1. Twitter, to confirm it was an earthquake.
1.5. Every other social media site, to again confirm it was an earthquake.
2. MARC, VRE, and WMATA, to confirm that there is no way in Hell you're getting home because the DC transportation system falls apart when it's slightly windy, so a 5.9 earthquake surely spells commuter doom.
3. Your cats, via your boyfriend
4. Your wine cellar, which said boyfriend knows to check before you get home in case he needs to brace you for some horrible, tragic news of loss.
5. Your rum stash, since a hurricane's a-comin' (hurriquake = God is smiting DC. I don't really blame Him).
6. Probably your gas lines and your chimney, which I didn't really do, I figured the carbon monoxide detector would let me know if there's a problem with the first part of that. God, why am I so tired? I think I'll just curl up and let that beeping noise guide me to sleep.
24 August 2011
13 August 2011
Three Vineyards Proving You Wrong About Virginia Wine
First, I just got back from a long vacation at Chincoteague Island, VA. Please excuse my brain as it struggles to return to normal and having deeper thoughts than "This wave is mine. MINE!" and "Mmm, hello, oyster." My brain's resistance might be rooted in the fact that 2L year begins in ten days, and so I'm officially slipping back into law school mode. This means I need to write about something to make me happy, keep me centered. Something like, well, wine.
Early this summer, Nick's Dad (Mike) kindly came from Connecticut to help us move into the house. Mike proved to be the MVP of the move- saving the dolly, driving trucks, and chasing squatters out of the basement. Since Mike surrendered his Father's Day weekend in an act of paternal love to move his firstborn's many many boxes in the sweltering Virginia heat, Nick decided to take his dad out to Loudoun's vineyards as a thank you and Father's Day present. My dad, who also loves Mike for saving him from doing manual labor, decided to grill for us at the family homestead (also in Loudoun). Since I've been meaning to share more about Virginia's excellent wine scene- especially in Loudoun County's vineyards- I decided to share with you my thoughts on three of Loudoun's best vineyards.
First, we went to Breaux, a longtime favorite of mine. Breaux's wines are versatile, and the vineyard's reputation as a heavyweight in the Virginia wine scene is well-deserved. When Governor McDonnell went to France, one of the wines he brought was a Breaux wine. Driving up to the Mediterranean style villa, one can't be impressed with the stunning view of the Blue Ridge mountains and gentle slopes of green vines contrasting with the white stone of the gate. Breaux's Cajun charm- stemming from it's owner's Louisiana roots- makes the scene warm, not austere, and very hospitable to fans like myself and the novices.
We tasted 11 wines, Mike tasting for free on Father's Day. The 2008 Barrel Select Chardonnay's ($22.00) slightly oaky, vanilla and white pepper tastes seduced both Nick and I (note: we aren't white drinkers). The long finish and full-body coated my tongue, but the wine was not overoaked at all- something often done with Chardonnays and ruins the subtle tones of the wine. The 2006 Meritage's ($28.00) chocolate nose and strong but short finish has nice tannins- we took a bottle home. I almost splurged my entire budget on the 2006 Nebbiolo ($38.00), which is ungodly good- a tobacco and violet wine, big red- all I could want. I also loved the 2010 Cabernet Rose ($19.00) as an easy drinking and sweeter rose, and brought the sweet white Chere Marie ($15.00) home with me because of the rose water, strawberry and pineapple tastes. Drinking it made me want spicy fish and clams, and it was one of those wines that flourishes in stainless steel without getting the metallic tang many wines pick up. Mike, looking to bring wines home to a white-only drinker and bring her to the red side, picked up the Cabernet Rose- excellent for red drinkers looking for a summer wine, or for converting white drinkers.
One wine Breaux did not taste unless you requested- but I have in my basement- is the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon ($24.00!!! a steal!) that won many awards. Tasting it in January with my friend Christina blew me away, and I told my pourer that this Cab Sav beat some of the Napa ones I'd tasted while out there. It's an excellent wine, and if they have some tastes left- have some. Buy the bottle. Then mess with your friends as they think they're drinking a Napa Cab Sav and watch their minds explode when you say, "Nope, Virginia."
