Tablemakers at Kendall Jackson Winery

On Saturday night, I had the pleasure of enjoying an evening full of incredible food and wine, in the company of some truly lovely people, at Kendall Jackson Winery. The dinner was a part of something new they're calling Tablemakers, which is based on the concept that dining should be thoughtful. It doesn't have to be perfect; it should instead be about good food and good drink and good people all coming together to share in the joy of a meal. Now that's a sentiment I can get behind. I'm all about the simple, unfussy meal. Delicious ingredients presented thoughtfully, not pretentiously. Food that feels good to eat, and meals that spark conversation. And boy, did Saturday's event deliver!

Farmer Tucker with some gorgeous produce
(and our gorgeous dining area behind him)

We began with wine and a stroll through the gardens - including the lovely sensory gardens, where we plucked herbs to smell and taste as we tasted our wines. Farmer Tucker told us about the foods grown on the property, really kickstarting my summer garden drive (we'd spent the morning tilling our soil, but haven't decided what to plant yet this year). I'm especially inspired to plant peas, after snacking on fresh pea shoots that we harvested ourselves! Dining in the very garden in which our meal was grown, harvested and prepared? As our hosts said, "It doesn't get more farm-to-table than this."

I was so in awe of our beautiful surroundings and so delighted to be sipping my wine that I neglected to photograph the first half hour or so. So...unfortunately...you won't see the trout caviar on oyster lettuce (holy crap I could eat this all day - OYSTER LETTUCE AND TROUT CAVIAR YOU GUYS) or pea shoot arancini or fennel "creamy cold soup whose name I've forgotten". Trust me, they were tasty.

Others in attendance were photographing like mad (which reminded me to bust out my camera), so check out the #kjexperience and #tablemakers hashtags on Twitter and Instagram and see for yourself! Luckily, our dinner menu included the wine pairings, so I can let you know what we drank as we ate :)

The gorgeous place settings. Major kudos to the design team!

First course: Seared scallop, estate carrot, fava beans, pea tendrils, celtuce, savory granola
First wine: Vintner's Reserve Pino Gris
First reaction: The scallop was perfect. Just, like, imagine the most perfect scallop on Earth. That's what it was. And the sauce was so delicious I mopped it up with the grape skin flour bread that was studded with olives. The wine was crisp and fresh and cool, a perfect counterpoint to the seared scallop.

Second course: Estate lamb loin, morel mushrooms, turnips, kale spring onion soubise
Second wine: Grand Reserve Merlot
Second reaction: Jesus. This lamb. Thank you for your sacrifice, tiny one, who was humanely raised about 200 feet from where we ate you. The lamb was perfectly cooked - and the morels were a special treat. The sauce, again, perfectly balanced. And I'm not usually a Merlot girl, but this Merlot was really great. Just sweet enough, just dry enough, and it went with the lamb like they were made for each other.

Third course: Baserri (Barinaga Ranch), Midnight Moon (Cypress Grove), Dry Jack (Vella Cheese Co)
Third wine: Grand Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon
Third reaction: The cheese was a nice complement to the richness of the lamb. I'm not sure what the compotes were (I'm guessing fig) but they were lovely, as were the nuts. Of course the cab was nicely balanced, and went with the cheeses. I mean, obviously. And yes, I started to eat my cheese before I took the picture. Oops.

Dessert course: Peas n' carrots, yogurt sorbet
Dessert wine: Vintner's Reserve Late Harvest Chardonnay
Dessert reaction: The sorbet was refreshing, but the peas n' carrots was the star of dessert. That moussey situation was just right, and I probably could've gobbled up a whole lot more of it if they'd put it in front of me. Really hit the spot. I wasn't a huge fan of the Chardonnay - a little sweet for me, but that's a dessert wine for you!

Bonus course: Assorted chocolates
Bonus wine: Something magical and I don't even know what it was but it was delicious and thank you Chef for pouring it for us it was absolutely stupendous.
Bonus reaction: Always stick around to chat with your hosts, friends. Delightful conversation about gin and Chicago and wine and gardening and why Northern California is the best. I mean, it is.

We left with a goody bag that included two bottles of wine, a corkscrew and a copy of A Man and His Mountain...and thanks to the generosity of Farmer Tucker, Will and I also left with a giant box of gorgeous produce. Now we just have to think of some amazing ways to use it! Any ideas? Hit me up in the comments!

I know it's been a hot minute since I made an appearance over here at KKS, but I was so inspired by this meal that I had to show it off. Work has been nuts for the last few months, immediately following the craziness of that wedding I planned, so the blog has taken a backseat to the priority of self-care and making some space in my life for just breathing and living. But Spring is here, which means you'll start seeing some garden photos soon, and hopefully some more blogging in general as well. Here's to Spring, and a renewed joie de vivre.



While I was granted complimentary media access to this event, my opinions and thoughts are all my own, and I was not otherwise compensated or required to write this post. Thanks to the Kendall-Jackson Team for a great evening!

YoCP > YoTP

Well, friends the YoCP is over (well, technically it was over when Jolie ended it early mid-way through the year, but I had kept going on it...mostly). Looking back over the year, I'm impressed with how many things I got done.

