pink and green

Have you ever looked at a color for so long that you have no idea what shade it is anymore?

I’m painting our bedroom purple and I’ve been looking at the test swatches for so many hours that I can no longer tell which one looks like it belongs in a toddler’s bedroom and which one would look better in Buckingham Palace. Therefore I have no idea which one looks right in our bedroom—the place that I had the brilliant idea to paint a bold and modern hue but that I now fear will come off looking like a kindergarten classroom.

I also have a pathological anxiety that my design-savvy pals will come over to scope out the new paint job, tell me “it’s nice….” and then change the subject to how delicious their chardonnay is just to be polite.

I need help. And I need to recalibrate the color wheel in my head. So I went to the garden.

Our dogwood is in full bloom and it couldn’t make me happier. This time of year is magical in our yard—the pinks and greens are just so damn pretty that I want to perform an interpretive dance about them.

But the neighbors would gawk.

And I would blush.

And hide indoors until July.

I’m going to shut up now and let you enjoy the flora.

Clearly I have issues in choosing which shot to show you guys. What, you don’t like looking at two photos that are almost identical except for a few tiny details that only the author of this blog probably notices?

Fine, then. No more flowers for you.

Just kidding.

I’ll always give you flowers because I love ya. And because I’m trying to bribe you into painting my bedroom for me.

-RDG

normalcy, or something like it

Because it’s monday, and because I am so worn out that I can’t even muster the energy to hunt for my slippers to warm my freezing feet, and because the coffee just won’t seem to make itself, today’s post is not about food. And I’m sorry. Sorting through hundreds of pictures, cropping them, making them look like they were taken in a kitchen whose light does not resemble a catacomb’s, and trying to describe to you how to make a pasta dish or braised short ribs just seems like an insurmountable task. So instead, because I love ya and because you’re the only person reading this, I thought I’d share a little about what’s going on in the RDG household.

If you’ve been around lately, you know that Husband went under the knife. He’s now on the mend and feeling fine. But the surgery and the week that followed left me a little off-kilter, a little exhausted, and a little overwhelmed. I couldn’t catch my breath even for a moment, and I wasn’t even the one who had just been cut open. As soon as I was beginning to regain my emotional balance toward the end of the week, a family situation arose that completely surprised me and left me feeling sucker-punched. I’m still reeling, not quite sure what to make of the whole thing. Let’s just say, without going into the gory details, that it has not been a quality week for RDG. I’m one sob-fest away from packing up this joint and moving to Bermuda. If I don’t post anything tomorrow, Husband, Lucy and I have legally changed our names and are hiding out east of Florida.

Okay, now onto the happy stuff. Several things are not crappy about life right now. Let’s make a list.

1. My daughter has decided that this is her most photogenic expression. I’m okay with it.

2. Braised short ribs. I dreamed about them last night. Literally.

This is one of the recipes I couldn’t bring myself to write about today. I’m a tease and I’m sorry. But I’ll have it ready later this week, I swear.

3. I planted a gazillion herbs. Lemon thyme, dill, lavender, chives—anything I like to cook with, I planted. Now if my brown thumb will step aside so I can keep these suckers alive, I would greatly appreciate it.

Oh, and my hand is not sweaty in this picture. It’s wet from washing the thyme. I promise.

4. Little Bear pushes around her little bee all day long. Sometimes I strip her down and watch her do it in her diaper because diaper butts (and half-naked babies) are the cutest thing in the world.

Moms? Am I right, or am I right?

5. I made this pasta dish with turkey and spinach meatballs that I thought Lucy would love—sort of a grownup Spaghettios. She didn’t dig it as much as I did. But I really, really, really dug it. So the bar was set high. I’ll post the recipe this week so you too can make your “kids” a healthy pasta dish. And if it’s for you, that’s okay too.

6. My daughter and my husband have the same hair. And it makes me smile.

These two are my saving grace. When everything goes pear-shaped, they’re right there to make it apple-shaped again. Or banana-shaped. Or whatever fruit is very, very symmetrical.

Happy monday!

-RDG