Next, we idled down the road to another stellar Loudoun vineyard, Hillsborough Vineyards. This is Nick's favorite vineyard, a great vineyard for reds (not much for white drinkers, sorry). The log cabin overlooking the hills and dairy farms in Hillsboro, a tiny village outside Purcellville offers bucolic scenery and allows one to pretend that Western Loudoun hasn't seen a flood of developers and McMansions in the last ten years. Hillsborough now tastes in the lodge area of the cabin, which feels like a restored barn and gives a country chic to the tasting. However, there's a bit of noise from voices echoing off the wood, so be prepared. Especially if you encounter a family with younger children. Like we did. This was when I told Mike that he wasn't getting grandkids from Nick and I. Luckily, our pourer was really nice and made sure to speak up.
Nick loved the 2008 Carnelian ($22.00) white wine, which tasted like vanilla bean ice cream to him. I got keffir lime, which goes to show how the same wine can taste totally different to two people. We both loved the 2007 Bloodstone ($28.00), which hit the back of my tongue with smoky clove and vanilla, reminding me a bit of the Djarum Blacks I smoked in college. We ended up drinking a bottle on the patio with a baguette and salami, soaking in the views and Mike ridiculing my Baltimore shanking knife. The 2007 Onyx ($32.00) came home with both Mike and I, a big red with a "great nose!!!" (according to my notes). I loved the taste of anise and black fig that I got from it, which made me want lamb chops. Mmm, lamb chops. Finally, the 2009 Serefina is the perfect summer rose at $21- an apple-y, dry rose that made me dream of Provence. Perfect for patio sipping.
Finally, heading towards Dad's and our stomachs starting to call for steak, we drove down Route 9 to Route 287 to visit Sunset Hills Vineyard- a bit of a newcomer to the area. For a long time, I didn't know much about this vineyard, housed in a converted barn and using Amish-made oak barrels for their wine. After finally trying it with Christina in January- and loving their now-discontinued Albemarle Rose- I knew Nick needed to try it. Since Nick's dad was still willing to be "dragged" to one more vineyard, we slipped in right before closing. Our pourer didn't mind, even though he was alone and there were two other families appearing at the same time (wine tasting brings families together, people. Remember that. Also, cheaper than therapy, and teenagers = DD!). They have these neat little glass hand-blown decanter thingys on their bottles which I really want, alas, handmade means expensive.
Anyways, the wines. Would Sunset Hills disappoint my two red tasters? Not at all. Sunset Hills has the smallest selection with 6 wines, but it appears the winemaker concentrates on wines that he's tweaked to perfection. All of the wines were great, none of them earning a bad comment in my notes- I just couldn't pick a favorite! The clean, light and crisp 2009 Sunset White ($22) is exactly the wine I usually hate for tasting too metallic, too sharp- but this nursed my tiring palate back to health and surprised me. The 2010 Sunset Rose (also $22) reminded me of prosecco without the bubbles mixed with strawberries. I actually loved the 2009 Merlot ($22), which I usually find too jammy or acidic. Sunset Hills' Merlot instead has warm raspberry and vanilla tones on the finish, a lovely surprise.
As bits of rain began to splatter outside, we stayed safe and warm in the barn and its large selection of food and dining areas. A perfect end to our tasting trail, and the ideal place for a couple to hole up on and munch while drinking. Our pourer never shooed us out or hurried us along, kindly taking the time to talk to our trio- especially me, the wannabe wine snob. His good cheer and laid back manner really helped make our time especially nice, and had no problem explaining things about different wines to Mike, Nick, and I. He also took the time to explain how Sunset Hills concentrates on sustainable farming, something which I fully support. A perfect end to our tasting trail.
