board with the chair rail concept . . . in part because it permitted him to break out THE LASER LEVEL. Okay, I admit it - the thing is terribly useful, and terribly fun.)

Can't wait to send photos, primarily because it will mean that our work is substantially complete, and we are all so ready to get to that point. Over the weekend, I kept hearing my Blackberry vibrate, and I finally realized that in our haste to move everything to the center of the room it had been transported (along with the centerpiece bowl in which it had been housed) to the interior of the Island of Relocated Furniture. Excavation ensued . . . . Now the remote for the dining room fan is missing, meaning that we cannot turn on the overhead light, so painting in that space has to take place before dusk. Oh, well - we work well under deadlines.

Here I Go Again . . . .

Long before I knew my husband, I knew what color the living room in our first house would be. I had carried around the image (ripped from one of my mother's home decorating magazines) since college - maybe even late high school. But that was then, and this is now, and after ten years of being defined by my "Cactus Pine" walls, I am ready for a change. Credit (or, if you're my spouse, blame) my friend Melanie for (1) picking the coolest paint colors for her recent home re-do and (2) letting me borrow the Benjamin Moore fan deck. I really, REALLY wanted "Wyeth Blue" to work for the living/dining rooms (and I do plan to use it in the master bathroom), but it lent itself to some of the same issues that I have with the current green walls. Fact is, we have a LOT of "personal effects" (okay, let's call them what they are - "tchotskes"), many of which are multicolored, some of which clash with the green walls now and others of which would clash with the blue (which is a really pretty, cloudy pale blue with green mixed in - but I digress). While I'm pretty much to the point where I could part with all of the tchotskes, shedding nary a tear, the boys (the big one included) aren't having any of that, so the solution, as I see it, is to create a neutral palate and minimize all of the visual distractions that I can - given that, evidently, we are quite sentimentally attached to some elements of our visual clutter.

So which neutral palate to create? Rugs that I want to keep, and our Mitchell Gold sofa (which has not lived up to its hype, but it cost a small fortune, so it's staying), are taupe-y (or, according to MG, "Toast"). Other upholstered pieces are a dark chocolate brown. Case goods, in keeping with the age and style of our home, are late 19th century/early 20th century Arts and Crafts pieces in tiger oak (a warmer brown, midway between the other two shades in terms of intensity). Did I mention that Melanie picked the best colors? The best of the best being her kitchen/dining/living room selection - "Mink," a luscious dark hue reminiscent of the richest, fudgiest chocolate fudge. I've been obsessing over it since I saw it at her place - but I wondered how it would work amongst our festival o' brown tones. And then, like manna from heaven, arrived this month's "Elle Decor."

Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on "The Godiva Room," above. TGR is owned by one Mr. George Stephanopolous and his wife, Alexandra Wentworth, with whom I appear to share my decorating taste. Toast-colored drapes against a chocolate fudge wall. Ingenious! I am totally stealing the idea - and Melanie's "Mink" walls to boot. To seal the deal, I made my weekly recon trip to my fave antique dealer at lunch today (having found, and passed, on the perfect storage cabinet for my currently furniture-less west dining room wall - reconsidered, went back, and it was gone!). Lo and behold, I found the most gorgeous piece - oak, leaded Tudor glass - but the stain was a little bit darker than our other oak stuff. Dare I say it, a mink-ish shade? SOLD! Totally justifies the color scheme, and will look so good as the focal point on that wall.

Or, I should clarify, one of the focal points. We have a lot of photos of the boys, and to say that they are eclectically framed would be an understatement. Goldleaf, silverleaf, dark wood, bleached wood, whitewash - we have it all. And I recently identified it for what it is - a terrible eyesore - particularly with the frames as they are currently haphazardly displayed about the room. Enter magazine clipping #2, from Southern Living:

Love, LOVE the idea of putting the photos on a plate rack, after repainting several of them (I'm keeping some of the gold ones, and the wood tones that match our furniture, but the rest are getting whitewashed to match the mantel and crown molding). Of course, with two boys, it's a foregone conclusion that all of the frames would vibrate off of their shelves and crash to the floor within the first fifteen minutes . . . . Enter ingenious gadget #1 - the "Frame Riser" from Pottery Barn.

