Piggies

Every good and true Southerner has his or her favorite barbecue joint. And naturally, an opinion on the best style of barbecue and the best kind of sauce (or rub, as the case may be).

I'm a fan of the western style of North Carolina barbecue, although, being from Tennessee, I have a real soft place in my heart for a Memphis dry rub. Of course, a rub is only good on ribs and chicken and I do prefer a good pulled pork sandwich any day to ribs.

So, I thought I'd try my hand at making a little pulled pork for supper tonight. We have soccer practice at 6:30, so I wanted to try something I could throw in ye olde crock pot and have waiting for us when we got home. Here's the recipe I'm using, although, I added my own enhancement by using a dry rub on the pig before throwing it in the cooker. I just don't know how non-smoked pork will turn out, so I thought it would probably want a little extra seasoning.

We'll see.

But right now my kitchen smells pretty good, y'all.

Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture

Check it, y'all! Scott sent me this earlier today and I'm really digging it.

You Pull My Strings

I love this song so much, I have to share this. Check out this live version of one of Scott's newest songs, You Pull My Strings.

This was recorded at the Inman Perk show a few months ago. It sounds fantastic.

I Get Weak

There are just moments of pure bliss in this life. Rare, fleeting moments, but moments so amazing the beauty of them can feed your soul for days or weeks, even, as long as you choose to hold onto them and allow their purity to infuse your being.

Last night I had the great fortune to live one of those moments.

While Scott played guitar in preparation for his next show, I lay on the floor sorting through pictures from Brendan's soccer game, just enjoying the music. A couple of songs in, Brendan comes out of his room and stands outside our doorway, listening. When he saw me peeking around the door at him, he smiled the biggest smile and ran to me, arms outstretched. I asked him why he wasn't in bed and he said, very seriously, because I just love you and wanted to be with you. I put him back to bed and returned to my laptop. After about 10 minutes, I hear his door open. A surprisingly lengthy time later – maybe 30 seconds – he appears at our door, but doesn't come in. Again, I ask why he's not in bed, and he very sweetly and shyly says, "Well, Mommy, I just love you so much and I really want to be here with you and I just can't control myself.

He was so very earnest and sweet. I held my arms out and he threw himself into them and gave me the biggest, sweetest hug.

I know he was playing me, a bit, wanting to stay up past his bedtime and hear his daddy play guitar. I know he was just curious about what goes on after he's asleep. But it still melted my heart and made me feel incredibly blessed. Looking at Scott and Brendan and seeing how much alike they are, my heart felt like it would burst from the overflowing of love I felt for my beautiful husband and this amazing little child we made together.

Sometimes, I feel like the weight of my love for Scott and our sons will crush me all the while it sustains me. I spend so much time worrying about them, worrying about losing their love, worrying about not being worthy of their love in some way.

Maybe that's why these moments when I am simply in the moment, feeling and being, and not doing anything seem so beautiful and prized.

I mean ultimately, I know that my fears are meaningless. I need to simply be in this life and enjoy every moment of it, the beauty and the mess of it all.

Volvo Driving Soccer Mom

soccer
Originally uploaded by belleoftheblogATL

Well, lo and behold, if we didn't have our very first soccer game ever this weekend. It was so much fun! I had no idea how much fun it could be to watch a bunch of four-and-five-year olds chasing a ball around a field.

Brendan had a great time and our team...My goodness they were so cute it hurt. But not just cute. They were good!

I mean we have some very good players on our team of four girls and two boys. We've got "Jet" and "Gigi", blonde twins who are quick and scrappy. Their little sister, Noey, who just beams and could be their triplet. Then there's Brendan who, having never played soccer before at all, jumped right into the fray, and had a great time.

Then there's Isaac. This kid has a foot. I mean just a really great player.

We won. By a lot. Our kids scored six goals, I think, to the other team's two. In fairness, they only had three players who showed up for the game and it was hot. One of their players, the only girl on the team, stopped a few minutes into the second half and just stood on the field crying. The coaches stopped the game and we sent two of our players over to play on the other team. We spent the rest of the game rotating players around, although I think we only ever had two of our players on their team at one time.

Toward the end of the game, our team stepped back and let the little girl who cried score a goal. She looked so very happy afterward.

All in all it was great fun and it really made me happy and proud to see my little guy trying so hard and having such a good time. Hopefully he continues to enjoy it and it turns out to be a positive experience for all the kids involved.