There was the shoe purge, and the wrapping paper impressiveness, and of course, the big closet. My car was cleaned (and ahem, could probably use a touch up) and the BBQ was scoured. I even threw in a bonus porch project just for kicks.

But I didn't finish everything. There are still two cards left unturned, plus a few of those silly celebration cards. I mean, yes, I had a drink and admired my work in December, but there's something that doesn't quite feel right about turning over those last few "you did it" cards until I've actually done it, ya know?

I've started assessing and paring down the kitchen and dining things (erm, last week, when I also purged the pantry). We did some of the guest room boxes. But there's still work to do. And thus, I begin thinking about what this year will hold, homemaker-wise.

There's no YoCP: Redux happening, but I still like the idea of putting my projects up on the board. It really helped me to visualize all the things I want to do and only worry about them when it was the assigned time. I like structure, and I like schedules. It's my blessing/curse.


I've been feeling overwhelmed lately - something that tends to happen towards the end of the year, with the holidays and wrapping up the year at work, somehow there never seems to be enough time. This is normal, I know. But I'm also prone to overcommitment and a need to fill every moment...and we just have a lot of stuff. No more. Time for change, New Year!

2015 is the Year of The Purge. It's time to make more room in my life. Less stuff, less commitments, less crazy. More space, more time, more sane.

I'll be making a fresh board for the year, perhaps even this weekend, but all of my projects are going to focus on getting rid of things, making more space. Not to fill with new things, but just to breathe a little easier, to see clearer. To practice letting things go. The practice of letting go of physical objects will (hopefully) seep into my psyche, making it easier to say no to plans in favor of a quiet night at home, or to feel less guilty saying no to pet projects. A girl can hope.

Did you tackle any big projects last year? What's on your list for this year? Have any resolutions/goals/intentions/plans?

Into the Words.

On January 2, 2015, I finally saw Into the Woods. If a movie comes out over Christmas, there's a good chance I won't see it for several weeks. Even when I'm practically peeing my pants to see the movie. Even if it's a movie based on my favorite musical. Even if I've read a crapton of things about it in anticipation, and am anxiously alternating between reading spoilers and covering my ears. Even then, a movie that comes out over Christmas will likely have to wait. Holiday travel, you don't do great things to my movie watching.

So. Anyway. I was excited and scared. And I finally saw the movie. And I have lots and lots and lots of feelings. Here they are, in order of how I freaked out, once I got over the nostalgic squeeing over a new interpretation of my favorite words and music. It should be obvious here, but this post contains massive spoilers. All spoilers, all the time. Do Not Read If You Do Not Know This Show And Do Not Want To Know. YE HAVE BEEN WARNED.