Current, Connor-and-Parker-proof plan is to create a plate rack effect on the wall (can't afford a good one, so I'm going to get creative with pieces of crown molding and architectural salvage stuff) and mount the frames to the wall with their little frame-y bottoms flush with the shelves, so it looks like they are propped rather than hung, and the Frame Risers will allow me to move some of the frames to the front for a three-dimensional effect.

I also like the toasty wall color in the Southern Living image, and I'm considering making the fireplace wall an accent wall (using Benjamin Moore's "Taos Taupe").

Cabinet for the dining room arrives tomorrow, and I fully anticipate that I'll have acquired paint and started painting before then. I just can't wait to get started on our "Toast with Nutella Room."

Monday, Monday . . . .

When I fired up Pandora this afternoon, the first song on the playlist was New Order's "Blue Monday," which had me wondering - random chance or a wink from the Pandora gods (goddesses)? The next selection was an uptempo ditty by a band called Suicide Commando off of an album titled "Bind, Torture, Kill." At this point, I decided that Pandora clearly has a serious case of the Mondays - and also, evidently, has profiled me as a devotee of synth pop (which is somewhat true).

My Monday has been decidedly un-blue - I went to the dentist this morning anticipating that X-rays would reveal that I had fractured a molar, requiring both a crown and a root canal. Actual diagnosis - I am a princess, and the bleepin' pea is in my mouth. Even the smallest mouth "issue" (in this case, a slightly receded gumline) unleashes a furious bout of tongue-prodding, inflaming the nerves and making my teeth feel huge and out of place in my head. I go to sleep, grind on the offending teeth all night, and wake up in tremendous discomfort, ready for another round of totally counter-productive tongue-prodding. The prescription - Sensodyne and a custom mouthguard. Heck of a lot better (healthier, more economical) than a crown and a root canal. I'm wondering if I'll have an easier time sleeping through the night with the mouth guard in place. Goofy that I am eagerly awaiting the phone call to tell me that it's ready for pickup?

Mad props to Dr. Raulston for not selling me a bill of goods. If you are looking for a dentist in the Metroplex that will tell it to you straight, give her a call!

Spring Has Sprung

On Friday night, I volunteered at the American Cancer Society's "Relay for Life," registering participants in the ACS's third Cancer Prevention Study. This is the first time that North Texas has been included in a CPS. Like the first two studies (begun in 1950 and 1980), CPS3 will track participants over two decades in an attempt to draw conclusions as to how lifestyle factors make you more or less likely to develop cancer. Today, we accept as fact that second-hand smoke and obesity are connected to certain types of cancer, but we only know these things because of the CPS program. Thus - as the child of two cancer survivors - I felt privileged both to have the opportunity to help with the registration campaign and to get to sign up as a participant. The commitment is such a simple one - an initial blood sample and a survey in the mail every other year. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy . . . .

We got up early on Saturday morning and stopped by the TCU Athletic Department's annual "garage sale." We were looking for tennis racquets (not sure why - we have six or seven between the four of us) and other sporting equipment, but by the time we got to the stadium all that was left were football and baseball jerseys and other apparel items. Saw a lot of grown men buying used football jerseys and wondered - what do they do with them? Wear them to games? If you don't have an actual connection to the team (either played at TCU or have a player as a family member), isn't that kind of - well, silly? I did think about getting one to use as a table runner if we ever get our act together and start tailgating.

