Chez Emerson

Great weekend right? Weather here was lovely and windy. Couldn't have my umbrellas open on the deck. Grr and arg!  It's been windy all summer. I love a nice breeze, but sheesh!

Pup worked like a wild-man all weekend on the hot tub patio. It's looking so lovely! He feels badly that it's taking so long, but I said to him, "Babe, you're a CPA, you do not lay brick for a living." He's rockin' the blockin' IMHO.

I worked on the front steps. My personal hell I like to call them. First of all, they had CARPET on them. Lots of peeps in my neighborhood like to CARPET their steps.

In the name of all that is holy why? WHY WHY WHY??

First we peeled it off, then we goobered on this DANGEROUS shit to get the glue gone. So pleasant! Then Pup cut off these things that were poking out of the cement. The old railing was hooked onto them. I'm really hoping having a railing isn't code or something. Everyone else has one. Ooops! Too bad! I don't want one right now.

Over the weekend I sanded off the crispy stuff on the steps and painted them so they look like this:

Holy crapinoli they are fugly. FUGLY! I beelined it over to my home-away-from-home, The Home Depot, and bought new paint. After looking online for a million hours for ideas, I'm idea-free. This front facade is killing me. The house is brown, the shutters are green. What to do???

I was thinking black front steps, but I chickened out and bought a dark, forest green. We'll see how that turns out. {sigh} Really, could this look any worse? And yes, I'm STILL trying to clear out that garden on the right. That sucker is bigger than it looks. Well, not really, but it sure has a shit-ton of ROCK in it. People! No rock in gardens! No carpet on steps! Obey me!

Ha!

My little garden by the hot tub is mostly in ruins thanks to George the ball-obsessed soon-to-be-dead dog. Love you George.

When Pup and I are IN the hot tub, George shows us his ball by sticking his enormous noggin over the edge of the pool, then tosses his goobery ball into the water. If we ignore him he roots around the pool, looking for ways to annoy us. He has crushed my zukes in this fashion. Grr and arg!

But those tomatoes are rockin'! Millions more are coming. The garden will do better next year when there isn't a major project going on by it and I'll have sewn George's lips together by then so there will be no ball-obsessing. Believe me?

Sorry so cranky George! You'll get used to drinking out of a straw.

 

Bettie Page

 

 I have an obsession with Bettie Page.

It started, maybe, 10 years ago or so for me. I'm not real certain where I first heard of her, although I think all of us have "heard" of her whether we know it or not. She has influenced all of us that much. Maybe not directly, but in ways you are not aware of.

She was adorable. The definition of naughty and nice. Schoolgirl charm, open fresh face, killer body, spankings given with a huge smile. Seriously photogenic. It's hard to find a bad picture of her.

I've read many articles about her and she didn't have a great childhood. Allegations that her father abused her, her parents divorcing, and she and a sister living in an orphanage for a time.

She graduated from college and worked as a secretary. Started modeling after being approached by a photographer.

She has said that her relationship with the camera was simple. She always imagined that it was her boyfriend and she was posing for him.

I love this little video of Bettie putting on stockings. Talk about shoes that are not meant to walk in!









She made wearing stockings and heels look like everyone should do it. Simple and sexy.

She modeled for only seven years. She has said that she quit at that time because she felt she was getting too old. I think she was 34.

Women should always have a dash of Bettie Page in their closet. Just a little vixen in the mixin'.

I love her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All images stolen from a book I read daily - The Internet

Hot Men Friday

Pup informed me that "Hot Men Friday" is grammatically incorrect.

He has also started saying things like, "You should blog about this, _____." or "You should blog about that, _____."

Insert my inscrutable face.

^..^

He feels like a supastah when he's in the blog!

Be certain he will be in the blog, but he will not drive content. Ha and love you, mean it! {kiss kiss kiss}

But here are two men anyway, just because I do love my Pup.

So . . . you are this hot AND design brilliant shoes?

I want to be his muse. Think that could work out? ;)

Yep . . . gimme me some shoes.

 

Sidebar #1 - how scary does Donatella Versace look? {shudder!}

Dear Brian Atwood, please send me the nude patents. Signed - Not Worthy.

Where would I wear these? Just you let me figure that out. I'll find somewhere!

Sidebar #2 - I once was passed while walking on a city river bridge by a gorgeous, young woman wearing heels and RUNNING. Yes, running. I immediately had shoe shame as I skittered along with my after-work-walking-to-my-car-athletics.