We finally emerged from the barn once the splats of raindrops stopped, and made our way to Dad's with wine and beer. While I can't offer you my father and brother's grillmaster skills- or the ending of playing with Loki, our family dog- I can tell you that Sunset Hills, Breaux, and Hillsborough are three vineyards showing the world that Virginia can and does make damn good wines of all kinds.
First picture: Hillsborough. Second picture: Loki. All pictures taken by and belong to me- please contact me at Liz (at) lizinlife (dot) com for questions about usage, etc. I did not receive anything in return for my reviews, or any freebies, etc.
First, we went to Breaux, a longtime favorite of mine. Breaux's wines are versatile, and the vineyard's reputation as a heavyweight in the Virginia wine scene is well-deserved. When Governor McDonnell went to France, one of the wines he brought was a Breaux wine. Driving up to the Mediterranean style villa, one can't be impressed with the stunning view of the Blue Ridge mountains and gentle slopes of green vines contrasting with the white stone of the gate. Breaux's Cajun charm- stemming from it's owner's Louisiana roots- makes the scene warm, not austere, and very hospitable to fans like myself and the novices.
We tasted 11 wines, Mike tasting for free on Father's Day. The 2008 Barrel Select Chardonnay's ($22.00) slightly oaky, vanilla and white pepper tastes seduced both Nick and I (note: we aren't white drinkers). The long finish and full-body coated my tongue, but the wine was not overoaked at all- something often done with Chardonnays and ruins the subtle tones of the wine. The 2006 Meritage's ($28.00) chocolate nose and strong but short finish has nice tannins- we took a bottle home. I almost splurged my entire budget on the 2006 Nebbiolo ($38.00), which is ungodly good- a tobacco and violet wine, big red- all I could want. I also loved the 2010 Cabernet Rose ($19.00) as an easy drinking and sweeter rose, and brought the sweet white Chere Marie ($15.00) home with me because of the rose water, strawberry and pineapple tastes. Drinking it made me want spicy fish and clams, and it was one of those wines that flourishes in stainless steel without getting the metallic tang many wines pick up. Mike, looking to bring wines home to a white-only drinker and bring her to the red side, picked up the Cabernet Rose- excellent for red drinkers looking for a summer wine, or for converting white drinkers.
One wine Breaux did not taste unless you requested- but I have in my basement- is the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon ($24.00!!! a steal!) that won many awards. Tasting it in January with my friend Christina blew me away, and I told my pourer that this Cab Sav beat some of the Napa ones I'd tasted while out there. It's an excellent wine, and if they have some tastes left- have some. Buy the bottle. Then mess with your friends as they think they're drinking a Napa Cab Sav and watch their minds explode when you say, "Nope, Virginia."
Breaux Vineyards, 36888 Breaux Vineyards Lane, Purcellville
Tasting- $10.00
Good for white and red fans, big groups, views
Next, we idled down the road to another stellar Loudoun vineyard, Hillsborough Vineyards. This is Nick's favorite vineyard, a great vineyard for reds (not much for white drinkers, sorry). The log cabin overlooking the hills and dairy farms in Hillsboro, a tiny village outside Purcellville offers bucolic scenery and allows one to pretend that Western Loudoun hasn't seen a flood of developers and McMansions in the last ten years. Hillsborough now tastes in the lodge area of the cabin, which feels like a restored barn and gives a country chic to the tasting. However, there's a bit of noise from voices echoing off the wood, so be prepared. Especially if you encounter a family with younger children. Like we did. This was when I told Mike that he wasn't getting grandkids from Nick and I. Luckily, our pourer was really nice and made sure to speak up.
Nick loved the 2008 Carnelian ($22.00) white wine, which tasted like vanilla bean ice cream to him. I got keffir lime, which goes to show how the same wine can taste totally different to two people. We both loved the 2007 Bloodstone ($28.00), which hit the back of my tongue with smoky clove and vanilla, reminding me a bit of the Djarum Blacks I smoked in college. We ended up drinking a bottle on the patio with a baguette and salami, soaking in the views and Mike ridiculing my Baltimore shanking knife. The 2007 Onyx ($32.00) came home with both Mike and I, a big red with a "great nose!!!" (according to my notes). I loved the taste of anise and black fig that I got from it, which made me want lamb chops. Mmm, lamb chops. Finally, the 2009 Serefina is the perfect summer rose at $21- an apple-y, dry rose that made me dream of Provence. Perfect for patio sipping.