Then we went to Yoko Donuts (formerly Yoko Sushi and Donuts - two food items you don't often see on the same menu, and you don't see them on the same menu at Yoko anymore, either!), which may have the best glazed donuts I have ever tasted. Between mouthfuls, the kids shared their career aspirations with us. Connor wants to be an Air Force pilot/cryptozoologist/Lego designer (apparently simultaneously). Parker wants to be a superhero - specifically, the Blue Beetle. I admire him for going with a less obvious choice - less obvious means less competition, right? His choice also evidences a certain maturity in terms of recognizing his own limitations: becoming Superman was out of the question, since (unless Parnell has been keeping something from me for the last fifteen years) neither of his parents hails from Krypton way, but any mortal, I am advised, can become Blue Beetle. You just need to find yourself a magic scarab (or, apparently, the scarab has to find you).

Saturday afternoon I met with some Junior Woman's Club folks to discuss plans for our May home tour. Our club is housed in Margaret Meacham Hall, one of the most beautiful historic homes in Fort Worth. Very few people have been inside it, and we are hoping that they will be willing to pay $8 per head to tour the home and learn about its history. (At one point in time it was a funeral home, which makes me think that we're missing an opportunity -"Mimosas at the Haunted Mansion," the ultimate girls' night out fright house experience?) We'll be asking local antiques dealers to stage various rooms as they would have existed in the house's heyday. Hopefully, the event will be a big success and will transition into an annual event.

Finally, today was the JWC Easter tea. In keeping with this year's art theme, the tea was styled as "A Tour of the Easter Bunny's Private Collection." Loved, loved, LOVED the table decor (egg cartons as paint palettes!) and the giant egg "masterpieces" on the front lawn. Got a great picture of Parker between Warhol's Marilyn and a Picass-egg. But the "Scream" egg was my favorite!

Miscellany

Happy birthday to Robyn! (Okay, it was last week, but this is the first blogging opportunity that I have had in awhile.) Her birthday dinner was a blast - Tex-Mex and margaritas at Joe T's, followed by Black Forest cake from Ridglea CC. Baby Greenleigh (pictured here) is a recent convert to the BF cake (but, given that she's a baby, she's a recent convert to pretty much everything!). We gave her some at the Moormans' Christmas open house, and she was instantly hooked. Love the way that her eyes are tracking the cake in this picture . . . .

Is anyone else wondering why the billboards for the Kimbell's "Art & Love in Renaissance Italy" exhibition feature Joey Tribbiani from"Friends"? (If you live in FW, take a good look at the guy in the middle of the painting, wearing what appears to be the Renaissance equivalent of a black leather jacket, and tell me that he doesn't look like Joey, complete with the patented Tribbiani "How YOU doin'?" expression. Or perhaps one of the T-Birds from "Grease"?)

Seen on a woman shopping at the Montgomery Street Super Target: a t-shirt that said, "Life is Better Blonde." Did I mention that she was brunette? Like, REALLY brunette, and it was obviously her natural color? I'm hoping that she is a big fan of irony, because otherwise we're talking about someone with a major self-image problem.

SHALL WE DANCE?

IT'S MARCH, Y'ALL! So you know what the McGlincheys are watching on TV, and it ain't "Dancing With the Stars" (that would be my mother and my grandmother). Apparently, not everyone in my peer group is as obsessed with NCAA basketball as I am - the Junior Woman's Club Spring Show was this week, meaning that I spent my Thursday and Saturday nights at Scott Theater instead of at a sports bar. (I did manage to "represent" on Thursday - burnt orange jacket, burnt orange ball cap with a rhinestone longhorn logo and a UT cell phone case, from which I extracted my phone each time my darling spouse texted me an update.)

This upcoming week being Spring Break, I'm feeling nostalgic for our law school days, when Spring Break meant hanging around the Erwin Center and watching first-round game after first-round game, and hollering ourselves hoarse, regardless of whether we had a dog in the fight. Best NCAA memories, tie:

(1) Purdue/Wisconsin-Green Bay in 1995, final score 49-48 (yeah, you read that right), ten corn-fed farm boys playing basketball in what seemed like slow motion (ever tried to watch paint dry?), and at the end of the game Parnell convinced one of the Wisconsin band members to give him his foam cheese hat as a memento. (The first guy he asked was sentimentally attached to his hat, as his band "big brother" had gifted it to him, but he helpfully shouted to the folks below him, "Hey, somebody give this guy some cheese." And cheese we were given. The former owner's name is written in it in Sharpie marker. It has a place of honor in our closet.)

