From Grandma I learn
that there is art everywhere
if only you know how to see it.
It's there in the mountian of fabric in the basement.
Ready to be cut and sewn and shaped into almost a million different things.
Depending on what you like.
It's on the side of the road in the Queen Anne's Lace,
what other's would call weed's, ready to be pressed and framed
and made into bookmarks and wall hangings.
It's on her back porch,
in the forest of potted tomato plants.
Tomatoes of every imaginable shape and color.
But this isn't just art you see..its art you
This isn't just art,
it's a miracle.
Art is in the okra growing straight up like spears into the sky,
it's in ball after ball of yarn in every possible color
if only you know how to combine them.
It's in the shape of fern leaves,
and the smell of bread.
It's there, everywhere, when you
I learned from her that there is art everywhere,
but never once did she say it.
She saw it and she taught me how to look.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Of the first year,
some told us of the terrors
of the woes
of how everyday would seem like a cold hard slap in the face
when the bills came
or the laundry piled up.
But we knew better.
We knew now was the time
to let the mundane seem so exciting to us
that everyday felt like the fourth of july.
We knew that now was our chance
to let the laundry pile
and to smile our secret smiles, the next morning.
We knew that today was the time
to spend snowy saturdays together
and marvel and rejoice when the sun finally came
and the ice from the lake melted week by week.
We knew today
we could walk down the street hand in hand
so that the old neighbors down the road
and remembered what it was to be like us.
Some still tell us of the terrible terrible days to come,
the way it will change and the ways we will change
But we know better.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Any of you that know me probably saw this picture and wondered "What is HE doing on her page?!" Well, not to worry (or rejoice, depending on where your own persuasions lie) my politics haven't changed. However, I feel I must give credit where credit is due. While I have yet to really agree with Obama on his political choices thus far, the man knows a good breakfast when he sees--or rather, tastes one.
Pamela's P&G Diner in Pittsburgh. He visited last year during his stay in Pittsburgh for the G20 meetings and loved it--per all the media. Rumor has it, he has since even had Pamela's cater for a Whitehouse event.
So what's so great about Pamela's? The crepe pancakes! Dave and I ate them for the first time (hopfeully of many) on the 4th at the recomendation of Dave's boss, and the president. We loved it! The centers have this great eggy texture and the edges are this crispy almondy, vanilla-ey, buttery, lacy looking border. With or without syrup they are fabulous...and don't ruin them by getting the centers filled like a traditional crepe. Eat 'em like a stack of pancakes and enjoy.
Yum, yum, and yummo! That's all I can really say about them.
P.S. Expect more eatING posts...I'm obsessed. I heart food! :)
Photo Credit Dunand/AFP/GETTY via Rolling Stone
Thursday, July 1, 2010
So, I'm finally posting. My first post of my first blog. Kind of exciting. Kind of intimidating. It took me a full month to finally post it, but here it is. I've never blogged before so I'm still figuring this out. So, if you're reading this, thanks for putting up with my first post. If you continue reading my posts, thank you for coming back and putting up with me as I write and learn, and for giving me a much needed outlet. Well, here it is--"Ing". A beginning. (I know, I know, SUPER cheesy...but more of that to come for sure...sorry.)