Hillsborough Vineyards, 36716 Charles Town Pike, Purcellville
Tasting- $8.00
Good for red fans, views, smaller groups
Finally, heading towards Dad's and our stomachs starting to call for steak, we drove down Route 9 to Route 287 to visit Sunset Hills Vineyard- a bit of a newcomer to the area. For a long time, I didn't know much about this vineyard, housed in a converted barn and using Amish-made oak barrels for their wine. After finally trying it with Christina in January- and loving their now-discontinued Albemarle Rose- I knew Nick needed to try it. Since Nick's dad was still willing to be "dragged" to one more vineyard, we slipped in right before closing. Our pourer didn't mind, even though he was alone and there were two other families appearing at the same time (wine tasting brings families together, people. Remember that. Also, cheaper than therapy, and teenagers = DD!). They have these neat little glass hand-blown decanter thingys on their bottles which I really want, alas, handmade means expensive.
Anyways, the wines. Would Sunset Hills disappoint my two red tasters? Not at all. Sunset Hills has the smallest selection with 6 wines, but it appears the winemaker concentrates on wines that he's tweaked to perfection. All of the wines were great, none of them earning a bad comment in my notes- I just couldn't pick a favorite! The clean, light and crisp 2009 Sunset White ($22) is exactly the wine I usually hate for tasting too metallic, too sharp- but this nursed my tiring palate back to health and surprised me. The 2010 Sunset Rose (also $22) reminded me of prosecco without the bubbles mixed with strawberries. I actually loved the 2009 Merlot ($22), which I usually find too jammy or acidic. Sunset Hills' Merlot instead has warm raspberry and vanilla tones on the finish, a lovely surprise.
As bits of rain began to splatter outside, we stayed safe and warm in the barn and its large selection of food and dining areas. A perfect end to our tasting trail, and the ideal place for a couple to hole up on and munch while drinking. Our pourer never shooed us out or hurried us along, kindly taking the time to talk to our trio- especially me, the wannabe wine snob. His good cheer and laid back manner really helped make our time especially nice, and had no problem explaining things about different wines to Mike, Nick, and I. He also took the time to explain how Sunset Hills concentrates on sustainable farming, something which I fully support. A perfect end to our tasting trail.
Sunset Hills Vineyard, 38295 Fremont Overlook Lane, Purcellville
Tasting- $7.00
Good for couples, small groups, cold and rainy days, organic
We finally emerged from the barn once the splats of raindrops stopped, and made our way to Dad's with wine and beer. While I can't offer you my father and brother's grillmaster skills- or the ending of playing with Loki, our family dog- I can tell you that Sunset Hills, Breaux, and Hillsborough are three vineyards showing the world that Virginia can and does make damn good wines of all kinds.
27 July 2011
A Suburban Horror Story
I’ve been staring incessantly at my phone for the last few days, begging it to light up with an unknown number. It seems strange to many that I would want this, but those also waiting for Law journals to make a decision that appears to involve intense negotiations which could unhinge the universe understand.
Yes, friends, law school even owns your soul in summer.
In other news, I’ve been distracting myself by turning the house into a home for Nick and I, which leads me to my story of bloodshed and pain. Or itchiness, whatever. Buying a house means we now have walls to paint, furniture to buy (and assemble), and a yard. Currently, our summer has had an average temperature far past boiling point and the humidity levels surpassed “sauna” and are now at “Venus”. This means half my plants are dying, my herbs are cursing at me, and the weeds are frolicking with joy. Last night, enjoying a cool day of 90 degrees with only 80% humidity, I decided to use the waning evening hours to start tending to said weeds. I stepped out the front door, for a moment charmed by the sounds of children and faint twinkling of lightning bugs.