(2) Arkansas/Texas Southern University, the same year. Final score: Arkansas 79/TSU 78. Halftime show score: Arkansas "pep band" 0/TSU "Ocean of Soul" one bazillionty trillion. Mind you, this was in Austin, in the heyday of the Texas/Arkansas rivalry, and the Razorback fans were in fine form (posing with their fingers up the nostrils of the Bevo statue, etc.), so we were kind of primed to cheer for TSU anyway, but seriously? Six guys with trombones, running in a little circle on the court, do not a halftime show make. The natives got restless and started shouting, "O-CEAN, O-CEAN, O-CEAN," completely drowning out the horns. When the OOS finally came out and did their thing - awesome, as always - the crowd went into a total frenzy (as a frame of reference, imagine the Jonas Brothers showing up unannounced at your local middle school). We figured it wasn't going to get any better than that (TSU, a 15 seed, had played a pretty abysmal first half against #2 Arkansas), and left for lunch. Turned on the radio and heard the words that no sports fan wants to hear when the stadium is in their rearview mirror: "Can you believe this? The underdogs have come from behind and are winning this game!" ABORT! ABORT! EXIT AND LOOP BACK! And then Arkansas won by a point. Grr.

So now Big 12 tournament time is upon us, and . . . whaaaaaaa? Missouri and Baylor? World's gone mad. Kinda fun, though. Made me think of this nugget that went around earlier this year - mostly relevant to football, but kind of applicable to basketball as well. (Note: When I received this the first go-round, the Texas entry ended with "Home of God's chosen people." I see that some hater has added "or so they believe." Perhaps a Razorback fan?)

IF THE BIG 12 CONFERENCE WAS THE MIDDLE EAST

BAYLOR: Lebanon. Everything they do is just a cluster, and no matter what they do, nothing ever seems to get better. Every once in awhile, they'll nip at the ankles of one of the larger nations, and annoy those other nations off just enough to where they're smacked down and consequently can't achieve anything noteworthy for the next ten years.

COLORADO: United Arab Emirates. An incredibly refined populace - probably because it's impossible to make it your home unless you're incredibly wealthy. Does its best to compete with its neighbors, but has resigned itself to being the playground of the region, instead of one of its traditional powers. Doesn't have a baseball team.

IOWA STATE: Afghanistan. There's really no reason that this nation should even exist, and if it weren't for previous colonial empires, it probably wouldn't. Easily overlooked over the last 300 years, its people are a ramshackle alliance of groups that don't belong anywhere else. Wishes to God, Allah, and whoever else that it would either cease to exist or be swallowed up by Pakistan to the south or the University of Iowa to the west.

KANSAS: Saudi Arabia. Not altogether a bad place; has had historical success in oil and basketball, and continues to be a world leader in those areas. However, parts of the ruling family tend to thrive on its excess, much to its detriment; a certain prince's fondness for American culture (especially for its sweet baked goods) could very well lead to its downfall.

KANSAS STATE: Armenia. No one wants to be here, especially the Armenians. What's more, nobody really knows where it is. First came to prominence just a decade ago, and nobody can really remember it existing as an independent nation before that. Primary exports: Corn, junior college transfers.

MISSOURI: Turkey. Still trying to figure out how it got mixed up in this region, anyway. They're a member of NATO. Shouldn't they be in the Big Ten?

NEBRASKA: Egypt. Was once a great power; its history, through the ages, is matched by few. Has languished in recent years, failing to recognize its new place in the world order as a follower, and not the leader it once was. Its people tend to be the friendliest to its neighbors, though still harboring a long simmering, yet contained, hatred for Israel.