• [summary of text-argument with my friend Elon over the fact that they didn't show the ball and the inside of the Giant's house.] While it would have made for some spectacular cinematography, what happens at the ball is insignificant to the story of Into the Woods. The actual ball doesn't matter as much as Cinderella's reaction to it. (director) Rob Marshall doesn't need to establish her relationship with the prince or the fanciness of the ball - that's the point. We don't need to see them fall in love at first sight - the story takes into account the fact that we all know the story of Cinderella. Sondheim doesn't spoon feed it to us, because he knows we don't need that. Same with the Giant's house. We can imagine. We don't need to see it. I don't disagree that it would have been fun to see, it would have been "more cinematic", as Elon said. But is it integral to the story? Nope. Into the Woods is about what happens after. 
• I really missed "No More." It's one of my favorite numbers. Small, simple, but a truly lovely expression of disappointment and loss and growing up, sung between vanished father and abandoned son. I mean, it doesn't make a *ton* of sense without the Mysterious Man (and I appreciated the "No More" instrumental underscoring during the scene where the song should have occurred), but I think they still could have done it with the ghost dad situation. Don't know the song? Listen to it here.
• Speaking of...I don't know how they would have done the Narrator, but it's one of the reasons I encourage fans of the movie to watch the original (this just watch it just it's amazing). One of the great moments of the stage version is when the Narrator unwittingly ends up in the story, and how the characters deal with what happens after he's gone. I thought the movie did a decent job of portraying the "oh shit, now we're *really* alone" feeling, but it's just so. much. better. the other way.
• The princes were fantastic. Absolute perfection. "Agony" was a miracle of the cinema, one of the truest examples of why some stage numbers work better on screen. So, so, good. Just brilliantly executed. Chris Pine's prince was on point; I could watch him be the Prince forever. Why did they do away with the "Agony" reprise? It's so damn funny, and it just reinforces the "happy endings aren't just so" narrative in a way that having Rapunzel run away with her prince just doesn't. Both princes are cheating douchebags - not just Cinderella's! Which brings me to...
• Rapunzel not dying. Sigh. I don't know if this was a Tangled thing, and Disney didn't want to kill off one of their current princesses or something...but come on. The Witch's spiral into rage and madness is so much more powerful when it's triggered by the literal loss of her child. And Rapunzel's descent into insanity is such a great bit of character development, only further enhancing the irrevocable harm her mother has inflicted. Yes, it's hurtful and traumatic for her child to cast her off and run away - but for that to happen and for her to go crazy and then to die? Horrifying. Tragic. Final. That would drive the Witch to dramatic suicide, now that she truly has nothing left but her beauty - the beauty that couldn't salvage her relationship with her daughter, with whom there is now absolutely no chance of reconciliation. 
• Ok. So, I had read that Sondheim changed some of the lyrics in "On the Steps of the Palace" to make things more clear, to make it more present-moment or something. And many of the you's were changed to I's. But truly, this is one of the things I hated most. For example: "But then what if he knew who I am when I know that I'm not what he thinks that he wants? But then what if I am?" vs "But then when if he knew who you were when you know that you're not what he thinks that he wants? But then what if you are?" Not only is "am" a painful word to hear sung on a sustained note; the fact that she speaks in the third person throughout the song lends the number a sort of doublespeak. It creates tongue twisters and a sense of confusion. Haven't seen the original? Click here. Movie version here for comparison. I did enjoy the freeze-frame visuals in this number though...seeing it take place in present time, with the beauty of the sparkles frozen all around was ethereal and beautiful and a change I wholly support.
• Johnny Depp was an unnecessary hot mess. The candy in his jacket was overkill. His zoot suit and his growly whisper were more sexual and pedophiliac than necessary. He was one of the first actors announced for the production, and I get that they wanted a big-name draw, but I don't think they needed him. In the original, the wolf is creepy and just a tad gross-sexual, but mostly you just get the impression that he wants to eat Red Riding Hood. Because he's a wolf. Not because he's a pedophile. It's creepy because she's a child and he's an adult, but I always took the number to be about his sexualization of eating. He's getting turned on by the thought of his meal (both granny and girl), and the thing that creeps us out is that he's doing this seductive little dance number with a child. With Depp's interpretation, I thought he was trying to sleep with her. Which was just over the top. And the key change was gross. 
• And speaking of RRH and the Wolf, I could have done without that odd "being swallowed by the wolf" sequence. The first shadow puppet made me think of the beautifully-animated Harry Potter Tale of Three Brothers sequence, but then it turned into this weird Alice in Wonderland, vaginal, Magic Schoolbus atrocity. Very strange.
• I thought the tempo of "Your Fault" was too slow - maybe they wanted the audience to make the words out better? Might have been a combination of the tempo and the staging (which I thought was weird), but the number felt more like "we. are. singing. this. rhythmically." than "we are freaked out and this is frantic and passionate."
• The flashbacks at the beginning, during the "Witch's Rap" took away from the rhythm of the song in a way I didn't appreciate. I didn't think we needed the flashbacks to tell the story, and the pauses required to show the, interrupted some of the most comedic moments (especially the flow from "your father cried, and your mother died" to "and well that's another story, nevermind, anyway". It's such a great moment when it's timed right, and this just wasn't. 
• What the hell was with the "blue moon" thing? That threw me off.
• Meryl had big shoes to fill, but I thought her portrayal of the Witch was dynamic and powerful. I mean, it's Meryl. Duh. Really, Johnny Depp was the only one I didn't like out of the bunch. And I'm usually so fond of him! Alas.
• I loved the woods - the scenery was gorgeous. I love that they built a forest so massive that actors got lost on the soundstage. I love that they used real trees. I love how the forest changed as the movie changed. I loved how they filmed in a real castle, and a real dilapidated barn, and how beautifully they incorporated the scenery into the story. The woods was a character.

So there you go. My word vomit. I still have a lot of feelings and I could talk about Into the Woods for days (already have). It's an important piece of theatre, for many reasons, very well-articulated in this New Yorker piece. I love that Sondheim's Cinderella chooses to leave the ball for her abusive household, that she chooses to leave her slipper for the Prince to find, that she's torn between choices, and that she's able to acknowledge that her choice doesn't have to be her final one. But it's her choice. I love that the characters get their Happy Ever After - until they don't. This show is about parents and children and a community coming together, and loss and growing up, and reconciling our pasts with our futures, and the choices we make and how we deal with the lives we've chosen and the pain we haven't. It's an important story. And Emily Blunt was very eloquent about why we shouldn't try to protect our children from everything. Kids know things. Life isn't perfect. Happy endings aren't always. 

If you haven't seen this version, I highly recommend it. And here's a fun little interview with Meryl Streep, Stephen Sondheim, and Rob Marshall from the LA Times that you might enjoy.

What did you think of the movie? Let's talk about it. Now. Obsessively.

Happy New Year. Here's a Christmas Tree

I took some photos of of our house all decorated, and I wanted to share them, but I don't have much to say except that this holiday season came and went faster than I could hold onto it. It went by very quickly, as evidenced by my inability to write anything for the blog while it was happening, and my sheer exhaustion and disbelief when I look at the calendar. I have a feeling that 2015 will be nearly as insane as 2014, though hopefully with my new "learn to say no to things" attitude, I'll find some space for self care and reflection. And maybe a little casual reading, just for fun.

Anyway, here are some pretty pictures. I know it's January first, but we can hold on to our holidays a little longer, can't we?

The front of the house, all decked out for the season.
Can you spot the cats and the menorah?

Food, light, festive things.

