that summer they went to neela's wedding...

in 2004, the baron, the husband, and their friend lalee were invited to a wedding in montana. the three went together - joined by dexter and the VERY NEWLY adopted tucker and harlan - and camped along the way.

the grand canyon: here, tucker is thinking it doesn't look so big.

here, the dogs are thinking they can take lalee and the baron into the canyon.

montana: resting on the shore of a lake, just after a two hour hike. harlan hated it, as you can see in his expression.

at glacier national park: the baron and lalee. the baron is thinking, 'is camping over now? because that would be really great.' harlan's thoughts are running along the same lines.

on extended break

on wednesday, the baron and the husband are taking a train to get to a plane to get to ireland.
they'll be gone for a good little while, and - just guessing - the baron won't be posting while she's gone.

fear not, reader, for in the meantime, the baron has decided to post a random assortment of photos. view and enjoy.

screen on the green, or, really? a movie on the lawn?

the other evening - an uncharacteristically cool and low-humidity one - the baron and the husband had small group of friends over to watch a movie. outside. projected onto an old, white bed sheet.

the baron, being rather more fond of indoor activities than outdoor ones, had reservations about the entire enterprise. however, in the end, all in attendance seemed to enjoy the night, and the baron was pleasantly surprised to find that:

-'back to the future' holds up pretty well
-citronella candles actually keep mosquitoes at bay
-everyone loves nerds and
-riesling is just fine to take the edge off

as it was a movie, the baron felt strongly that a concessions stand was in order (thanks to k for the popcorn)...


but harlan and dexter felt strongly that said concessions stand should be guarded...


while baron, ever the suspicious one, kept an eye out for the equipment.


the long view, to the bedsheet. the baron knows it seems a little hokey, reader, but trust her: it was actually quite fun! next up in the screen on the green queue? 'indiana jones and the raiders of the lost ark' - woot!

a new place to sew

the baron and the husband were recently given a set of china that once belonged to the husband's mother. it's lovely, and the baron is VERY GLAD to have it.

but.

the arrival of this china, though welcome, is problematic because:

the baron and the husband live in a teeny, tiny house. their dining room, miraculously, has room for a 4 ft. round dining room table, a credenza, sideboard, and an arty looking (though functionally useless) table (one the husband zeroed in on at restoration hardware a long time ago and HAD TO HAVE). the dining room has also, for the past almost-three years, housed the baron's sewing table; it's tucked unobtrusively into an corner near the radiator. this is a small table, 3ft x 2ft at most, and when the baron wants to sew, she just moves the table over one room, poaches a chair from the dining room table, and sets herself up in front of the television.

the sideboard currently acts as liquor cabinet, bar glassware holder, and wine caddy. the credenza currently acts as bookcase for the baron's cookbook collection, and houses assorted other items (dinner trays and woven baskets mostly). the arty table? it holds a coffee mug full of wine corks, a white ceramic pitcher, and a really beautiful sculpture of an octopus.

back to the china. there's no room for it. currently, it's stacked on top of the sideboard, gathering dust.

but.

the baron has devised a solution to this issue. she moved her sewing table into the sunroom, into a spot she is forcefully calling a 'sewing nook'. this frees up one corner of the dining room, making space for maybe a moderately-sized china hutch?

finding a china hutch to fit the specs of this particular dining room corner will certainly be a long process.

but, in the meantime, see the baron's new sewing nook!

things that are approximately the same size as baron

paperbackswap

the baron happened upon this website the other day and found it to be a VERY GOOD IDEA. look it over, reader, and see if you can't find something of interest there for yourself...

the long goodbye

reader, some of you know that the brother was recently here for a week's visit, having called the baron 6 days before his date of arrival to say, 'hey. i have a week off. can i come visit?' the baron and the husband were - of course! - delighted that the brother chose to spend his free week with them... he is, after all, a super easy house guest, requiring essentially no entertaining; more often than not, they'd find him in the sun room, deep into his book.

the baron became quite accustomed to having the brother there, seeing him at lunch and cooking for three at dinner. he is, as ever, good company, sober and silly and sentimental and spiritual all wrapped up into one really tall package. the only drawback to having him there came when he and the husband would jointly decide to rebuff the baron's requests. her personality, though forceful, is not enough to overcome the likes of this (their response to her request to take a picture of the two of them):

the husband: really?
the brother: come on, the baron, do we have to?
the husband: he's too tall. i'll have to stand on a stump...
the brother: hey, you know what we should do? we should do it like in 'lord of the rings', like gandalf and frodo!

the brother: i'll stand back here...
the husband: ok.