And then I heard the dreaded high pitched whine of a mosquito and two pinches, one on my arm, one on my leg. I realized that my blood had not been soured to the taste of these flying Typhoid Marys by spicy food and wine, and I still served as a Happy Meal with legs to them.
I retreated inside, sprayed myself down with OFF, and ventured out. However, within five minutes, another whine and pinch on the other arm made me think I needed more OFF. Back in I went, precious daytime light rapidly vanishing, along with my patience. The process repeated itself two more times until I gave into my frustration and doused myself in so much OFF that my arms glistened like an oiled-up wrestler ready to get down and grab hold of an opponent.
It didn’t even take a minute for a mosquito to land on an arm still soaking with OFF and take a bite. I screamed some obscenities, teaching the neighborhood kids fun new ways to drop the F-bomb and combine crude words for female body parts with breakfast food, and slapped the little bastard of itchy doom into a blood and wing smeared pancake. I then retreated inside to shower, deciding that all the OFF was doing was probably upping my chances of cancer and ceding the yard to the bugs. Later that night, I googled to see if DDT was still an option (it’s not) and asked Dad his advice (“A cigar, it keeps all sorts of pests away, including hippies.”).
On the upside, however, I still seem to be resistant to poison ivy, which I might have accidentally smacked on my leg after being bitten by a mosquito.
If anyone has any mosquito-repelling advice, I am begging and pleading for help (I’ll also take tips on killing outdoor ants). Please, my garden needs weeding without me needing quinine and potentially using enough DEET to cause the EPA to declare my yard a Superfund site. Also, remember when you move into a house, you get a yard, and Mother Nature is not as awesome as you remember.
Yes, friends, law school even owns your soul in summer.
In other news, I’ve been distracting myself by turning the house into a home for Nick and I, which leads me to my story of bloodshed and pain. Or itchiness, whatever. Buying a house means we now have walls to paint, furniture to buy (and assemble), and a yard. Currently, our summer has had an average temperature far past boiling point and the humidity levels surpassed “sauna” and are now at “Venus”. This means half my plants are dying, my herbs are cursing at me, and the weeds are frolicking with joy. Last night, enjoying a cool day of 90 degrees with only 80% humidity, I decided to use the waning evening hours to start tending to said weeds. I stepped out the front door, for a moment charmed by the sounds of children and faint twinkling of lightning bugs.
And then I heard the dreaded high pitched whine of a mosquito and two pinches, one on my arm, one on my leg. I realized that my blood had not been soured to the taste of these flying Typhoid Marys by spicy food and wine, and I still served as a Happy Meal with legs to them.
I retreated inside, sprayed myself down with OFF, and ventured out. However, within five minutes, another whine and pinch on the other arm made me think I needed more OFF. Back in I went, precious daytime light rapidly vanishing, along with my patience. The process repeated itself two more times until I gave into my frustration and doused myself in so much OFF that my arms glistened like an oiled-up wrestler ready to get down and grab hold of an opponent.
It didn’t even take a minute for a mosquito to land on an arm still soaking with OFF and take a bite. I screamed some obscenities, teaching the neighborhood kids fun new ways to drop the F-bomb and combine crude words for female body parts with breakfast food, and slapped the little bastard of itchy doom into a blood and wing smeared pancake. I then retreated inside to shower, deciding that all the OFF was doing was probably upping my chances of cancer and ceding the yard to the bugs. Later that night, I googled to see if DDT was still an option (it’s not) and asked Dad his advice (“A cigar, it keeps all sorts of pests away, including hippies.”).
On the upside, however, I still seem to be resistant to poison ivy, which I might have accidentally smacked on my leg after being bitten by a mosquito.
If anyone has any mosquito-repelling advice, I am begging and pleading for help (I’ll also take tips on killing outdoor ants). Please, my garden needs weeding without me needing quinine and potentially using enough DEET to cause the EPA to declare my yard a Superfund site. Also, remember when you move into a house, you get a yard, and Mother Nature is not as awesome as you remember.