I made this ornament last year at a Crafternoon.
It's so simple, but one of my favorites. 

Picked this one up in Rothenburg on our
honeymoon - classic old timey wooden cute.

Celebrating the last night of Chanukkah during
Christmas with my in-laws. Yes, they bought
a menorah so that we could do this whenever
the calendars align. Very sweet.

I hope your holidays, wherever and however you celebrate them, were merry and bright. Here's to a new year, more writing, more sharing, and also more resting. Share your holiday photos if you have them, and if you, too, aren't quite ready to move into the new.

A Twisted Holiday

Well, my last post was before Thanksgiving, and I'm barely getting this one in under the wire for 2014, but here it is. The Holidays are nearly over, and it's been a busy season. So busy, in fact, that I neglected to share these glorious photos from our holiday party earlier this month. A party that was, in part, sponsored by the good folks at TwistedShotz.

I met the TwistedShotz team at BlogHer this year, and when they reached out asking if I wanted some Shotz to sample at home, I figured they'd make a great addition to our annual Multidenominational Holiday Jamboree. And boy, did they.

On (a very festive) display...

Our intrepid first shooters - Cheshire and Erik

Will chooses a festive holiday location
for his first shot

Hockey team looks a little unsure...

...but those boys can handle their shotz

The verdict: TwistedShotz are delicious. At 20% alcohol, they're not boozy enough to really get you drunk, but enough of 'em will definitely give you a little buzz. We sampled Strawberry Sundae, Rattlesnake, Buttery Nipple, Sex On The Beach, Porn Star, Polar Bear, Whipped Chocolate, Ginger Snap, Root Beer Flirt, and Miami Vice...I stuck to the Whipped Chocolate (chocolate and cream) and the Polar Bear (a minty chocolatey concoction) - many of the others are Tequila-based and I'm just not a Tequila girl. I can say that those two are delicious though. And that it didn't take long for all 48 shots to be devoured. 

Interested in getting your own Shotz? Check out their website for retailers near you! 

Full Disclosure: TwistedShotz sent me a ton of these little guys to review, but did not otherwise compensate me for this point and did not persuade me to write a particular review. My thoughts and opinions are my own.

YoCP: Frame and Hang Art

Technically, this was a July YoCP project. Technically, I'm still working my way through some of August, September, and October. Technically, it is actually November. But technically, as of July, YoCP is on hiatus (according to an email from our fearless leader, Jolie Kerr), so I don't feel quite so badly about being behind.

But YoCP was a promise I made to myself, if not a commitment to the greater Clean Person Community. And I created these projects with a purpose, and I do plan on completing them. Even if it takes me all year. Which it might, because there are only 6 weeks left in the year. Holy shit, did I just say that? Is that true? Jesus.

Ok. Back on track, here. One of my projects was "Frame Art. Hang Art." We have quite a bit of artwork, both personal mementos and arty posters, and since we're likely not moving any time soon, I figured we might as well take them from "big pile in the guest room" to "things that actually hang on the walls". Turns out, it wasn't as simple as I thought it would be. Many of the pieces were oddly-sized, requiring custom mats and very specific frames. Framing delays meant it took longer to assess the stash, and busy schedules meant delays in actual hanging. But as of a few weeks ago, all of our art is framed and hung (ok, there's one poster that I framed that's due to be hung in the guest room, but I haven't quite figured out where I want it to go, so it's leaning up against the wall, but I'm just not going to count that one, ok?).

In the bedroom, I finally have the art wall I'd been envisioning pretty much since we moved in. There's a little room for more artwork if we have it, but overall, I really like it. It's a collection of pictures from trips we've taken, or of special or meaningful things to us (like the "Going to the mountains is going home" John Muir quote print I found totally randomly, and then just happened to find the perfect frame for when I wasn't looking). It's really lovely to wake up and go to bed looking at things that make us happy.

Have you completed any projects lately? Are you still YoCP'ing? What's the most complicated framing job you've ever done?

Front of House

Although it wasn't on my YoCP list, I've been meaning to tackle the front porch for a while. Over the last few years, it had gathered dust, grime, and assorted detritus, and with festive gourd season upon us, I figured now was as good a time as any to clean. Holiday decorating is one of my favorite for cleaning, after all. I meant to post this before Halloween, so just travel back in time with me a bit, when porches needed to be cleaned off to support jack-o-lanterns and ghosts.

 You see, the railing of our porch was once white. It was relatively white when we moved in three years ago. But the grime had gotten a little out of control.

I'm a bit embarrassed to share this picture, but I think it's important to share just how bad it was. Not only so you can see the progress (I promise, it gets better!), but hopefully to ease any shame you have at the state of your front porches.

It's ok.

We are none of us perfect.

We clean.

We move on.

It may be worth noting that the splotchiness is a result of several lanterns that usually reside on this railing - the grime gathered under them a bit, but mostly around them. Not sure about the clean white patch in the middle. It's a mystery.



I started this cleaning project with one goal: get rid of that black grime so that it looks pretty. I figured I'd tackle it with a little Dr. Bronner's and water, and all would be well. NOT SO, MY FRIENDS. NOT SO.