Androgynous

For the last two months or so, I've been working with a physical trainer. I've been working out almost daily and eating more consciously. I've always been what I think of as a healthy eater, but I've been actually thinking about whether or not I'm getting enough protein, enough iron, the right number of fruits and veggies in a day, looking at portion size, etc.

Finally, I'm beginning to actually like my body. And while I'm not quite ready for skinny jeans, I did look in the mirror the other day and think, Hey! I look kind of skinny.

I haven't thought that since I was 22. Okay. 23 might be when I started putting on the pounds. And after two babies in four years. I was feeling like I needed to regain control of my body. And I have. And I'm happy about it. And I'm excited about the prospect of wearing clothes I like. Pretty, girly, sexy clothes that say I'm as much a woman and a wife as I am a mommy. Not that I was ever one to wear frumpy sweats all day or something. It's just that I felt less than gorgeous in even my cutest clothes.

So, just when I'm excited about wearing the latest trends, the fashion world goes all Annie Hall and gives me this crap. All I can say is yuck and double yuck!

One Big Holiday

I thought that once school began, I would become a blogging fool. Unfortunately, (or maybe it's actually a good thing!) I simply haven't had time. My seven hours of "free time" each day seems woefully too little. Every minute gets eaten away with something.

Of course, I am enjoying more one-on-one time with Beckett who seems to be enjoying it immensely. He has suddenly decided to speak, crawl, and learn to stand all at the same time. Of course, his mad burgeoning skills mean he is sleeping less, but unlike big brother, he (thankfully) has not had any truly sleepless nights. It just means he's waking once around 11 p.m. and going instantly back to sleep and then getting up for good around 6:30. I can't complain at all. And, naturally, I'm overjoyed that his first word was mama. Brendan went for da-dee as his first word, followed soon thereafter by 'nana which meant banana. Mama came very late to him for some reason. I think he even said uh-oh and ba-ba for bottle before he said mama.

Beckett seems – if it's possible – more verbally advanced. He said mama on Friday, butter, which we interpreted as brother, on Saturday, and then – and I promise I am not making this up – something that sounds an awful lot like I love you on Saturday as well. He has repeated each of these several times, so we're thinking they're not just flukes. And if you repeat the words to him, he says them back.

So, in addition to that excitement, I have been working very hard to find work and think I have done so. I had two interviews last week. One was for a PR job with the (okay don't laugh too hard) National Singles Association. The other was ghost-writing for a headhunter who has a regular column in several business publications.

I will be doing the second one. I started yesterday, brainstorming on topics we could write about. He will get all the credit, but I will get a paycheck which actually matters more to me right now.

I also have several other irons in the fire with respect to work and hopefully I can pull some of them out soon. We shall see.
Scott has a show on Friday at a local coffeehouse and wine bar called Java Monkey. I'm excited about that. He has two other shows coming up in September as well and I'm working on a few other things.

If you happen to be in Atlanta and read this, come by Java Monkey on Friday night and say hi. And, of course, check out my darlin's music.

I'm leaving out a ton of things that have been happening, but I need to get supper going. Scott will be home any minute and I haven't even started yet. Zoinks!

Lost Cause

Just like so many of the things going on in our country today, the decline in purpose and meaning of the NAACP saddens me.

Once upon a time, the NAACP meant something. Stood for something noble and idealistic. Something that mattered. I don't know that this is true any more.

Not when the president of the Atlanta chapter can stand up and say something as ridiculous as his statement that equates deer hunting with dogfighting. Is he serious? Does he really not see the difference?

Does he not understand that deer hunting culls the population to a livable level, reduces the spread of disease, deer are eaten, and that when deer are hunted, they have a chance of getting away? How about that deer are wild animals and if they weren't hunted, they would starve to death?

Let's see how that compares to a dog that is chained up and beaten, thrown in a pen and forced to fight another dog to the death, and if it doesn't or doesn't win, is then drowned, or electrocuted, or shot at close range. Yeah...that's a lot like deer hunting.

Look. I get it. I know that a lot of African-Americans do not like dogs or fear them because there has been a long and sad history of dogs being used to torture and attack blacks going all the way back to the days of slavery. Still, does that justify cruelty to an innocent animal?

I believe that anyone who could do those things to an animal, would just as soon do it to a human. It's all just a matter of time. And I think it's a real shame that race has even been brought into the equation. This really has nothing to do with race, but a total lack of respect for life of any kind except his own on the part of Michael Vick.

Too bad the NAACP doesn't use its power for something or someone who actually deserves their efforts.

