Celebratory Gunshots, Too
As I set about planning the celebration of my children’s third natal day, I had a couple of ideas, none of which involved any place named “Zone,” renting animals that require a support staff or permits, or spending money.
Lucky for me that my kids love running around outdoors and their birthday falls just after Spring’s coming out party. So all I need is a park featuring a wide open field, some balls to kick and toss around, a sheet cake from
Rolling Pin, and we’re set.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going a little too low-end though. Even a slacker mom like me likes a little flash, a spark of cool for the kiddie party. “Kites!” I thought. “It’ll be excellent kite-flying weather! We’ll get some kites for the kids to supplement the ball-kicking fun! What could possibly go wrong with kites?”
What indeed. Labels: mad parenting skillz, Things that scare the crap out of us
Lazy People
Suck.
That's all.
Labels: Grumpiness, Short Rants
Just Because It's a Holiday—A Photo Journey, Part 3
We're feeling oh so loving here on the barge today, therefore, here's a very special photograph from the beach house to commemorate this occasion.
Yes, that is a lamp, with a base in the shape of a clown. A ceramic clown. Yes, it is incredibly shudder-inducing. In fact, I have chills as I write this.
What? You want to see a close up?
If you insist .... You sure? But it's Valentine's Day and I have to save something for a St. Paddy's surprise. ... Okay. Fine. But don't email me if something goes awry. Like for instance say this clown lamp comes to life, throws its power cord over the bumper of a passing car, hitches a ride over the Bay Bridge, finds your house, and electrocutes you. We're not responsible for that happening.
So Enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day.
Labels: Beach house photos, Things that scare the crap out of us
Return to Summer—Photo Journey, Part 2
If you've read the previous post, you'll know that a summery week was spent at the beach, in a vacation rental adorned with quite an assortment of decorating styles. Here, we'll discuss the one-dimensional/three-dimensional ratio to prints and paintings.
After spending some time in the house, one friend finally had an epiphany about the on-the-wall decor. It seems that whoever had hung the photos seemed to have a desire to link each one-dimensional image with a 3D representation. First example:
Notice that each print has a corresponding 3D ornament hanging directly above it. Big ol' mandolin has teeny mandolin, tilted printed fiddle has mini fiddle; my particular favority is the tilting of the 3D instrument, replicating the angle of the one dimension version (center).
Example No. 2:
Wall birds seem to peer out upon wooden carving of bird.
And, Example No. 3 is especially of note, because it shows two instances of this design strategy.
On the top, you have the windmill print/wooden windmill statue; on the bottom left you have the ducks-swimming-in-pond tray, while on the counter is the ducks-swimming-in-pond spoonrest. We'll admit it doesn't really fit the criteria, but its close enough, so we're counting it.
Surprisingly, these aren't the only occurrences of this style in the house, but you get the idea. I'm so glad that I didn't run into the 3D version
of the boy, though.
More later...
Labels: Beach house photos, summer
Remembering the Warmer Days—A Photo Journey, Part 1
Yep, it's wicked cold. As a result of the numbing temperatures in the D.C. area, it's time to finally reminisce about the times spent at the beach this summer, and the wacked out decorations that adorned the vacation rental.
To start, we have this creepy-ass painting from the bathroom. It's hard to explain how unsettling this portrait is, but let's just say that the boy has one of those gazes that follows you. In addition, this lovely is reflected in the mirror, so even when you have your back turned to him, he's there, awatchin'.
Now, let's discuss what he's doing with the ball of string there. The kittens are present, so you could assume that it's just something with which they play. However, it's the way the string is being held, almost as if the boy is about to strangle someone or something. Is he going for the defenseless kittens? They certainly look frightened enough. See:
The kitten on the left appears positively terrified. He knows what's going to happen to him; he just witnessed his sister kitten meet her maker.
This is just one of many disturbing beach house decorations. Check back soon for more. Until then, I'll be haunted by the boy and dreaming of the sunshine at the shore.
Labels: Beach house photos, summer
Drinking Your Oats, Seriously?
Now, we on the barge have posted about foul-sounding drinks
before, and we thought that the
Year of Rum was seriously taking off as a social movement (what with its notoriety gained through Wonkette). It's our intention to bring some sense of decorum and literal taste to all imbibers out there, because we do have some expertise in this area. We all went to college after all. And we do happy hour.
All we're asking for is for someone to listen to us. And we thought y'all were.
But, we guess not.
According to the linked
WaPost article, it seems that someone out there decided that oatmeal should now be a cocktail. Oatmeal. As in the food that is almost too boring for breakfast; as in the food that really didn't wake me up or prepare me for the day ahead at all; the taste that isn't revved up even with all the maple and brown sugar and bananas and peaches and cream. The I-feel-like-I'm-85-years-old mealy stuff in a bowl. And I can say this with some experience, since I've eaten it every day this week (it does it hit a spot when it's frigid outside).
Anyways, we're not objecting to the meal of oats as a food option, but it's just not festive. It's even a great thing for shower gel. It's fine for a facial scrub.
But when you look at the picture, does that seem like something that is going to excite you, help shake off the day? It's just rather a snooze, is all we're saying.
Labels: drinks that fail, Ewww
Spite, Now That You've Won the Super Bowl...
What are you going to do next? Cause the firing of a bratty former coworker, who left the company for a much higher paying position elsewhere?
Seriously y'all. Spite is the true winner of the football game yesterday. Let me explain. Y'see, a certain ex-flame just looooves da bears, so a win by the team would beget true happiness. As much as I hate to say it, the loss brings me such joy. Especially since the certain someone also trashed the poor Seahawks unfair loss in last year's game.
Cheers, Spite, I hope to drink again with you soon.
Barge Runs To Ground in Marco Island
The party barge missed a turn somewhere on the bayou, and wound up on a sandbar in Marco Island. Bailey-yo's travel curse seems to have followed us to Southwest Florida. One day in town, and we found a way to spur a major electrical fire that debilitated the hotel and disrupted ASAE's Great Ideas Conference.
Not a total loss, however:
1. Seamus, yo discovered that golf was never intended to be played sober and hereby pledges not to let it happen again.
2. Russdog discovered that ordinary foods come alive with a little imagination (see Lamb Stew Pub Review).
3. Bailey-yo and Britney-yo uncovered an alter ego for the Russdog (see his new blog, Pappy Opines, at pappyopines.blogspot.com).
Labels: food art, golf, travel curse