I scrubbed with Dr. Bronner's and a scrub brush, and a sponge, and all my (limited) upper body strength, to no avail. I busted out the 409. And the Comet. I scrubbed and I rinsed for about two hours.

Still, I was left with something that looked like this. Not a huge improvement - irritating, even, given the amount of time and effort I'd put into this should've-been-easy project.

And then I bought some Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. The heavy-duty kind, made for outdoor furniture.



They were not as strong as the advertisements made them out to be, or maybe my grime was just that bad. I worked my way through about seven erasers, which split and tore and turned irreversibly black as I convinced myself that this. would. work. Because it had to. I'd sunk too much time into this already, and dammit, I wanted to decorate for Halloween!

However, after about an hour of scrubbing and cursing, I was left with something that almost resembled cleanliness. It's more gray than white, really, and there are slivers of black grime that I just couldn't get out, embedded into the grooves of the wood. But overall, it's progress. And it was enough to make me consider the project a success.

I mean, look at those before-and-afters, eh? I later learned (upon bleaching a spot where a potentially-rabid-maybe squirrel had destroyed one of our pumpkins) that (oh yeah, duh) bleach is a *really* easy way to whiten things. Probably could've saved a lot of time by starting with bleach. Ah well.

I felt good enough to put the lanterns back out, and add some gourds (and a flying ghost) to the mix.

I later removed those hanging lanterns (which have been so destroyed by wind and rain that they were just a ragged mess), replacing them with a small metal hanging lantern (thanks, IKEA). I took the extra metal table and moved it to the yard, next to the BBQ, for extra "counter" space.

It's still a little dirty out there - it could use a good scrub, and would probably benefit from regular sweeping, but at the end of the day, it's a porch. A porch on a house we rent.

We do our best to keep it in good shape, but it will never be magazine-perfect, because we do not live in a magazine.

It's ok. We are none of us perfect.
We clean. We move on.

Unplugged

I've taken to giving myself little "unplug" challenges lately. It feels silly. They're small. It's things like, "Get to the end of the next block without checking your phone." "Don't check Twitter for an hour." "No email until you've gotten out of bed and brushed your teeth." I usually fail. Or if I succeed, it's very difficult.

In the past, I've made "disconnecting" a New Year's Resolution and a Goal and an Intention, and it's just really fucking hard. It's embarrassing how hard it is. It feels silly to even want to disconnect sometimes. Isn't this the future? Isn't there something magical about connecting to strangers and friends on the internet? Having the world at your fingertips?

I work in tech. I'm active on social media. I love the internet. I'm around technology, "connecting" (and yes, sometimes Actually Connecting) to people all the time. It's amazing how much of my day is spent staring at a glowing screen, my fingers micro-moving across whatever keyboard I'm on. Pushing the pain of what's probably some sort of RSI or carpal tunnel or worse out of my head to just scroll a little farther, read one more article, type one more reply. Ignoring the actual world in front of me so I can connect to the world that's far away.

This weekend, I'm challenging myself (again) to a No Internet Saturday Morning and Afternoon. (NISMAA?) I'd love to say No Internet Saturday, but I know that's just setting myself up for failure. Last weekend, I said No Internet Saturday, and I was on my phone before I even got out of bed. So this time, I'm claiming the morning and afternoon as an internet-free zone. I can catch up with the world in the evening. But the morning and afternoon will be spent without the phone, social networks, and email that clutter my mind and tighten my fingers. Less multitasking, zero open tabs to flip through.

But how will I fill my time? Well, I'll be getting a flu shot, gardening, and purging my closet. Taking things to Goodwill, doing laundry, and unpacking the Target purchases from last weekend. Decorating the house for Halloween. Baking. There's so much I could be doing, it's no wonder I don't get anything done while I'm so distracted by technology. I'm looking forward to some forced dedicated time away from the screens, to make some progress on projects and goals I've been meaning to get to, and to move my body and mind in a way that doesn't involve typing, staring, or scanning.

How about you? Have you ever done a "technology sabbath" or an "unplugged challenge"? Do you think I'll make to 8pm without the internet?

A Break

You may have noticed that I haven't posted anything in over a month. Or maybe you didn't, in which case, never mind, nothing happened, nothing to see here.

"Things have been busy" is always an excuse, and never a particularly good one, when it comes to holding myself accountable, I know. But you see, this last month was *especially* busy. I spent the last year and a half planning a hugely massive wedding (not mine, that was nearly three years ago), which took place about a week ago. We had a wonderful houseguest. I got promoted at work. And like I said, the wedding was a week ago. So the last month was a whirlwind of everything coming to a head all at once, and between that and my day job, and my side business, and, well, life...the blog took a little hiatus.

But I'm back, and I have a bunch of photos on my phone just waiting to be shared. Photos of harvests and house projects and pickles and weddings and #YoCP progress. Plus, it's just about that time of year for turning the front lawn into a haunted cemetery, and I've been clearing room inside in preparation for holiday decorating. The weather's turning colder (sort of; this is California, after all) and I'm feeling very nest-y and ready for holiday crafting. Now that I have time to document and share (not to mention time to actually enjoy the bits of spare time in my evenings), I'm excited to take on new things and share them here again.