OKLAHOMA: Iraq. Lies, cheats, and steals to get its way in the international community. If caught doing something wrong, or illegal, its excuse is that "everybody else has done it, we just get caught." No one wants to live here, but everybody that does wishes they could move away. Recently has undergone minor restructuring due to numerous ethics violations.

OKLAHOMA STATE: Syria. Nobody pays attention to them until they start mouthing off to the other nations around it. Will occasionally attack its neighbors, with varying success, with most of its successes coming in areas that others couldn't care less about, like wrestling.

TEXAS: Israel. Pretty much everyone else in the region hates them. Can destroy lesser countries at will using incredibly advanced tactics. Not relegated to the stone-age lifestyle of many of its neighboring nations. Home of God's chosen people, or so they believe.

TEXAS A&M: Palestine. Doesn't actually exist as an entity to really be dealt with, but loves nothing more than to take pot-shots at Israel, just to tick them off. Economy based on farming, with an emphasis on sheep. Continuously complains that they're the real power in the region, and that their status should supersede that of Israel. Religious zealotry abounds; small, infrequent attacks on its neighbors are hailed as 'moral' victories.

TEXAS TECH: Iran. Really, REALLY wants to be noticed in the international community. Will go so far as to fake the development of nuclear weapons, or choose homicidal, maniacal, self-aggrandizing men as their president/basketball coach, just to get noticed. Incredibly eccentric as a nation. Has a deep-seated hatred of both Israel and Iraq - and a huge inferiority complex to go along with it. Very arid, dry climate featuring frequent windstorms.

Birthday Party Blast From the Past

My friend Melanie's daughter asked for a monkey-themed birthday party, so I dug up these photos for her, and I thought I'd share them with the world at large. Banana is a pull-apart (cupcake) cake; sock monkey head was devil's food and delicious . . . .

Batman and Mardi Gras Update

(Because when you think of the one, you automatically think of the other, right?) Finally got around to watching "Dark Knight." Um, ick. Christian Bale - not as hot as cartoon Batman. Weak chin, kind of pasty, and, oh, God - that voice. Bruce Wayne voice was sort of okay, but when he was in the costume, I kept expecting him to grunt, "Ummm, french-fried potatoes" in the Billy Bob Thornton voice from "Slingblade."

Mardi Gras was fun, bread pudding recipe was DIVINE, and everyone really liked my Cajun pecans, which I served as-is and also chopped up and sprinkled over a Brie that was baked with pear preserves and brown sugar. Cathy, this recipe shout-out is specifically for you: Melt 1/2 stick butter and drizzle over 1/2 pound of pecans. Sprinkle with Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning to taste. Toss to coat, spread in a single thin layer on a baking sheet and bake 8-10 minutes. Store in airtight container.

Pecans also tasted great cooked up with some butter, shallots and rum and drizzled over baked white fish . . . .

Zebras Are Aggressive Panhandlers

. . . and none too bright. We took the boys to Fossil Rim over the weekend, and, although a number of the animals were quite cheeky and forward in their attempts to invade the cabin of the car, the zebras seemed to want to climb in and actually drive it. When we tried rolling up the window, they would leave their muzzles inside until the very last minute and darned near get trapped. Unlike our first trip, we did not have a giraffe stick its head down through the sunroof. Parnell was kind of disappointed about this.

Slide show follows. The extreme animal close-ups were not created via optical and/or digital zoom - the animals were really that "in-your-face". (In fact, I had to pull as far back as possible in the passenger seat to get the shots of them coming through the driver's side window.)

Click on the slide show to pull photos up to full screen and see captions.

Going Batty

Our kids' obsessions seem to progress in lockstep fashion. Both kids were totally gone for Thomas the Tank Engine until just after their (Thomas-themed) fourth birthday parties; then, at four years plus one day, we abruptly transitioned into "all Justice League, all of the time." While PJ is channeling Superman in this photo, both boys are in total and complete agreement that Batman beats all. Connor was Batman for Halloween two years in a row (okay, technically he was Batman the first year and Batman Beyond the second, and if you have boys in your life then you, too, know that the former is Bruce Wayne and the latter is Terry McGinnis, but I digress) and he enjoyed wearing his costumes - well, everywhere. The highlight was the evening trip to Walgreens with his dad: Connor, sporting the "old- school, non-muscle-chest" gray, black and yellow getup, refused to hold Parnell's hand in the parking lot ("because people will know that I'm not really Batman") and then serenaded folks in the office supply aisle with a very loud rendition of "Play That Funky Music, White Boy." Complete with choreography. Guess the anonymity of the mask and cowl is a bit empowering?