Marc Jacobs

Love this - one of the scents I wear

Dear MJ - please send this bag - it will go perfectly with the nude patents. Signed - Not Worthy

Remodel Post - Part Two

While searching for and finding all these pictures (yes, my photo archive is as chaotic as my mind) the contrast between Pup's house before I moved in and after I moved in is startling.

He was very noncluttery. I moved in and the house exploded! The man had NOTHING in his basement. You should see it now. I have serious crap. And I have edited hugely in the past few years. It's a tad scary.

Love you baby! How do you stand it?

Enough guilt. Let's start with this phone-photo I took of our insane cat the other day when I was making a roast in Pup's Ron “Ronco” Popeil's Rotisserie. Pup loves this thing. And it works great I have to say. The kitchen stays cool while it's spinning away.

It made me laugh and laugh that Calvin was so fascinated and assuming that I was making HIM some supper. Ha!

Moving on . . .

kitchen before

kitchen during

kitchen after

 

We LOVE our kitchen. Not the appliances we picked out (LG - you suck and you know it.), but everything else about it.

I am ripping my hair out at the photos I am taking. My little, cheap, Canon was so much better than this Olympus pile.

And - the tangle of cords under the cabinets is now taken care of. Love you baby - again.

Remodel Post - Part One

I moved into Pup's house in November of 2008 after a whirlwind of a remodel.

We both owned houses and had thought that we'd sell them and buy a new house and we could start our new life together.

But the market fell to crap and after a brief foray into becoming landlords (that was scary scary scary) we decided to rent my house to my daughter and her husband and I'd move into Pup's house, but we'd have to do some remodeling.

We did it so fast it made our heads spin. We wanted to get it done before the Minnesota winter hit with a vengeance.

We decided to do the office (we had to squeeze me in there), the bathroom, the kitchen, and enclose the loft for sound.

loft before

loft after

 Not that much was really done in the loft. It probably will change substantially in the next year or so when we do the man-den and, finally, a deck off the loft. I may do a little something up there. You know how it is!

Pup's recliner - or part of them

Don't let him fool you - these are in our bedroom (loft) and he can visit them any time he wants. He does like to sit there and supervise any chores that are going on in the bedroom. He's bossy that way. Ha! Pay no attention to the cat box. There is a long, painful story about that. I will not share. 

loft enclosure

 You would not believe how I had to fight with the contractor to put in the windows and the glass door. He thought they wouldn't give us any privacy. Light comes in from the loft to the living space below. And we can open the windows for airflow. I love how it turned out!

view from loft

nook at top of stairs

Photo disclaimer
Major trouble with crappy camera

Captain Obvious

© O'Neil

 A little while ago my girls taught me a game. I believe they called it Captain Obvious.

You play it in the car. You are driving down the street. You see someone walking/driving/biking/running.

You holler something obvious at them. For instance, when they were teaching me the game we spotted a woman walking. I stuck my head out of the window and hollered, "You are carrying a yellow handbag!" Which, of course, she was.

You supposed to say things like:

You are a man!
You are walking!
Your top is white!

I cannot stop thinking about this game. I have to stop myself every day from playing it. I stop myself because, well, because I'm a spineless fraud? I'm a gutless wonder? Harsh? Maybe?

I drive a Jeep Wrangler (Ruby!) with no top in the summer, so I'm guessing that the two descriptors above are more apt than even I knew since they flew out of my fingers without my thinking about it. I'm just hanging out there for all to see in that damn car. No way to hide in any dim interior.

Plus, the things that spring into my mind when I want to play Captain Obvious while out and about aren't within the rules of the road so to speak (really?? so to speak???)

I want to holler things like:

Dude, you have on colorful underwear!
Are you crossing the street against the light?
You woke up and decided to put on that hat?

. . . and this one because it's summer in Minnesota

Is every damn road around here under construction???

I think I don't get the game. Or I get it and am ignoring the rules. Or I'm a bitch that needs to simmer down a step.

:)

So, I keep my mouth shut. I'm saving it for really important stuff like:

Woman! Love your shoes!

Hot Men Friday

I developed a crush on this guy waaaaaay back in the early 90s when he was on the show Home Front. Then in the late 90s he was in the show Early Edition, which I confess to only catching in the middle of the night from time to time.

