gratitude-a-thon day 397: fried foods

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This place has been around forever.

Has there been any poetry written about fried food? An Ode to the Onion Ring? There should be. There really should be poetry and music and art made in honor of the fry-o-later.

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They have gluten free stuff now (except for the onion rings, which must require the real deal for their crispiness.

Last night I did it, but not over-did it at Woodman’s. If you don’t know this place, you’re not from Boston, because it is the Kim Kardashian of these parts, but with talent. It’s a no-frills oversized clam shack with a pick-your-own-lobster stand, and fried food galore. Being that I am not really a seafood person, you’d think this wouldn’t appeal to me, but oh, did I mention the fries and onion rings? Maybe not. I am sure I could eat those things until I cholesteroled myself into an early (but tastefully decorated) grave. And while I had a grilled chicken sandwich (which is really delish), I gobbled down my share of Peter’s fried scallops, which were as good as The Bite on the Vineyard, the Holy Grail of fried seafood. And I lingered over every perfectly done fry and crunchy onion ring. And while I usually have to be rolled out of this place, and treat everyone to non-stop belly achin’ about how full I am, I left pleasantly full and super satisfied last night (maybe it was because I didn’t get lobster, which I actually do like, although it is seafood, but didn’t feel like last night, thus avoiding all that butter).

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Pick your own lobster. I usually always have one, but yesterday, I wasn’t in the mood, and that probably made the difference in not feeling sick after I had my little fry-a-thon.

So, oh Gods of gratitude, we thank you for deep fryers everywhere. And particularly those in Essex, who take perfectly healthy food and turn it into heart stopping fare. It’s worth every sublime calorie.

gratitude-a-thon day 396: by any other name

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Vacation Riley with his beloved Tiger, who came with him to our house when he was only four months old.
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After the beach Vineyard Riley.
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Beachy keen Riley.

 

Things I call my dog:

Noodle (Absolutely no idea why.)

Nu (short for Noodle, which I still don’t why I call him to begin with.)

Boodle (a play on Noodle, which, well, you know.)

Boo Boo (This has been going on for a long while. Again, the origins of this name are unknown.)

Cuteness (this is obvious)

Lovey, Loviness (Because.)

Buddy. High in the ranking. Often when walking. BECAUSE HE IS.)

Malou (Good GOD, this comes from I don’t know where, but it is possible I am mentally ill.)

Rue (Also another very frequent moniker. No rhyme. No reason.)

Mr. Adorable (Self-explanatory.)

Mr. Poo poo (Also self explanatory.)

NEVER LATE FOR DINNER.

God, I love my dog.

 

gratitude-a-thon day 395: small bites friday

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It’s a no kids weekend. Hoo-fucking-ray!

If the food doesn’t kill you, the carbon monoxide will.

And speaking of pizza, we’re getting #5 in Brookline (where the Fireplace is now–cool, right?

Great dinner last night. In my own backyard! Thanks Joc and Paul (and Brian).

A vacation she’ll never forget. #whydidn’ttyoujustgocamping.

Brookliners: still looking for an awesome pre-school? Highly recommend The Inner Spark. Almost makes me want another kid (almost, like I could physically do that).

Homeland is back. But will it be the same without Brody?

Brad and Angelina got married. And the media didn’t know. Hahaha paparazzi everywhere.

gratitude-a-thon day 393: the emmy best and worst

Last night was the Emmy’s, and you know what that means. I was policing the red carpet from my couch. There were winners and ugh, there were losers. And I’m not talking about who got statues.

The worst looks, drum roll please:

1. I love her like I love cheese. She’s brilliant and funny, and snarky and as uninhibited as three year old child. But Lena Dunham, with a school girl shirt on top and a Carmen Miranda skirt on the bottom was a piñata someone should have smacked right off that carpet. Look at this picture, even she looks like she hates it.
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2. Michele Dockery has some of the most gorgeous clothes as Mary on Downton Abbey, but last night she looked like the flag of ugly. I kept thinking she was at the starting gate of a drag race. “And they’re off.” She woulda been smart to have taken it OFF before she left the house.

 

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3. Julie Bowen, with the stick thin figure should be able to rock absolutely anything, but there’s no accounting for taste people, and this woman just doesn’t have it. What’s with the neck thing? Was she trying out for the Chippendales? Ugh.

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4. Catherine Heigl left Grey’s Anatomy because she didn’t think she was being paid enough, and would go on to do bigger and better things. People have hated her ever since. And now, there’s one more reason to hate her. She has bad taste. Prom dress, circa 19ugly.