My oldest (at the age of four and a half) explained the appeal thusly: "Superman is a superhero because he was born an alien. Spider Man got lucky and was bitten by a radioactive spider. But Bruce Wayne is a superhero because he is smart and good at business." (Those of you who know Connor understand that he was born a miniature Donald Trump with better hair, so his opinion on the subject? Really, not all that surprising. However, we were quite amused to hear the Sheldon character on "Big Bang Theory" advance the same theory last season. Come to think of it, Connor's got a lot of Sheldon in him as well - but I digress again.)

Mom's also a Batman fan, but for another reason. See, the Justice League Unlimited version of Batman/Bruce Wayne? Totally and completely hot. Broad shoulders, barrel chest, piercing blue eyes, sexy-as-heck voice . . . definitely not the "kind of effeminate/hangs out WAY too much with Robin" Batman from my childhood. Clearly, the JLU people were marketing geniuses: if Mom happens to find the show less grating then - well, Scooby Doo, for one (Freddy and Shaggy - definitely not hot), she's less likely to protest when the kids chunk the DVDs in the basket at Super Target, right? To up the mom-friendly quotient, they've scripted it so that everyone hooks up with everyone - Wonder Woman is crushing on Batman, Green Arrow's got a thing for Black Canary, Green Lantern's involved in a love triangle, etc. It's like "Grey's Anatomy," only McDreamy can shoot laser beams out of his eyes.

Anyway, I've begun putting my Batman obsession to good use with Parnell. When he gets out of line, I throw the spectre of Bruce Wayne in his face. As in: "Bruce Wayne would not break his arm hanging Christmas lights. Bruce would have Alfred hire the whole manor done. Then he'd fly me to Tahiti for the holiday." Hey - it could happen.

Retail Therapy

Things I'm digging in February:

New scents from Bath & Body Works (Blushing Cherry Blossom and Dancing Waters), and old favorites like Enchanted Orchid
Slatkin & Co. Fresh Bamboo candles
Wide-legged denim trousers
My new Nicole Miller sunglasses with amber-tinted lenses (but I don't dig them as much as Lindsay's purple Lacoste shades, which she stubbornly refuses to give me)
My new hot pink Skullcandy earbuds (purchased to replace the old pair that the cat chewed through); they are total noise-cancelling awesomeness, plus they are cute, and none of the males in my family will go near them because they are pink
"Butterfly" and "Make It Mine" off of Jason Mraz's latest CD

The Mardi Gras Tree

I came, I decorated, I was satisfied . . . for awhile. And then I decided I wanted the darned thing out of my house. But it was up for the first three weeks of the year, and it made me feel very subversive. The gaudy tinsel is now filling a trifle bowl on top of a bookcase, various of the gaudy ornaments and the excess beads are filling vases throughout the house, and there it all will stay until the 24th. The mantel is similarly bedecked (don't have a photo of that), and I've tucked Mardi Grad coins and "dollar bills" into picture frames here and there for a little extra "purposeful whimsy." Oh, and the dining room table is rocking a MAH-di GRAH centerpiece, too.