12 July 2011
A Virginia Summer
I'm walking around, killing time, letting the heat convince my usually quick and pointed steps to slow, soften. I rarely walk around here just to walk- usually there's a reason driving me, and I'm so focused on my mission I fail to notice my surroundings.
The kitschy shop on the corner with vintage metal garden benches, peeling reds and greens slowly curling back from the metal. A lone outcast, seeking silence and solitude from St. Elmo's hubbub, sits with a coffee and a book. He nods, then returns to whatever adventure he's partaking through the written word.
I walk past an old Baptist church, one I walk past often. The doors have red panels, I realize- have they always? Did I just realize this? How long has it been like that? They look freshly painted, I tell myself- but wait- since when were the windowpanes teal and purple? How did I miss that?
It disturbs me, sometimes, how someone who lived, as a child, in her dream world, could miss so many of these things. I used to always notice the minute details, imagine the stories of the gingerbread Victorians in my hometown. Now, I've become one of those people, so caught up in the task list, the smartphone, the must-do-now and should've-done-earlier.
Growing up, a summer night like this meant pina colada Slurpees and catching fireflies, running through the neighborhood with flashlights- "Got you! My turn, my turn!"- and staying out until our parents called us in with truly exasperated tones- "Elizabeth, now".
Perhaps that's why I chose the tropical coconut and pineapple flavored smoothie, I mused, staring at the church. Maybe the suffocating steam in the air, the incoming summer storm, all these things triggered the memory of summers past in my unconscious, the slow walks home from 7-11, sipping my way as crystallized ice shards melted into sugar water, imagining the stories of old houses. Deep inside, there's still a little girl in a dreamy world, beckoning me to return again.
30 June 2011
Caffeinated Foodie Review(ish): Telegraph Station
Moving to SoAlx/Huntington meant I had to give up many of the mainstays of my beloved Del Ray neighborhood. No more funky coffeeshops or bistros, I knew that I was wandering into Fourbucks territory. The bar selection seemed limited.
But SoAlx anticipated my arrival, it appears, with the opening of Telegraph Station, an awesome little coffeeshop, cafe and bar playing laid back, beachy tunes and serving up some kick ass coffees.
First, their coffee is good. And they have almond milk. They foam their almond milk well- really well, which is impressive. The lattes and chai are blended well, never too heavy. They have freshly squeezed orange juice- made right there while you wait. Same with their smoothies- always freshly made, order by order.
Second, they have a kick ass bar. They have bottles of PBR for the cheap hipster in all of us, but why drink that when you look at what's on tap? They have Kona Longboard which is one of my favorite freaking beers ever. They also have the esteemed local brew Port City, a kick ass Alexandria craft beer. Oh, and Kelly's Irish Cider. Mmm, yes. Good beer. Did I mention they have bluegrass every week? No? Well, they do. Bonus points!
I've eaten their frittatas here, but it looks like all the food is fresh, local, and pretty affordable. The frittatas was perfect for my hangover this morning, complete with a side of Texas Pete. Nom.
The atmosphere, in case you couldn't tell, is pretty laid back too. It's a neighborhood joint through and through. Mommy groups meet here midday during the week, and there's a crowd of people like me drifting in and out for coffee and wifi during the day. It's an overall chill spot that could easily become the St. Elmo's Pub of SoAlx (don't worry, St. Elmo's, I'll still come visit). To be honest, I was scared I'd lose this vibe moving here. Telegraph Station has renewed my hope and won a spot in my heart. Hell, I love it so much I'm blogging from here.
In short, I tell my new neighbors joining me in the infiltration of SoAlx to support your local coffeeshop and bar- and join me at Telegraph Station. The brew, the atmosphere, the coffee- it's all good here.
Telegraph Station
5735 Telegraph Road, Alexandria
www.telegraphstation.com
But SoAlx anticipated my arrival, it appears, with the opening of Telegraph Station, an awesome little coffeeshop, cafe and bar playing laid back, beachy tunes and serving up some kick ass coffees.