the brother: lemme see that picture.
the husband: that is great!
the brother: that's so good! it's exactly right!
(hearty laughs all around. the baron did not participate, but could be heard to mutter, 'stupid'.)


the week's visit passed too quickly, as all good things do, and the brother left last thursday. *sniff, sniff.

the sun will come out

today the baron is thinking of her second job - a college one - at a sandwich shop in her home town, conveniently located right across the street from her undergraduate institution. it was a super set-up for her: class in the morning, then over to the sandwich shop by noon to work four or 8 hours, then home. or, sandwich shop at 7am until noon, then over to class. (though, really, it was usually the first scenario; as the baron figured out quite quickly that the smell of onions had real staying power so she always aimed to work AFTER school.) and, by the way? home was a fast 7 minutes from campus AND work.

the baron spent over two years at this sandwich shop, having been shepherded in by her good friend xtina. it was a long two years: the job lost its lustre pretty quickly (having mostly to do with the owner and his special brand of douchebaggery, and NOT AT ALL having to do with the daily promise of free sandwiches, snapples, sodas, macaroni salad and cookies; also, yes, the baron gained weight while working there), but the baron and xtina did the best they could to keep themselves entertained.

earlier this week, the baron posted something about june gloom, and about how it's been raining in maryland for the past several weeks. this morning - for a change - it was actually quite sunny out. and. this made the baron VERY HAPPY.

so happy that, when she pulled back the bedroom draperies, her first thought was this scrap of lyric: "the sun will come out... pastrami!" sung, of course, to the tune of "the sun will come out tomorrow" from 'annie'.

in the name of entertainment, the baron and xtina used to sing this song at the sandwich shop; they would substitute the word 'pastrami' for 'tomorrow' and you know what, reader? the baron now thinks that their creative edits IMPROVED the song. and what else? they might actually have sung this song TO PASTRAMIS, either whole hunks of meat or sanwiches.

anyway.

happy friday, reader.

june gloom

reader, you might not know about june gloom (except for you three: carlos, laura and xtina), but it's a very real occurrence in california. in late spring and early summer, the days begin with heavy cloud coverage and maybe a little drizzle, and end with weak sunshine.

the husband, when he was just the boyfriend, wrote a heavily illustrated story for the baron wherein he referred to her as heliotropic. she laughed at his phrasing then, but in the years since (and especially lately, since her part of maryland has had rain and cloudy skies for the better part of 6 weeks) she's come to think it might be true. the cloudiness casts a grey dinge over everything, including the baron. she's lethargic, reader, and can't get out of it.

she can't even muster anything interesting to write for you. so, she's pawning you off on more established and talented writers at:

homeland security today (note that handsome devil on page 46)

the new york times

slate

salon

new bed

a couple of weeks ago, baron von dachshund was taken ill. the sole symptom of his illness was vomit, left in little piles all over the house as delightful surprises for his parents to discover. in some cases, the scene read thusly: it seemed that he had been sleeping, then awoke, then harnessed enough energy only to move his head slightly to the side to throw up. in the bed he was sleeping in. (one of the consequences of his one symptom? a bath.)

he did this - turn his head slightly and throw up in bed - twice, in two different beds. (this may concern you, reader, you may be thinking, 'oh no! the dogs' beds! where will they sleep?' but realize this: the baron and the husband, keepers of four dogs, own 8 dog beds. a little excessive, no?) one of the beds was a reduced-for-quick-sale after christmas bargain from two years ago; it was a small, red doughnut bed with a candy cane and a holly on it. the second besmirched bed was much more expensive and of much nicer quality. the first, the baron and the husband deemed disposable; the second, the baron rinsed in the laundry sink (to get the chunks off), then sent through the wash twice - once as it was, then once inside out, just to be safe.

the red doughnut bed had fit perfectly into a spot in the dining room (because EVERYONE has a dog bed in the DINING ROOM, don't they? it goes side board, dining room table, dog bed, right?), between a credenza and the closet, a spot that gets very, very warm in the winter (because one of the furnaces main pipes runs through that part of the wall, parallel with the closet). conversely, because the dining room receives no direct sunlight during the day, it tends to be among the coolest rooms in the house. in short, from the dogs' perspective, it's the perfect room for sleeping or chewing the random sock. and the spot near the closet is perfectly sized for either of the two black dogs.

because of this, the baron felt compelled to make a new dog bed.

conveniently, she had recently replaced the mattress pad for her bed (it was not deep enough for the mattress).

so.

the baron folded the mattress pad up into a square that fit snugly between the closet and the credenza, the sewed it closed. then, she used heavy duty canvas to make the cover. she's quite pleased with her project: the dogs' have a new bed, she didn't have to discard the old mattress pad, and she was able to use fabric she already owned. everyone wins!

