Weekend Linkage: It's a barnyard hula birthday!


I gotta be honest: This week felt like it might never end. Ugh. But this weekend! This weekend we are attending a luau-themed family birthday, relaxing poolside and maaaaybe some kayaking. I am making this delicious grilled pineapple salsa, cucumber mango salad and summer vegetable pasta salad.

This collection of gorgeous charts will tell you when your favorite fruits, veggies and herbs are in season! And they sell prints!

Is your officemate on vacation? Can you afford to sacrifice a keyboard in the name of hilarity/agriculture?

Subway's vegetarian offerings are rather meager, so I was heartbroken when they dropped their only thing worth eating, the Veggie Patty sub. But good news! Subway is testing three new vegan subs in the Washington D.C. area. I hope they make it to my neck of the woods. Nom nom nom.

Eureka! How to use Google+ to update all major social networks.

Eat the Damn Cake: You are probably not a good enough feminist.

RowdyKittens: The Good Life (I am so in love with Tammy's photographs!)

I went downtown with one intention. To burn. I was on fire and I needed to burn out. Consumed with unbridled nerves, a restlessness that buzzed everywhere – worries and wishes demanding mental perusal - I knew there was only one place to go. Downtown. Where I can plug-in and drain myself into the chaos of Denver’s 16th Street.
In 1891, 8 years after his classic novel, Treasure Island, was first published in book-form, author Robert Louis Stevenson learned that the 12-year-old daughter of Henry Clay Ide — then U. S. Commissioner to Samoa, where Stevenson lived — was unhappy that her birthday fell on Christmas Day. Stevenson immediately hatched a charming plan, and soon sent the following letter and accompanying "legal" document to the family — a document in which he transferred the rights to his own birthday to young Annie.
OMG. This:



Have a fantastic weekend!

Adorable hula girl print available here!

I Make Lists: My Favorite Smells

At any given time I have approximately one billion lists of various things, from my grocery list to my list of celebrities that would be most useful in a real life post-apocalyptic survival scenario (note: Ted Nugent). Who doesn't love a good list? This is a list of my favorite smells.


1. Salt water
Having lived in a landlocked state for my entire life, that first whiff of ocean water is intoxicating to me. It means beaches and boardwalks and seashell hunting and toes in the wet sand.

2. Garlic
The scent of garlic being sauteed or roasted sends a message to my brain that says "Delicious things are about to happen to you!" I cannot smell it without getting hungry.

3. Coffee
This is my comfort smell. Coffee is the smell of watching the sun rise, or being cuddled up in bed with a comforter on a cold day.

4. Curry
I would wear it as perfume if it were socially acceptable. My dream apartment would be above an Indian restaurant with fantastic curry.

5. Citrus
Oranges, tangerines, grapefruits, lemons, limes - they all smell like pure sunshine to me.

6. Wood smoke
When I was little, my family had an RV, and on the weekends during the summer we would jaunt off to a campground in nearby Gettysburg. Woodsmoke reminds me of bike rides through the wooded trails, mountain pies, twilight walks and the flickering of all the neighbors' campfires through the trees.

What are your favorite smells?


Print available here. Thanks to Yes and Yes for the post inspiration. 

Weekend Linkage: You Warrior Ladies Need to Get More Sleep



Weekends! Yay! Heat waves! Boo! I hope that you are enjoying the first week of summer and that your face has not melted clean off your head. I took a few days off from exercise after running the Warrior Dash last weekend, and now I'm easing back into my running routine. Afterwards, I feel way more tired than I am used to. I'm not sure if it's the heat or if my muscles are still telling me to sit the eff down, play some video games and drink a beer.

Now that summer has fully arrived, take a minute and learn the signs of heatstroke and how to treat it. If you plan to beat the heat at the pool or the beach (and I know I do) here's a useful post about how Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning.

As much as I love me some Red Sonja, I think that the "armor" that heroines in the fantasy genre typically wear is, frankly, bullshit. So here's a great blog featuring Women Fighters in Reasonable Armor. You know, armor that would actually protect a female person. And they look so much more badass!

Our Veep Joe Biden has an epic supersoaker battle with a bunch of kids. Cute.

The New York Times: "Can Athletes Perform Well on a Vegan Diet?Experts: "Huh? Yeah, I guess. I mean, whatever, you know?"

Well, this is just weird: The second Family Guy pilot from 1996.

Eat the Damn Cake: What happens when you turn thirty.

Yes and Yes on two things I fail at: How to Fight Fair and Why You Need to Go the Eff to Sleep.

Becoming Minimalist: The Simple Guide to a Clutter-Free Home.

A Story About a Hero (warning: Adorable Sheep)

Happy Third Birthday to The Tiny Life!

Have any fantastic adventures planned for the weekend?

Public Service Announcement: It is ridiculously hot outside!

Embers

If you are an East Coaster, I hope that you are thoroughly enjoying this delightful heat wave.