In the meantime, please accept this slightly blurry, mid-September harvest photo, featuring three very gnarly white carrots. It was a very busy blog break, but I'm glad to be back in action. Talk to you soon :)

Three Weeks of Harvests

I don't have much to say about this garden update, but I felt like sharing some photos.

Two weeks ago:

Teensy thinned carrots, radishes, padrons, lemon cucumbers,
jalapenos, tomatoes, and lots and lots of beans.
(beans being pickled in the jar in the back)

I felt like taking a pretty, artsy-like shot.

One week ago:

Tomatoes, padrons, and a lemon cucumber.
The padrons are currently being pickled with the jalapenos
from the week before. They smell awesome.

Today:

Padrons, tomatoes, lemon cucumber, radishes, a funky
little carrot, and assorted beans.

The harvest doesn't vary much from week to week, but it's amazing to me how much we're picking - the sheer volume is the main reason I feel the need to document every time we harvest. Compared to our city-dwelling friends, we're not exactly doing "small space gardening" with our luxurious ~50 square feet, but compared to our home-owning-friends, we're squeezing a lot into a small space. It's crazy how much comes out of our little corner of the yard! 

How's your garden? Do you garden in the yard? On a balcony or fire escape? On your kitchen counter? Share photos and story in the comments!

Thinning

A few weeks ago, it was time for a little carrot thinning in the garden. This is our first time growing carrots, and the concept that you have to thin them out (and more than once!) was new to me. We thinned them at the beginning, but as they've grown, we've had to continue thinning to make room for the remaining ones to grow. Turns out, carrots need room to grow underground and if they're not thinned, they don't grow.

Before thinning: it's just a big bushy carrot top forest!

I forgot to take a picture afterwards, but it didn't actually look that different, despite removing nearly half the carrot tops. And since we were in the garden, we decided to do a little more harvesting.

Parsley, basil, assorted tomatoes, radishes,
padrons, assorted beans, and lemon cucumbers

Rainbow chard and red russian kale

Radishes and carrot tops

We tried to use the carrot tops for a pesto, but it turns out that they're a bit too fibrous...it was a straight-to-the-compost-pile concoction. Luckily, we'd made parsley and basil pesto first, and already had way more than we needed for our pesto pasta dinner. And some of the carrot tops had little teeny carrots attached - sometimes when you thin carrots, what comes out of the ground isn't really edible. But this stage of thinning produced some adorably tiny little guys!

Salad featuring the tiniest carrots known to man, as well as
radishes, lemon cucumbers, tomatoes and chard from our
garden. And yes, that's a glass of Westvleteren 12.

More garden updates to come!

ICYMI: Blogged at Disqus

In case you missed it, here's a link to my blog post on the Disqus blog about finding community at the BlogHer conference this year. Community is incredibly important to me, and working at Disqus is invigorating...working for a company that builds products to make better online communities and a better internet? Hell yeah. Working to make our company a great community of its own? Hell yeah. Connecting in real life (IRL) to communities I'm a part of online? Hell yeah.

<3

The Bloggiest

Well. BlogHer 2014. Ahem, I mean #blogher14. It has come and gone, and I'm still thinking about it. In fact, I have so many thoughts, and pretty much all of the feelings, that I'm having a really hard time writing about it. There were so many fucking fantastic women, all in one place, having conversations that were funny and irreverent and horrifying and heartbreaking and inspirational and well you can see why all the feels.

Because I'm still processing, and because I've already written one serious post (which is far more than I usually write), and one silly post, I guess this one is somewhere in between. So...here's Day 2 and 3 of BlogHer 2014, mostly in pictures. But with a little actual content at the end.

TwistedShotz. These are shots. Sorry, I mean shotz.

They are sugary sweet and three of them in quick succession will give you a nice little buzz.

Helen and I did the Yoplait Greek #tasteoff challenge, where you do a blind taste test of both Chobani and Yoplait Greek yogurt and see which you like better. I eat Chobani quite often at work (when we're out of Fage - so spoiled), and also I'm pretty sure I was solely responsible for Yoplait's success in the 90's, so it wasn't hard for me to tell the difference. I prefer a more sour Greek yogurt, so I chose the Cho. Helen preferred Yoplait, and also didn't know which was which, so I consider myself an extremely talented yogurt connoisseur. I wonder if there are awards for this.

Helen, educating me on the Kardashian game. It looks incredibly stupid, like it might actually kill your brain cells, and I cannot download it for fear of getting sucked in. Those Kardashians are good. They know what they're doing. They will rule us all.

We rocked out at the tiggly booth. I'm pretty sure that tiggly is one of those products that's made for kids but the parents secretly play with it once the kid goes to bed. Maybe if they're intoxicated, but also maybe sober.

Thanks to Bridgestone Tires for the Disqus-colored manicures!

Obligatory swag haul photo. This year, despite driving to the conference and therefore having nearly unlimited ability to Take All The Things, I tried really hard to only take things I would actually use.

Highlights include Monopoly, Trouble, Ziploc Gallon Size Freezer Bags, convertible coaster/trivets, a sturdy tote bag, a hell of a lot of Bona floor wipes, full size Pledge and Pledge for your floors, and a bunch of Efferdent (for Will's hockey mouthguard) and twenty four double size rolls of Angel Soft holyshit. (I know -- exciting!)