We're taking the grandparents (great-grandmother included) to Ridglea's jazz brunch this weekend, I've got some of my girls coming over on Fat Tuesday night and then we're thinking about venturing to Buttons for more jazz and some late-night crawfish done Ken Hicks style. This is one of the recipes I'm planning on making on Tuesday - it combines two of my all-time favorites, King Cake and bread pudding:

CHEF JOHN FOLSE'S KING ZULU BREAD PUDDING

4½ ounces Baker’s semi-sweet chocolate
4 cups king cake, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 whole eggs
3 egg yolks
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup milk
½ cup sugar

Preheat oven to 325ºF. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together eggs and egg yolks until well blended then set aside. In a large saucepan, combine whipping cream, milk and sugar. Bring mixture to a low simmer then add chocolate. Whisk mixture until chocolate is completely melted. Remove pot from heat and, stirring quickly, add whipped eggs to the cream mixture. Blend thoroughly to keep eggs from scrambling. In a 8" x 8" baking dish, place king cake cubes. Pour chocolate mixture over the cake. Using your fingertips, press cake gently allowing the cream mixture to be absorbed evenly. Cover dish with aluminum foil and allow to soak a minimum of 30 minutes prior to baking. Bake, covered, for approximately 1 hour. Remove foil and bake 20 additional minutes or until top is golden brown. This bread pudding is actually better if chilled in the refrigerator overnight, after baking, then cut into squares and heated in individual portions in the microwave. You may wish to create a chocolate sauce for topping the bread pudding by combining 8 ounces of melted chocolate and 3 ounces of heavy whipping cream. This may be done in a double boiler or microwave. Yield: 6-8 servings.

Happy New Year . . . A Tad Late

Okay, so it's February 18th . . . better late than never, right? Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned: it's been two months since my last post (although I did draft a Valentine's Day shout-out the other day, which I am publishing along with this one; see below).

We had a fabulous Christmas chez McGlinchey, broken arm notwithstanding. If your biggest complaint is that there are too many presents and too many celebrations (Christmas Eve with Parnell's family, Santa and "immediate family" presents at our house Christmas morning, and Christmas dinner with my folks), then you have nothing to complain about. Uncle Alex and Aunt Dahna won the prize for best gifts this year - Connor finally got his big robot (prior to Christmas '08, he'd been forced to make do with the small, non-programmable Robo Sapien and Robo Panda - however did he survive?), and Parker got, among other items, a carton of light-up Tonka vehicles that elicited a very enthusiastic, "I've been waiting for this gift MY ENTIRE LIFE." Our next door neighbors and good friends the Flynns also scored major points with a giant glow-in-the-dark "pinpression" toy (big enough to create a mask of your entire face; cool!), among other creative play toys. (Mom particularly appreciated the "I TRIPLE DOG-DARE YOU" bag, a la "A Christmas Story," in which the bags arrived.)

Parnell and I had as much fun giving gifts this year as receiving them. Always stumped for ideas for his brothers, we decided to send Zan and Patrick bungee jumping, and all of the males over the age of four (sorry, Parker!) received paintball park passes. (My sister-in-law and I plan on tagging along to take pictures and make fun of the crybabies.) I also particularly enjoyed giving Connor his Cub Scout "badge blanket" . . . until the iron-on job that I did on the badges decided not to hold, and they all started coming off. Whoops. Learning to use a sewing machine - it's on my bucket list.

Parnell got his cast off mid-January and is none the worse for wear. And I got my Mardi Gras tree (see the next entry) . . . .

Happy Hearts Day

We celebrated our first anniversary in NYC, and, while there, purchased a Brian Andreas
"Storypeople" print (from the gift shop at the Public Library, I think?) that summed up our relationship to that point. It reads: "I was waiting for such a long time, she said. I thought you forgot. It's hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone." We framed it and hung it by the front door of our apartment, and it occupies a similar place in our home today.

Fast forward twelve years . . . . Last year for Valentine's Day, Parnell bought me a new laptop. (Unromantic, you say? Did I mention that it was red? Did I also mention that I love it, love it, love it?) This year, we agreed to stick with electronics - a new VCR/DVD combo with burner, so all of the various kid VCR tapes that we are reluctant to part with can be burned to disc and stored in a binder, rather than taking up a drawer in our bedroom and one in Connor's. (If you've been married for a long time, and have kids, then you understand - reclaiming two large drawers' worth of space is a very big deal - quite liberating, and maybe even a little sexy?) We've been picking up other little things along the way (Parnell has to have his Valentine's chocolate - not the kind in a heart-shaped box, but a big gift bag filled with Hershey bars, Reese's cups, etc. - and he bought me a beautiful tulip arrangement, knowing that I don't like getting cut flowers as a gift; I'd rather have something living), but we agreed that grand sentimental gestures are no longer strictly necessary.