I know he's now on the show Friday Night Lights and I did watch it the first season, but haven't caught it since. Apparently I'm all about Bravo these days. Is that your judging face? ^..^

There was just something about his homegrown face that appealed to me. He looks like the cute coach that makes going to all your kid's games (whatever that game may be) a bit more fun. Oh come on! You know those games can get a little long and snore-inducing and looking at a handsome and fit coach can make the time pleasant. Just sayin'.

Why he popped into my head is a mystery as most things that pop into my head are.

It's Friday! Let's shake and bake! Let's get on the team to live the dream! Let's, let's - oh dang! I forget the last one! Heh!

Did I Wake You?

It's early, I've been up for a while already and it's still early. The insomnia has kicked into overdrive the past few weeks. It leaves me headachy, fuzzy, and even more forgetful. Poopy shitty!

I secretly love the house when it's this early though. I love padding around with no lights on, although with the electronic equipment Pup has all over you'd never need a light. LED spots dot the living room and the office is nearly lit up like Target Field on game night.

But being up this early is weirdly comforting. The neighborhood is quiet, mostly it's dark out there, no one driving on the street, no kids rollicking, no adults cheesing it up in their front yards.

George (dog) is snoring away on the office floor, Calvin (cat) is stalking something out in the living room (I'm scared to find out what it is), and Pup is snoring away up in the loft.

I'm awake. Surprise!

I can't blame our neighbors this time either.

We have neighbors whose backyard butts up against our backyard. Pup put up a big privacy fence when George and I moved in so George could run around back there and I could let him out of the door in the morning without having to watch him like the lazy bitch I am. :)

Our backyard neighbors, while seemingly very very nice, have two lights on the back of their house that are bright enough to weed your garden to. In my yard I mean. I can see every blade of grass on my lawn when that light is on. It lights up the back of our house as well. Our bed is up against that side of the house in the loft and when they throw the switch for those lights our bedroom is lit up as well. Wakes me every time. Pup sleeps awesomely and it doesn't wake him - ever. I'm so envious!

A few weeks ago Pup and I went to a birthday party where I may have had a few shots along with my Margaritas.

When we got home our backyard looked like it was having a party without us. It was the neighbor's light.

I set my bag down, cupped my hands to my mouth, and sweetly said in my soft little voice, "Hey! Come on! How many planes do you think you'll be landing tonight?"

A few seconds later, BLINK, their lights go out. We stare at each other in amazement and then fall out laughing.

Quote

I love Alan Shore - should I be worried?

 

 

 I need a new woman to objectify.
~Alan Shore
Boston Legal

We Can't All Be Leaders

I stumbled on this a few weeks ago. It's fascinating!

When you find a great idea/person/concept jump on in!

On the other hand, just because people are jumping on a bandwagon is no reason to jump yourself.

Left and right. Black and white. Up and down.

Think for yourself and all that.

What do you guys think?

Hot Men Friday

Lots and lots of storms the past few days. 70 dew points and temps in the 90s. It's green as hell out there. Lush lush lush.

And my tomatoes are having a grand ol' time. Can't say much for the rest of my experimental garden. I harvested one pepper, but now one of those two pepper plants have died. No flowers please.

But I'm enjoying the tomatoes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched this movie last weekend.

I was not worldly wise at all when I was a young 'un. The darker music of that day scared me a bit and I mostly retreated to my safe Beatles. Who knew they were complicated? Hey, I had to convince my dad every day it was okay to listen to even them! He was certain they were bringing down civilization as we knew it. Seriously. Imagine Mad Men here for a minute and I'm Don Draper's little girl. Only my dad wasn't in advertising.

In that respect I was a late bloomer and didn't discover music for real until I was an older teen and into my 20s.

So, when these guys tumbled into my lap at a party I was obsessed for, well, ever since.

The voice was not like the light, girlie voices we were used to hearing. He sounded older, bad, scary. He performed crazy - no, not the purported willie-waving antics (never happened btw), but the way he fell about with no self-thought. Fueled with alcohol and drugs.

 

 

All Images Stolen from Google

And he sank deeper and deeper into that self-aware/selfish/unaware part of himself until there was nothing left. Way before he died.



This much is true: You can't burn out if you're not on fire.
~Jim Morrison

Distraction Attraction

I worked in corporate America for a long time and it amazed me every day when I would get a 'nudge' email asking if I had read my email. You may know the email. The one asking if you had read the email sent 30 minutes prior. Which meant there was something someone needed immediately regardless of what you might be working on in the moment. Those emails.