First, their coffee is good. And they have almond milk. They foam their almond milk well- really well, which is impressive. The lattes and chai are blended well, never too heavy. They have freshly squeezed orange juice- made right there while you wait. Same with their smoothies- always freshly made, order by order.
Second, they have a kick ass bar. They have bottles of PBR for the cheap hipster in all of us, but why drink that when you look at what's on tap? They have Kona Longboard which is one of my favorite freaking beers ever. They also have the esteemed local brew Port City, a kick ass Alexandria craft beer. Oh, and Kelly's Irish Cider. Mmm, yes. Good beer. Did I mention they have bluegrass every week? No? Well, they do. Bonus points!
I've eaten their frittatas here, but it looks like all the food is fresh, local, and pretty affordable. The frittatas was perfect for my hangover this morning, complete with a side of Texas Pete. Nom.
The atmosphere, in case you couldn't tell, is pretty laid back too. It's a neighborhood joint through and through. Mommy groups meet here midday during the week, and there's a crowd of people like me drifting in and out for coffee and wifi during the day. It's an overall chill spot that could easily become the St. Elmo's Pub of SoAlx (don't worry, St. Elmo's, I'll still come visit). To be honest, I was scared I'd lose this vibe moving here. Telegraph Station has renewed my hope and won a spot in my heart. Hell, I love it so much I'm blogging from here.
In short, I tell my new neighbors joining me in the infiltration of SoAlx to support your local coffeeshop and bar- and join me at Telegraph Station. The brew, the atmosphere, the coffee- it's all good here.
Telegraph Station
5735 Telegraph Road, Alexandria
www.telegraphstation.com
29 June 2011
Crafting block?
I think I have a crafting block (get it? Like writer's block? I'm so witty).
This picture is from Ikea. It's served me well, but it's a little blah. Especially for our basement rec room. I need something with color... but what?
Here's where I beg for your help, my super creative readers. Help me refashion this. You're my only hope.
Fyi, the glass itself is frosted to give that three matted frame look. I have no problem removing the glass.
Chirp
So, sorry about the lack of posting. Apparently, FiOS is a popular lady and cannot come visit us for another week, meaning I have been TV and Internet-less. It's like the 1920's, people. I'm alive, but I keep trying to hashtag my conversations.
What, I'm not addicted?
But we're settling in. We bought a new mattress, which makes me so unbelievably happy to no longer be sleeping on the Sheet Rock of Doom that we slept on before. We're getting used to the weirdness of having a backyard, painting options, etc.
And, I'm getting used to one of the perils of homeownership. Modern Family fans will like this one.
We have a chirper.
One of the two smoke detectors, conveniently located right next to each other, started chirping last night. One of them. I cannot, for the life of me, decide which one it is. And I refuse to just do the logical thing and get on a ladder, take one down, see if that's it, ta da. Because I should be able to hear it. I am a law student, dammit. A 2L. I should not have to trial and error this thing. I will not let my house win a battle this early.
Also, because this will inevitably end up happening if I don't learn to track it down with my keen hearing alone.
Houses conspire against you, people. Be aware and be ready.
What, I'm not addicted?
But we're settling in. We bought a new mattress, which makes me so unbelievably happy to no longer be sleeping on the Sheet Rock of Doom that we slept on before. We're getting used to the weirdness of having a backyard, painting options, etc.
And, I'm getting used to one of the perils of homeownership. Modern Family fans will like this one.
We have a chirper.
One of the two smoke detectors, conveniently located right next to each other, started chirping last night. One of them. I cannot, for the life of me, decide which one it is. And I refuse to just do the logical thing and get on a ladder, take one down, see if that's it, ta da. Because I should be able to hear it. I am a law student, dammit. A 2L. I should not have to trial and error this thing. I will not let my house win a battle this early.
Also, because this will inevitably end up happening if I don't learn to track it down with my keen hearing alone.
Houses conspire against you, people. Be aware and be ready.
