Holy six-pack!

And, now - with thanks to my friend, Anne - the next big thing from "Britain's Got Talent."  Amazement at the fantastic physical feats aside, my favorite part is that they didn't use some Lady GaGa or Justin Bieber soundtrack for their routine.  Bravo!!

Humiliated? Not in our house, you don't.

The hubs, who has elected to do paperwork during our snow-in (thank God), summoned me to his office where he delivered the bad news, via our insurance company:  Our personal umbrella liability policy will no longer cover "humiliation" as a personal injury.  To repeat, humiliation is no longer a covered loss. (True story.) "Keep that in mind, dear," he said. Thank God no one sued us after I forced everyone to play "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" on New Year's Eve.

Snow day: Marital blessing or curse?!?

"It snowed!" I cried, looking out of my window this morning. "No commute for you!" My husband stared at the Weather Channel radar, an ominous look on his face.  "Not necessarily," he said.  After an entire weekend of hanging out with me "doing nothing" (meaning going to brunch, shopping, watching sports in front of the fire, and NOT working on some kitchen-related project), he's clearly anxious to fly the coop. How anxious? I don't know yet. But, if you don't hear from me in a couple days, send the cops. Sometimes, cabin fever doesn't end well....

Back in the saddle again, sort of.

After two months and a fair bit of negotiation (not to mention, soul-searching, on my part) my column returned to the newspaper today. It will appear bimonthly, providing me with the creative/therapeutic outlet I've enjoyed for five years, as well as a little freelance income.  It's all good.

"Most of us are somewhere in the middle."

Godspeed and prayers to Congresswoman Giffords on her long, uphill recovery from yet another violent tragedy in America. The centrist Democrat - and gun owner, by the way - sure seems to make a lot of sense in this MSNBC interview.  But, I guess that's the point, isn't it?  The reprehensible act that took place today was beyond senseless.  How does a 22-year-old get that screwed up and indoctrinated?

What's up with Oregon?

Yesterday, I had my last session with my magical massage therapist who is moving to Eugene, Oregon.  I told her my son is saving to move to Bend (OR) as soon as possible.  When I got home, all relaxed and wet-noodley, I discovered my daughter may be heading to Portland to try and find a job.  What's with everybody suddenly migrating to the Big O? Is Oregon the new black? And, do I need to go there, too?

Belly up to the bar. It's easier.

Sheesh. Upholstering bar stools is harder than we thought. But, the prototype looks pretty, doesn't it?  We've got to improve our corners on the next three but we're getting there. And the walnut is dreamy.

Touch and be touched

I'm touch-y, not to be confused with touchy or touched (although some close to me might vehemently disagree.)  I'm just one of those touch-y/feel-y gals.  I tend to paw people I like when I talk to them.  And I pet the people I love a LOT.  I'm a hugger, a hand-holder, a tummy-rubbing, put-my-feet-on-your-lap cozy-upper.  What can I say? I like bodily contact. This makes some people uncomfortable, I'm sure.  That's why I wish they'd read this piece about the health benefits of touching.  Did I mention I'm getting a massage tomorrow!?  It was a Christmas present from the family. You suppose that means they're sick of all my touching?

Bar stools and backsplash tile

The finishing touches on the kitchen are finally (almost) in place.  The tiles for the bar came in yesterday and they look great, reminding me of our trip to Santa Barbara two years ago.

The tiles prompted a trip to the fabric store (always a narcolepsy-inducing experience, for some reason) where I managed to stay awake long enough to find this fabric - at 40% off - to cover the bar stool seats:

I think they'll look great together.  Now, all I've got to do is find my staple gun, cut and cover, and we'll be sitting in style.

Jane Fonda: Still kickin' after all these years

    Ah, the first Monday of a new year -- a day rife with good intentions and positive energy.  I felt so well-intended and positive this morning, I not only hit the gym, but came home and gave my review copies of Jane Fonda's new fitness DVD's - "Jane Fonda Prime Time" - a test spin in the living room.
   My first impressions? Well, Jane looks damn good.  (She's 72, you know!) And while she's admitted to having considerable work done on her face and neck, her body is still slammin'.  I first worked out with Jane in the early 80's, via her record album, after my son was born. I still have my copy, believe it or not.

The moves in Jane's newest offering are ramped down for an older audience, but the routines will get your heart rate up, and provide a good workout for people who haven't exercised much lately.  My main complaint is the Muzak-esque soundtrack. While "Jane Fonda's Workout Record" of 1981 featured hits by The Jacksons, Boz Scaggs and REO Speedwagon, the 2010 DVD is like shaking your groove thing to elevator music. For that reason, I doubt I'll spend much time sweating with Jane this year, unless I decide to put that old record album on the turntable.

I feel just like a grown-up!

 It took 55 years, but I finally have a honest-to-goodness bar for entertaining.  The hubs/carpenter fashioned the piece from walnut salvaged from an old tree in our front yard and scrap copper sheeting, and installed it just in time for our annual NY's Eve dinner party.  While we haven't yet put in the hammered copper sink or Mexican tile back splash, it accomplished exactly what I wanted:

 

It kept my guests on the other side of the kitchen, out of my precious cooking space, unlike the old shoulder-to-shoulder days.

All in all, the evening was a success, my throbbing headache and mysterious blister on the tip of my tongue (huh?) notwithstanding. The girls even performed a little Martha and the Vandellas. This is the only photo I will reveal since, in the rest of them, I have my mouth open like some kind of codfish.

Even Lucy the party dog got into the act. 

Happy 2011, everyone.  I'm going back to bed.