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5.  Oh Blossom. You took your grandmother’s tablecloth and had a crafty moment with it, dyeing it the worst possible shade of blue and then sewing it into a dress and decided to wear it to the Emmy’s. No. Just no.

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And the best was really good. Here it is:

1.Like I don’t already love her enough, now she’s gone and looked pretty much perfect at the Emmy’s. It’s all right, the beachy hair, the perfectly simple white sheath. Kristen Wiig is funny, but ain’t nothing funny about this look. A+.

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2. Lizzy Caplan is one of the Masters of Sex, AND the red carpet. Can you say, “perfect?”

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3. Turns out Crazy Eyes has crazy good taste. Red is the new Orange.

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4. She’s like one of the boys with her ability to be super dirty in her comedy. She never fails to crack me up. And last night she joined the fashionably attired. A nice surprise, Sarah Silverman.

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5. She’s getting panned for this dress, but I thought she looked amazing. Allison Janney had perfect hair, and a form fitting dress that KO’d women half her age. It fit so perfectly, no armpit vagina, even.

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6. OHMYGOD, when I do these lists, I have all these photos on my desktop and I get a little crazy, so thank you Jessi Haggerty for pointing out one of my favorites, who’s dress i liked so much, i totally forgot to include it, but completely MEANT TO. Cutie pie Sarah Hyland from Modern Family was totally modern and looking absolutely Phi Beta Kappa (she also looked a little like Beyonce if you ask me). That little sliver of toned tummy, the full skirt. That’s how you do it, Julie Bowen. For God’s sake, teach your mom, Hayley.

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gratitude-a-thon day 392: catching the last rays

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Beyond the fact that i love the beach, I sort of love all the colors of the beach goers, too.

It’s August 25. Some people are already back at school. Ever notice how school is like the grim reaper of summer, even though September is a kick ass weather month? Once that bell rings, it’s over.

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I was totally obsessed with how pretty these women looked. Plus, this is my kind of beach outfit, covered from head to toe!

Anyway, I took myself to Crane Beach yesterday for a leisurely day of walking and reading and just plain sitting and looking at the water, trying to grab the last bits of sunshine before what the Farmer’s Almanac says, will be a brutal winter. I found myself a somewhat secluded little spot of sand close to the water so I could hear the waves, which soothe me like a mom can almost always soothe a baby by picking that little bundle up. But then a rather large Indian family descended on the water from their spot further away from the shore, and the air filled with the sound of Hindi. At first I was annoyed by their noise, but then I closed my eyes and imagined I was in India. It was sort of cool. I’m good at fooling myself. Also there were three women in beautiful sari’s, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. I started snapping covert pictures of them from the back, but felt too intrusive to get up and frame my shot. Finally, I was so taken with the beauty of them against the water, I got up and showed them my photo and told them how totally stunning they looked. Two of them looked at me blankly and nodded to the third, who spoke english. They all laughed, quite obviously thinking me foolish. But hey, beauty is where you find it. It was a good day.

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Me and my phone, just watching the water go in and out.

gratitude-a-thon day 390: Boston, you’re my home

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Occasionally, I forget why I live here. And that I once loved it like an ant loves a picnic. Occasionally, when I am ensconced in my sleeping bag coat, and 19 layers of clothes, and boots that could stomp out a small Italian village, and I want to kill mother nature and all her kin, all the while craving carbs, I completely go blank about what makes Boston a slam dunk place to live.

Well, here’s a reminder. File that under Love That Dirty Water.

gratitude-a-thon day 370: small bites friday

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The Brookline Farmer’s Market has the best flowers. I buy two every week, and although I’m generally not a color person, I love the almost neon bouquets.

The weather for the past week was close to perfect, heck, I’m going to go with totally perfect.

I ate at Fairstead Kitchen last night for the first time. Oh, the beet salad. Ah, the chicken. Great service, plus a wonderful manager and bartender. Ten thumbs up.

Red carpet fashion alert: The emmy’s are on the 25th!

I was really sad about Jake leaving for college, until I saw how he left his room. NOW I’M JUST MAD. #iamamomnotamaid.

V Stiviano says Donald Sterling is gay, and that she was his “beard.” My condolences to the gay community.

Yes, parents are embarrassing. I ought to know.

No, really? cats in hats?  Watermelon hats? 

This sounds like a marriage made in heaven.

A good, comprehensive article on Ferguson.