This is your friendly reminder to drink lots of water and look out for your neighbors, friends and family.

If you know someone who is elderly or of limited financial means and maybe without or trying to avoid using an air conditioner, for pete's sake go check on them. People die in this shit.

30 Before 30: Run the Warrior Dash (and live!)

30 Before 30 is a list of 30 new things that I'm trying to accomplish before my 30th birthday. Today I'm checking one off the list!

On Saturday morning, Boyfriend and I jumped in the car and headed 3 hours north into the Poconos to the site of the 2012 Pennsylvania Warrior Dash. The weather was gorgeous. The scenery was gorgeous. The whole trip was lovely and I was feeling super optimistic about the whole day.


We rolled into Pocono International Speedway in Long Pond, PA around 1pm with a flat tire, but we decided to deal with that mess later and headed inside to get our Warrior on.

(Sad Trombone)

The inside of the Dash grounds is organized chaos. The crush of people is what you would expect at a music festival and red tents speckle the entire area with giant banners jutting up into the sky denoting what each is for. We signed our waivers, picked up our packets and headed off to the St. Jude's tent to drop our bags.


Ok guys, here it is. I am friggin' thrilled to report that Boyfriend and I raised a combined $600 for St. Jude Children's Hospital. I am so proud. If you helped us out by donating, thank you, thank you, thank you


We had about an hour before our 3pm heat, so we wandered around, located the beer and watched the mud-people from one of the earlier races come barreling through the finish line. No one seemed to be bleeding or weeping. Good, right?

At 2:45 we headed to the Start to warm up. There was an MC getting everyone fired up, and I'll admit that I was more than a little relieved when he asked for a show of hands from people who were running for time and about six people at the very front raised their hands. The rest of us were just there to get dirty, have fun and hopefully finish with all of our teeth.

At 3 o'clock, the crowd surged forward, passing under a giant pair of flame throwers mounted overhead (note: Ouch. That shit is hot.) and we were off!

I am not a great endurance runner. Under the right conditions (pavement!) with carefully measured breathing, I could pound out the 3.38 miles of the Warrior Dash course pretty easily. But over gravel, rocks, through the woods, over and under fallen trees, through mud with heavy, wet shoes... I was counting on the obstacles to break up the distance and let me catch my breath. Mostly, they did.

I really had no idea how well I'd do on the obstacles. I haven't climbed a rope since high school and while I'm not afraid of heights, I do have a healthy fear of falling a great distance and landing on my face, as everyone should.

Boyfriend is auditioning for the remake of "Predator."

Little did I know that the PA course was almost all climbing. Up fifteen feet and over a rickety wooden balance beam! Up and over a sheer wooden wall with a rope! Up and over another completely vertical but much higher wall with a rope! Up and over a giant wooden arch with 25 other people on top of it at the same time! Shuffling horizontally pressed between two walls so as not to fall into the pit underneath! Up and over a giant cargo net!

And there are no safeties. There are no spotters. There are no cushy bags or rubber mats underneath to catch the fallers-off, ala American Gladiators. There is just hard, hard ground and lots of two-by-fours to smack on the way down. If one were not sure-footed, one could absolutely eat it on any one of these things and seriously eff oneself up in a very unattractive way. I can only assume that all of this was covered in the waiver that I initialed in 65 places and signed without reading.

By the last leg of the course, I was praying for mud and fire. Just no more climbing. We vaulted the flames, ran headlong into the mud pit, slogged underneath the barbed wire (it's real and has a lot of hair stuck to it) and sloshed across the finish line at 49:24.

Under any other circumstances, I would probably be pretty disappointed in that finishing time for a race just a shade over 5k, but considering that we had to queue-up and wait to cross several of the thirteen obstacles and you know, fire and mud and shoddily constructed wooden jungle gyms and stuff, I'm actually pretty A-OK with it.


Boyfriend was a champ throughout the entire thing. He is seemingly built for endurance running and had a much easier time with it than I did, but he stuck with me so we could finish together and was a pillar of support. Of course, I expected nothing less.

Raising money for St. Jude Children's Hospital and qualifying as St. Jude's Warriors proved to be hugely beneficial after the race when we got to use the private shower trucks and port-o-potties reserved just for fundraisers. Don't get me wrong, by our late 3pm start those things were already fully wrecked. The showers all contained an inch of mud and there was not a scrap of toilet paper to be had in the entire compound. But it was still way better than being blasted in the face by a fire hose in the middle of a muddy field or trying to use the corral of 100-something communal potties (also sans T.P.) that had surely achieved chemical weapons-grade nastiness baking in the hot June sun. So again, donors, thanks for helping us avoid the gross!