I had fun teaching Helen the "show up in the last 20 minutes of the expo and score big" game :)

Two hungry girls and their cheeseburghers at the closing night party.

Rocking out in the daylight to 80's-90s jams with DJ Run. As in Rev Run. As in Run DMC.

Yup.

I was going to say that the dance party really got wild once it got dark out, but this group of ladybloggers was going wild in the daylight too. It did feel less awkward after dark.

The Rev said such things as, "I swear to God I'm here to have fun!" and "I haven't smiled this much in a very long time." and "WHERE MY LADIES AT?!" (um, right here in front of you, Rev, maybe get those eyes checked out), which was pretty super fun. He was smiling a lot. I think he had a good time with us. Thanks, Rev.

We certainly had a good time.

Really sweet string lighting and a whole lot of dancing women. It was a nicely decorated party, and I can appreciate that.

Those burgers and fries taste so damn good late at night after a few beers. Jury's still out on Gogurt.

Oh, and then this happened:

WHAT.

On our way to brunch on Sunday, we passed the parking lot where a mere 10 hours before, we had been eating junk food and jumping up and down to songs we danced to in middle school. 

Quite a transformation.

Post-BlogHer brunch requires three drinks.

I'll be honest: after Chicago's somewhat lackluster performance, I wasn't entirely looking forward to this year's conference. Chicago felt too big, too empty. I was worried that the BlogHer conference had jumped the shark. Oh, how wrong I was. This year felt lovely. It was cozy and warm and full of energy. The 10x10 speakers were (for the most part) wonderfully articulate, inspirational and thoughtful (yeah, maybe don't watch this one at work). The Voices of the Year almost all made me cry (just found this recap of quotes featuring moi - fun!). The mainstage keynotes were fucking fantastic. The food was pretty good too. 

I met some rad ladies I'd only met on the internet before this weekend (hi, Ginger Warrior! whaddup, FireMom?). I hugged women I haven't seen since last year (oh hey there, Tabatha). I sat next to Elise Bauer at lunch. I decided that I really want to talk to Kara Swisher in person and make her be my mentor, and I still regret that I wasn't able to hug The Bloggess and thank her for that post about HR. I met some brand reps that were really cool, and who I hope remember me when I finally email them several weeks after the conference. I basically accosted BlogHer co-founder Jori Des Jardins for the second time in four years, to thank her for starting this thing (sorry, Jori). I basically lived in #BlogHer14 for three days. And I went to a party that I'm not allowed to talk about.

One drunk night I started typing this blog post. I wrote, "blogher is nothing if not a place to encourage yourself to put yourself out there." And I think that's what this whole BlogHer thing is all about, really. 

If we met in San Jose this year, thanks for taking the initiative to follow through on our "Oh, I'll check out your blog! Here's my card, too!" interaction. I really did like your dress, and I really do hope I'll see you on the internet (like when I finally get it together to go through the biz cards and visit all of your blogs). It was really fun to meet you. I mean it.

Why I Don't Write About Race

There were some really great conversations about race and privilege at BlogHer this weekend. It's not something I write about (or even talk about, frankly) very often, but these conversations have gotten me thinking. And as Feminista Jones reminded us, we should all speak up. We should all claim our experiences, and honestly? My privilege is one reason I don't talk about it. I don't need to talk about it. It doesn't affect me. Except that it does. It affects all of us. It affects us as a community, as a country, as human beings sharing one planet. And not speaking up because I feel like I don't have a worthy enough story myself is a really shitty reason to stay silent.

My experiences with "otherness" are not much to write home about. They are very white, in the most socioeconomic sense of the word. They are steeped in privilege, which is a word I'll just apologize now for overusing in this post. When I was in elementary school, I was not popular. I was made fun of for liking books, for listening to country music, for being Jewish-looking (not that I was in any way an *actual* minority, guys. I just hadn't grown into my nose, and my peers had, I guess). I ate lunch in the library, and yes, I felt like a big ole loser nerd much of the time, but eh...I had bigger concerns, like how many library books the librarian would let me check out at once or when I would be allowed to wear pointe shoes. In middle school, some girls threatened to steal my clothes in the bathroom once, but that was an anomaly - I don't think they even knew who I was aside from some random kid to torment. I grew up a theatre kid, which for many people is synonymous with otherness, but I actually had a wonderful group of friends and went to a high school where the theatre kids were more beloved than the athletes (or at least we felt that way), so no stories of being stuffed in a locker or bullied there. Sure, I grew up on "the other" side of Ventura Boulevard, not in Hidden Hills or Calabasas where most of my classmates lived...but I didn't live as far as where all the signs were in Spanish, either. I was right in the middle - sometimes uncomfortable, but squarely settled in my own assured privilege. Full of teen angst, but most definitely in a stereotypically privileged way.