below, see baron on the new bed.

today

last week, the husband went to las vegas for a conference and brought back a cold. and gave it to his wife.

today, the baron is not feeling very well.

lat night, the baron thought that andrew bird and andrew w.k. were the same person. last night, the baron thought that andrew w.k. and russell brand were the same person. last night, the baron thought that andrew bird and russell brand were, essentially, interchangeable.

today, the baron knows that russell brand is english, and was in this movie.

today, the baron knows that andrew bird is american, and is a most excellent whistler.

today, the baron remains unsure of andrew w.k.

last weekend, the baron was marvelling at how high her potato plants have grown.

today, the baron is lamenting the HARD, HEAVY, ANGRY rain that tumbled those potato plants right over.

last week, the baron was thinking that june was just busy enough, what with professional and personal committments.

today, the baron is thinking that she had better clean the house, since the brother will be here on thursday.

right now, the baron is wishing that chamomile tea was a little gentler on her stomach.

she is thinking, keep it down. keep it down.

today promises to be a super GREAT day.

from the yard in may

reader, you may remember - from about this time last year - that the baron and the husband are big BIG fans of working and playing in the garden. in previous years, they pulled out vegetable garden seeds and flats, to start seedlings inside well before the last frost date. this year, however, they were late seemed to make a tacit agreement NOT to do things that way. instead, around the last week of april, after the husband and built three very sturdy vegetable boxes, they direct sowed their vegetable seeds into the soil. below, the cucumber is making its way - so slowly - toward a chicken wire support structure.


besides the cucumber (of which they planted two varieties), the baron and the husband also planted: tomatoes (garden peach, cherry, black krim, pineapple, and mr. stripey (reader, how could the baron pass up a tomato called MR. STRIPEY!?!)); artichokes; asparagus; beans; watermelon; brussels sprouts; okra; two varieties of lettuce; mustard greens; and edamame. if everything goes to plan (though, really, how often does that happen?), the baron and the husband will be rich will the fruits (and vegetables) of their labors.

the baron's favorite type of plants are the ones that do something for her; her feeling is that - after putting time and work and water into something - there should be some kind of reward. in this way, the vegetable garden suits her well.

however.

there are some things in her yard that are even better. they are the fruit bearing plants that REQUIRE ALMOST NO WORK on the part of the baron.

for instance:

these blueberries - the baron has 6 plants of three different varieties - require nothing from her but mulch in the fall and water in the spring. and you know what, reader? if it rains, she doesn't even bother to water them.



also, here is a three year old blackberry bush, limbs heavy with fruit. and, it requires nothing of her. so far, the squirrels have not yet discovered it...


the dwarf peach tree, also very low maintenance. this year, the third that the tree has been in the ground, the baron and the husband decided to protect is from the yard's wildlife with netting. so far, no peaches have been ceded to squirrels.


a strawberry plant, in a strawberry pot, that miraculously survived winter and came back this spring. so far, it seems to require nothing but water and has so far yielded 3 tiny red berries... and below, it looks like 3 more will soon be ready for harvest!

no one wields a pair of garden clippers like the husband.

china from japan

reader, a few of you (the facebook ones) may know that the husband spent some time in japan when he was very, very young. while there, the husband's mother purchased this set of china, selected because it nicely matched the furniture in their on-base home.

since then, the husband's family has moved many times, and his siblings? they've moved even more. the husband's mother, an equitable soul if ever there was one, saved these dishes, making a mental note of this one more thing to be distributed to her children (of which there are 6, did the baron mention?). one of the husband's siblings received the family silverware, a sister received yet another set of china... and on and on.


it just so happens, it luckily happens, that the baron loves these dishes. they're pretty and a little '70s cheesy (which the baron is choosing to recognize as whimsy).


the set was originally service for 12 ('FOR 12!!' said the baron, before realizing that - with 8 proper family members - 12 settings were needed for company) and - sadly - not all have made it. what remains are 9 dinner plates, 11 saucers for 8 coffee cups (above), a footed gravy boat, a swerving dish (below), two serving platters (a larger and a smaller one), 10 soup bowls, and 9 bread and butter plates (the baron felt very fancy, counting her new bread and butter plates), a creamer, and a sugar bowl (first photo). on the whole, the set is in remarkably good shape - having survived the trip from japan to all over america, and the hands of 6 children to boot.

when they were first married, and their friends and family came to celebrate, the baron and the husband remained adamantly unregistered and requested no gifts. they might even have said, 'china? pshaw!!' but this? these dishes? the baron, usually hard-hearted and unsentimental, is actually quite touched to have a piece of the husband's youth brought, intact, into their lives. new traditions and all that.