Then I stopped in Artful Hand after leaving the hair salon yesterday (same shopping center, and the salon was burning this really great candle that they got at AH), and right next to the candles was a Storypeople display. I ended up getting one for each of my "boys," and they are all totally sappy (and one had the indirect effect of making one of my boys feel like crud; see below):

For the husband: "Tied together by stuff too difficult to explain to someone new." (Note: This is not to be interpreted as, "I'm sticking with you because it would be too difficult to break in a replacement." Again, if you've been married awhile, with kids, you should get the message.)

For the 'tween son: "There has never been a day when I have not been proud of you, I said to my son, though some days I'm louder about other stuff so it's easy to miss that."

For the baby: "The first time his laughter unfurled its wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same."

The "proud" one made Parnell wince a bit, because it's kind of been World War III at our house for the last few days. After years of playing short order cook to our very picky oldest child (whose tendencies are beginning to rub off on the youngest ones), Dad drew the line in the sand, and the new rule is "everyone eats the same thing for dinner, no exceptions, and if you don't finish your dinner, no snacks will be offered." (This constitutes a revision of Dad's first, rather hastily - and angrily - conceived rule of "you WILL eat this cheeseburger macaroni, even if it's for breakfast tomorrow morning, or dinner tomorrow night, because I'm not letting you eat ANYTHING ELSE until you eat THIS, and we're NEVER bringing another snack in this house, EVER." After he calmed down, I persuaded him that the first draft of the rule was a bit Draconian, totally unworkable, and likely to get us in trouble with Child Protective Services.) The first night, Parker forced himself to throw up (and by "up," I do mean "up" - it got in his hair somehow?). The second night, Connor reluctantly consumed his small helping of chicken, vegetables and penne pasta in Alfredo sauce, and we all learned that (1) yellow bell peppers are better than red or orange ones and (2) he actually kind of likes zucchini - "scratch that, Mom - I just don't mind it as much as some of the others." (Hey, I'll work with what I can get.)

Meanwhile, Drama Boy threw himself on the floor, moaning, "Do you WANT me to kill myself? Because I WILL kill myself, on the count of 1 - 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 . . . 2 . . . um, 1. Because I really WILL kill myself. I'm not kidding about this."

So Connor finished, and - per a previously negotiated agreement - he and I headed out to Curly's for drive-through fro yo (Mom), a root beer float (Dad) and fruit punch slush (Connor). Dad stayed home with Parker, since Parker had not touched his food. As Connor and I approached the house (after a five-minute round trip - Curly's is blocks away), we saw Dad's car pulling out - he rolled down the window and announced, "We're going to Curly's - see you in a minute." Apparently, seeing big brother get a reward was all it took. Parker consumed his now-cold dinner in seconds flat (and, after the first bite, said "Oh - this is actually really good").

Long story short - we haven't won the food fight, but we're on the attack, and gaining positive ground.

WELCOME TO OUR (VIRTUAL) WORLD!

A slide show of the McGlincheys' year in pictures is in the right margin, and there are a number of other slide shows attached to various posts. (Holiday photos accompany the "Christmas in Cowtown" post - I didn't intend to blog between now and then, but Parnell's broken arm merited a mention!). If this is your first visit to the site, the slide shows link to Picasa Web albums. If you double click on a slide show, it will take you to Picasa, where you can view the slides full-sized and with captions by clicking the "Slideshow" tab. If you see a photo that you want to print, the Picasa site will permit you to download to a variety of print sources (Shutterfly, Walgreens, etc.).