Crazytown State of the Union

This post is what the LB would call a sneak attack and what I, the KP, would call “KP standard operating procedure.” Meaning, I don’t do anything consistently. Except feed my child and poop. It’s been since god-knows when I last posted to this blog, leaving all the dirty work to the LB. I abandoned her, bloggedy-speaking, but I had a rough move into the little apartment a year ago with the IC and never got my blog legs back. Until now. And so, humble readers, I’m here to represent the other half, the shadow side, if you will, of Crazytown. Far from dormant, Crazytown is just as crazy as it’s ever been. More so, actually. Did you know that the LB is, in addition to her wine-purveying job, in charge of our theatre company’s tour? She’s updating spreadsheets, getting stipend checks cut, making us discuss things like “per diems” and other unbelievably bureaucratic shit like that. If you’d told LB 5 years ago she’d be doing that, she might have laughed your nose off. I just follow orders nowadays and it feels good! (Just kidding, LB, you aren’t drunk with power yet. Yet.)

LB and I have spent the last 2 years working on a play with our theatre company. Even though we don’t live together in a single geographic location we are fortunate enough to have a reason to spend some portion of almost every day together at some point for some reason, contrived or not. We are married on Facebook.  First I married LB on Facebook, then she married SHG, but strangely I am not also married to SHG. Shhhhhh…. I think we broke Facebook. We were all three of thinking of getting married in the real world just to get stuff on a registry. What do you think? Three women (in other relationships) getting married for the photo op and registry? Isn’t that a genius scheme?

But I digress. What about the KP? I’m in the process of leaving tinytown, my cute 2 br apartment that’s just a hop-step-and-jump from LB, for a real house in a real neighborhood just a smidge further away from LB. I’m shacking up (or homing in) with “Meatball” a man-person with a nickname accidentally (or was it?) coined by SHG. He has a daughter, too, and she’s 10 years old, help me god. We are going to abide by our promise to his parents to take her to church each week, help me god. What’s the day I’m supposed to do that?

The 10-year-old, help me god, has been raised by conservative Catholic grandparents so I feel I’m about to go on the ride of my life as we uncover the panoply of cultural and moral biases that have been pre-programmed into her wee noggin by “Those Who Keep Fox News On All Day Like a Damn Sweater,” my nickname for Meatball’s parents. SHG and LB in particular have already been indispensable friends for listening to me ventilate about TWKFNOADLADS. I feel, as always, deeply grateful for my community of friends whom I know will transform this little girl’s frightened worldview into one that is far more tolerant and open-minded, just by being themselves.

SHG Meme Attack

So, I was tagged by Starrhillgirl for this meme. This means I have to do it. I signed a contract long ago stating that I would indulge her whims to the best of my ability and I can’t really claim to be unable to fulfill this task. So, the deal:

I have to link to her here and say thanks. Thanks SHG!

I have to say 7 interesting things about myself.

I also have to nominate 7 other bloggers. I don’t actually know many people who blog, I mean, like for real. I actually don’t know many people who blog at all. Even in a computer only sense. Meaning I read blogs but rarely comment. So I don’t know the people whose blogs I read. Dig? So, um. I will just have to fling some of these at people who are strangers as far as they know.

Interesting facts: (these are not very interesting)

I am not a citizen of the US.

I don’t drive, as in, I have never had a license in my life.

I don’t like fruit except for apples, which I am picky about, pomegranates, which might as well be gold, and green papaya.

I hate the word “gifted”. For that matter, you can include “gifting”. I am pretty much only ok with the real word, gift.

At any given moment it is very likely that I am worried. I like to keep a low-grade anxiety running all the time.

I recently went skiing for the second time in my life. My greatest relief was not that I did pretty well, but that the redneck population had a strong showing on the mountain. I was terrified everyone would be rich “ski people” and I would be shamed off the slopes.

I just finished off half a tube of mini eggs trying to think of something else to say.