I'm a scatterbrain (I believe it's now called being ADHD). When I was a kid my dad was constantly saying that stuff would go in one ear and out the other.

Truth? I am easily distracted. I'm not saying that lightly. I'll stop in the middle of peeing to write something down I may need to buy/do/call/make later in the day. I keep a notepad in the car to write things down, which is not the smartest, while driving. In the middle of a sentence I'll stop to mention something else I want to talk about later. When I get a puzzled look from my long-suffering conversation-companion I usually say, "Wha? You aren't in my head with me? You can't hear the cacophony going on in there? It's raucous I tell you!"

I have a hard time settling down on a project. I have millions of thoughts of things I "think" need to be done before I can start. Could that possibly be procrastination? Ha!

I constantly organize my space to better facilitate productivity (nice, huh?). I make a list. I lose the list. I make another list. It's missing things from the previous list. I combine the lists. I lose the list again. Then, when I leave for an errand, I forget the list.

I shuffle papers, moving them from this pile to that pile. Then suddenly decide that a pile HAS to go. Then I notice my plants need watering. Then my shelves need dusting. Then I think how lovely it would look if I staged the shelves differently. Then I have to pee. Where I add to my list.

You see how it is? I mean, really, do you want to be in here with me? No wonder I have such a hard time with my homework from school.

By now an hour has gone by and no work has happened on my project. What's that all about?

So - to say that email is a distraction is like saying pasta with red sauce and homemade meatballs is 'good.'

Now that I no longer work in the corporate milieu I ignore my email from time to time. I don't mean to. I guess because I can I just do. I've been untied of that restraint. It is annoying to friends and family that have emailed just the same.

And, since I AM so distractible, I forget to get to it or forget to reply or forget to read it.

I'm working on it. As I'm working on everything else. Proving that, even at a certain age, I am still a work in progress. When that stops I'll know something bad is about to happen.

Phototastik

I found this picture of me on Pup's phone earlier this week.

I don't look through Pup's stuff - never, ever actually - but we were somewhere and my phone wasn't available and I wanted to take a photo and used his and found several photos he had taken over the past couple of months. He doesn't use his camera phone nearly as much as his last phone that would take pictures in his pants every time he sat down, but that's a story better left untold.

:)

I hate pictures of me. Maybe you do too? I always say I'm waaaaay cuter in person. Ha! Seriously, my daughters have even said the same. "Momma! Don't make that face when posing! Pose like this (imagine cute girl mugging for camera with cute face looking perfect and cute - then imagine the opposite - that's me) Momma! It's easy!

I just don't take a good photo!

But I liked this one for good reason.

It's a little moody and I'm a little moody and it's dark and I'm feeling dark.

Are you a good subject in photos? Does the camera love your cute face?

Hot Men Friday

Do you think he was just born this way?

 Friday? Really? Nice!

This guy has been on my mind. Not real sure why although I caught a few minutes of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof recently and was a little blown away by how damn good looking and how damn smokin' that man was.

That movie is worth a hunt-down if any of you guys have never seen it. Elizabeth Taylor is eye-hurtingly beautiful as well.

Maggie: Why can't you lose your good looks, Brick? Most drinkin' men lose theirs. Why can't you? I think you've even gotten better-lookin' since you went on the bottle. You were such a wonderful lover... You were so excitin' to be in love with. Mostly, I guess, 'cause you were... If I thought you'd never never make love to me again... why, I'd find me the longest, sharpest knife I could and I'd stick it straight into my heart. I'd do that. Oh, Brick, how long does this have to go on? This punishment? Haven't I served my term? Can't I apply for a pardon?

Brick: Lately, that finishin' school voice of yours sounds like you was runnin' upstairs to tell somebody the house is on fire.

Maggie: Is it any wonder? You know what I feel like? I feel all the time like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Brick: Then jump off the roof, Maggie, jump off it. Now cats jump off roofs and they land uninjured. Do it. Jump.

Maggie: Jump where? Into what?

Brick: Take a lover.

Maggie: I don't deserve that! I can't see any man but you. With my eyes closed, I just see you. Why can't you get ugly, Brick? Why can't you please get fat or ugly or somethin' so I can stand it?

Brick: You'll make out fine. Your kind always does.

Maggie: Oh, I'm more determined than you think. I'll win all right.

Brick: Win what? What is, uh, the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof?
   
Maggie: Just stayin' on it, I guess. As long as she can.