We each scarfed a complimentary veggie burger in the St. Jude's tent and drank a well earned beer or two. The event wrapped at 5:30, and after a tire change, a flat spare tire as well and a lot of of phone-tag and cajoling, I finally found someone willing to put a new tire on our car at 7pm on a Saturday in the middle of nowhere. We treated ourselves to dinner at the local greasy spoon and headed home.

I am still nursing my cut and bruised knees, which look like I crawled through glass, a slightly strained thigh muscle from when I threw myself over the top of some damn thing and general soreness in pretty much everything.

And yes, I'm running it again next year.

Warrior up!

Friday Linkage: The Amazing Tunnel of Freckles

Happy Friday, internet! We're in the home stretch now. The Warrior Dash is one week away! We've been fundraising for St. Jude Children's hospital and Chef Boyfriend has almost hit his goal! If you're planning some summer philanthropy, we would love your help!


"There’s a real place in the Ukraine that looks like this. This beautiful train tunnel filled with greenery is located in Kleven, Ukraine. Locals call it the “Tunnel of Love” and it’s beautiful even when it’s not all green."

Check out what my enterprising little cousin is doing: Teen wants to paint largest mural in Johnstown.

Amelia Earhart's Anti-Freckle Cream Jar Possibly Found. In other news, Local Blogger's Heart Broken by Realization that Anti-Freckle Cream is a Real Thing :(

How a 9-Year-Old Girl's Food Blog Forced Healthier Lunch Options.

Wandering Earl lays out how he can afford his life of constant travel. This is worth a read and I find it pretty interesting, but the caveat seems to be that he has a skillset and education that makes him highly employable in a variety of fields that lend well to traveling. YMMV.

I know positively squat about awards shows, but apparently Vanity Fair is in the habit of setting up a photobooth at their Oscar Party and the results are pretty friggin' cute.

I definitely have a bit of a lady-crush on Rashida Jones <3

11 Prescription Foods to Cure Your Illnesses. Good news: they're all delicious!

Ok, so... my hair is pretty long right now. And it was long throughout the majority of my childhood. And yet, cute hairstyles still elude me. I am determined to learn at least one cute hairstyle this summer that is not a ponytail. So maybe this is a start?

Eric Valli spent last year following and photographing people who have chosen to live off the grid and his photos are fantastic.

So that's it for this week, kittens. We hope to spend this weekend in close proximity to both a swimming pool and a barbecue, sans thunder and lightening. Fingers crossed!

What are you up to?

On Zigganese, Burglars and Hair-eating.



My dog goes by several aliases. Her legal name is Ziggy Doodlebean, but she's also known as Ziggy, Zig Zigular, Doodle, Dood, Doodler, Stinky, Stinkerbean and Dogfart. I realize that we're probably not doing her any favors by calling her 9,705,704,275 different things, but they also say dogs shouldn't drive cars or take jello shots and I mean pffffffft who listens to that shit.

Ziggy is really, really cute and incredibly sweet. She is funny and adorable and adoring. She loves nothing more than to be my little spoon and I would not trade her for anything.

But she is absolutely as dumb as a rock. She is so, so adorably and frustratingly stupid.

And because of this, certain unusual phrases have become commonplace in our house.


Zigganese: A Glossary


"Doodle Launcher"

About 2 years ago, Ziggy suddenly started refusing to jump into our bed from any position other than from in her bed. She stands in her bed and whimpers at the top of her little lungs until you pull her bed close enough that she can leap from one to the other, like Indiana Jones jumping from a disintegrating wooden bridge onto some other goddamn thing.

"Can you throw her food at her?"

She will not eat a bite of kibble until you have thrown the food at her and she has pretended to kill several pieces. No, we cannot simply wait her out and hope she gets hungry enough to eat like a normal dog. Because frantic barking.

"Go watch the dog eat."

If a Doodle is left alone in the kitchen with no one to watch her eat, will she eat her food? The answer is no. But she will raise hell (see: frantic barking) until she has an adequate audience. It's like performance art, guys.

"STRANDED!"

About once a year, Ziggy goes through a period of several weeks where she decides that the floor is lava and she forgets how to climb stairs. The first time this happened, I freaked out and took her to the vet thinking something was wrong with her (Nope). Now I know that it's just part of her lifecycle. So it's like, hey Ziggy, wanna go outside? Oh, the floor is lava again? Already? Awesome.

"She's eating cat treats."

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory, but just in case you can't read between the lines: CAT POOP. However, we recently got one of these bad boys for our cats and that has eliminated the problem. Until she learns how to climb, of course.

"Hat burglar."

When we wear hats, sometimes she doesn't recognize us. Sometimes I'll put on a hat and take it off over and over again just for the fun of being immediately regarded as OMG STRANGER KILL IT. I've had her eyes checked. They're fine.

"Can't talk, eating hair."

Mmmm. Sweet, delicious hair. In case you were wondering (of course you were) the most delicious hair is apparently located on the bathroom floor. THANKS ZIGGY. Most of it is hers, anyway.