The first time I was confronted with feelings of racial difference was in college, when I volunteered with Equal Opportunity Productions (EqOp) - a non-profit arts outreach program in Los Angeles. We visited schools whose arts programs had been taken away, mostly in East LA, and provided free classes and workshops in self-expression, storytelling and improv. We took a group of kids to a cabin in Big Bear for a week one summer (looking back, how the hell did we do that? A lot of parental trust.) to write and produce their own play. It was a transformative experience for many of these kids, who didn't really know how to put their many pre-teen angsty feelings into words. Who didn't feel comfortable expressing their feelings in public. Who hadn't had experiences that allowed them to be crazy, silly, creative kids with a voice. Who hadn't before been listened to and told that their voices mattered.

And for me, it was surprisingly eye-opening. Not because I'd never been exposed to poverty or class divisions, but because for the first time, I was deeply involved and working closely with a diverse group, first-hand, in a way where I had an active role in Making A Difference. And in my own 20-year-old-with-a-heart-full-of-passion way, it was there that I experienced otherness in a way I hadn't before. See, out of our group of 15 or so kids, there were two who were white and Jewish and lived comfortably above the poverty line. When the time came for the program's director to pair us "adults" with kids to mentor, naturally I was paired with the ones who looked like me. And I get it. It's important for kids to have mentors they can personally connect with, and especially for young minority kids to see strong, grown up minority mentors they can easily see as their future selves. And I fucking loved working with those kids. But I also resented our racially classified mentor/mentee relationships because it was less about pairing me with the white kids and more about not pairing me with the ones who were black or brown. In dividing ourselves based on the color of our skin, weren't we part of the problem? In telling these kids that they should learn from those who look just like them, weren't we closing ourselves off to diversity and shared experience?

I will never know what it's like to grow up as a young, black girl below the poverty line in East LA. That will never be my experience. And so I understand why an organization would pair that girl with a mentor who has been there and lived it. And I do believe that it's the right call. I hate (hate hate hate) stories that look like "white person comes in and saves the poor black kids". That's not the story I want to be a part of. But to be told, without further discussion, that "well, obviously" I would be paired with the brainy Jewish kids made me feel strange. I felt like I was being put into a box I didn't know was mine, told that my experiences were as one-dimensional as my looks. That I shouldn't worry about relating to the kids who didn't look like me, because someone more qualified was going to do that.

I have never experienced systemic prejudice. I have never been excluded from a place of privilege because of my race. My experiences as a Jewish woman growing up in the San Fernando Valley do not in any way qualify me to speak on behalf of minority groups who face real adversity, and I do not wish to be any sort of savior. I just want, in my own naive, sunshiney way, to relate to each other on a human level. And I want to feel like I am making some sort of impact, to do something, however small, to make a world where our humanity is all that matters.

There were a lot of talks this weekend about what it means to be an ally. How to support without appropriation. How to speak up, but not speak for. I don't have answers. I only have my experience, and my heart. And a lot of the time, my heart hurts so much for those I don't know how to help that I dissolve into a pool of helplessness and just freeze. I don't want to freeze anymore.

If you have a story you want to tell, please share. Please link to your blog in the comments. I won't use my friends as my teachers - the internet is out there, and there is no shortage of stories to tell about the systemic abuse that exists in this world. I cannot claim, and will not tell, your stories as if they were mine. But you can tell them. Please tell them.

Hello From BlogHer!

It's that time of year, friends. Time for thousands of bloggers (mostly ladybloggers) to convene in one place for some "IRL" community bonding. Yes, it's BlogHer season. This year, the conference is close to home, in San Jose, which means that for the first time ever, I drove to BlogHer. I'm going to take the lessons from BlogHers past and cut back on my swag intake...just because you have room for it doesn't mean you should take it! (As my therapist says, "just because you can doesn't mean you should" - amen, sister, I'll try to remember that one)

This time, I have the honor of sharing my BlogHer experience with my coworker Helen...this is her inaugural BlogHer experience, so it's exciting times indeed. If you met us tonight, we were giddy with freedom (hey, we left the office at 3:30pm! and aren't going in tomorrow!) and high on blogger energy. If this is your first time over here at Kim's Kitchen Sink, say hi in the comments! Nice to meet you.

Starting our evening off right with Eppa Sangria at the
Sundown Sangria Soiree.
The invitation said to wear yoga pants. So. Obviously.

It was very hot. There was an ice luge for the sangria.

Attempting to take a selfie for #selfiebration (ugh that word)

Helen attempts a selfie as well. It was hard
to get the picture just right. Involved a lot
of maneuvering.

Late night dinner at Johnny Rockets for nostalgia's sake.
Jukebox was broken. Womp womp.

Area Woman Reports Smiley Face Ketchup Still a Thing.

I didn't take many pictures in the expo hall because I was too busy exhaling (and tweeting) and making mental notes for tomorrow and Saturday (drool over fancy Samsung appliances? CHECK!). Also, I got my fingernails painted Disqus blue (thanks, Bridgestone Tires booth, for the mani and the massage!), so even though I'm not here reppin' Disqus (unless you're an engineer and you want a job, in which case, come find me), I'm still reppin' the blue.

Maybe I'll post every day throughout the conference, maybe I won't...Thursday night is always the calm before the storm. If you see me wandering around with my face in my phone, poke me and say hi!