My 7:

Elsie

The Widows Cookbook

Fatbiscuit

Fast Grow the Weeds

Food in Jars

Jocelyn’s Stories

Urban Hennery

There you have it.

xo,

LB

Random Tidbits

Dear two readers,

It has been months since my last post. We have gone from the first buds of spring to the first chill of fall. What the fuck, eh? I am not entirely sure where the summer went to. I am now without a camera so you are saved from skill-less shots of my food or the dust bunny in the corner. You are welcome. Though I can’t really take the credit. I did however make it to the beach this year. The first year in a VERY long time. I don’t think I have been on an American beach since my childhood. This summer, however, I said enough is enough. I am going on a trip, with my fella. Another first. At least of the totally for fun variety. So we packed ourselves off to the beach for two whole nights and had a fabulous time. The room was nice but not fancy. It did include a balcony that looked out over the bay or some such. From that balcony I enjoyed two sunsets and a cheap beer on ice with lime. Yes. I. Did. Tacky? Oh yes. Soo delicious. We had at least two meals that were so huge I was reduced to hysterical tears. I was so sure that the fella had embarrassed me by ordering a meal described as a “feast”(I threatened to move tables) that when my pasta came and was approximately the size of a bird bath I thought I would die. So, instead of trying to play the whole thing down, I burst into shrieks and insisted that the poor man heft it himself in order to see just how heavy it was. It went on and on. I was completely unable to answer the waitress when she asked “Are you all doing o.k.” Luckily the fella is a very good sport. I also sat on the beach. In a beach chair with a cooler and an umbrella. Very bizarre. I got thrown around by the waves, thank you tropical storm Danny, and saw my first ever sand fiddler. Totally fabulous. Also, there were wild horses and clouds of dragon flies. On the way home we took a driving tour of most of the eastern shore and got out to collect shells in Cape Charles. The towns were very charming, minus the Kay Kay Kay sign and the very pungent Tyson’s plant. currently I am enjoying my porch and listening to my neighbors having a sing along. Someone got their guitar out. It is actually pretty great.

xo,

LB

Oh hey, a blog!

So, I am ignoring this thing lately.

For now, have this:

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Dydd Gwyl Dewi hapus

Happy St. Davids day.

The day I vow to learn Welsh every year. So far, not so much. I didn’t get around to getting daffodils this year but I will blame it on the fact that the day fell on a Sunday.

I did have tea and Welsh cakes and Club biscuits earlier in the week with The Fella and my little Mummy so not so bad and I do love the Land of My Fathers!

On this first day of March we are getting snow, quite a bit. It seems like it has been forever since we have had a real snow. Didn’t we used to have blizzards?

I have had a very quiet weekend which I think, even though I get a bit restless, was right on time. I hunkered down and did very little mixin it up. In fact, I am sure I let some phone calls slide but, well, I needed the peace. I did have a lovely dinner with Starrhillgirl last night and we were joined by the Kingpin a bit later on. We came up with at least three schemes (ridiculous of course) so I think it was a very productive night.

Random tidbit: I was looking at my kitchen chairs and realised I have recovered them twice, both times right after a big fight with an ex. Interesting? Well, to me it is.

The fact that I have been analyzing the kitchen chairs should indicate how quiet the weekend has been.

Things on my mind:

Tiny houses.

Fake weddings.

Fake wedding pictures.

Dinner.

The Spring.

Finding a way take a damn trip.

xo,

LB

I don’t even know where to start

On this guy’s comment.

I mean……..?

Local paper covers a gay marriage ban protest.

The weekly

Maybe you can figure out where to start?

xo,

LB

Snow and Sweets

Well, we finally got some snow to speak of, which is the only reason for it to be so damn cold outside.

I spent quite a few minutes with the fella flashing my camera into the night and watching the air fill with tiny lights.

img_0402We also have had some beautiful days since that night. Warm and with sun and the windows open and they came just in time.

There is a light at the end of the Winter tunnel. I have never noticed a winter so tough. I am sure that the atmosphere around the country has it’s say in what is going on this Winter. In these last days, though, you can feel the spring coming. My Lilac tree has tiny little buds. The other night when the fella and I were getting out of the car on the farm, you could smell it. The moon was working up to tonight and the hills were bright and the deer were foraging and you could smell the earth for sure.

Good sign.

Also, in the land of random kitchen/food projects some of us manged to make a very successful batch of caramels.

We also managed to get another delicious dinner out of Elsie while we were there. She is getting the short end of the stick, but don’t tell.

We celebrated our achievement with homemade mac and cheese and golden beets.

Some pics.

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img_0436Sweet.

xo,

LB



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