Authority Always Wins

Sometimes I just wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

I was a straight-A student in high school. A favorite of the teachers I loved. Some would have even called me a teacher's pet. But the ones I didn't like or respect? Oh boy!

I was the ringleader in getting our French teacher to quit my sophomore year because I hated her so much. I sassed her. Mocked her. Got in her face and yelled at her when she told my class that her three-year old spoke better French than we did. Laughed at her when she left the classroom in tears because we refused to listen to her. That, by the way, was the last time we ever saw her.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly proud of that. I'm just using it as an example of my disdain for authority when it's an authority I can't respect. One form of authority I have a very difficult time with is making rules for the sake of having rules or rules that don't make sense or which are applied broadly leaving no room for individuals to determine whether or not they need the rule.

This is a trait that does not serve me well. It is a trait that leads me to instantly distrust teachers, principals, and school adminstrators in general. I feel they're all out to make me and my child conform to their ideas of what is normal and appropriate while they destroy any spark of creativity that might arise in anyone around them.

I know. There are some awesome teachers who inspire creativity. I know many of them and admire them greatly. They're not usually the ones who become administrators. Sadly.

All this came up for me today when I tried to cross the circular driveway in front of my son's school in a crosswalk (thank you, very much). An 8-year old school patrol nazi stuck her stop sign in my face and yelled, You can't cross there!

But it's a crosswalk, I replied, looking inquisitive.

Well, you can't walk across there. It's not allowed.

Quite maturely, I responded Well, that's the stupidest rule I've ever heard of. Can't cross the street in a crosswalk!

Naturally, all this transpired in front of Brendan. Yay me! Setting such a fine example. And of course, in front of the sternest looking female priest (priestess?) I've ever seen. I've noticed her all week walking her kids in, wearing her priest collar, and thinking nice things about her because she's obviously a minister of some sort. Unless, of course, she gets off on impersonating an Episcopal priest, which is actually kind of funny.

Anyway, when I said that the rule was stupid and got frustrated because the crossing guard Nazi refused to let me cross the street, she turned around and glared at me. Seriously!

If looks could kill, I'd be down at the funeral home right now.

Priest! Phhhh! Hello? Human frailty? Obvious parent of a pre-K kid? Don't know the arbitrary insane rules yet because handbooks haven't been given out yet on the third day of school!

That actually bothered me more than the rule itself. I'm on a show-a-little-kindness kick right now and it's really frustrating to me when other people are critical of the people around them when they show human emotion. Which, I realize is hypocritical because that's all this woman did and just because she's a priest I shouldn't expect her to behave any differently than the rest of us and I'm sure she didn't like me questioning safety rules in front of her kids, but ya know, I'm human. I'm carrying a 22-lb baby and holding a 4-year old's hand and carrying his book bag and trying to take the shortest route into the school. I'm an adult who knows how to cross a street without getting hit. Hell, I managed to survive all my life without getting hit by a car and my schools never had crossing guards and I walked over a mile to and from school.

I guess, what I'm trying to say here, is that if you're going to walk around wearing a giant wooden cross around your neck, a priest's collar, and you claim to represent the Highest Authority Of All, you might try showing a little good will toward the rest of us fuck ups.

Maybe?

At least until we grow up and learn to accept earthly authority or at least county school board authority a bit more?

School Night

My baby's growing up.

Brendan began his life as a public school student today, entering pre-Kindergarten at our neighborhood school. Very exciting. And not nearly as sad as I thought it would be.

I think any sad or melancholy emotions I might have experienced were overshadowed by my concern for him attending public school instead of private school. I never thought it would be an issue for me. I'm the product of public school and I turned out fine.

Of course, the public schools I attended were in a small town with lots and lots of money for educating kids. Our schools were always safe, clean, and our teachers reliable.

Here? I don't know.

I swear a child is going to get lost in Brendan's classroom. Everyone assures me the teacher, though not great, loves the kids. But her classroom looks like a bomb went off. It's dirty, cluttered, and totally chaotic. I hate it. It's driving me nuts.

I feel like I'm being closed-minded somehow. The school has such a good reputation, but I just feel like he's going to get lost in the shuffle of it. It's so different than the sweet little private preschool he was going to.

After dropping him off today, I found myself hoping he'd start hanging around this particular group of kids who were, as I told Scott, destined to become the kind of kids I hated growing up. Rich, preppy, athletic, good-looking. Not the kids with whom I was hanging out. But they were the most easily identifiable group to me. None of the other kids seemed quite....with it somehow.

Nope. I was hanging with the freaks and geeks, rebels and smart kids. Not losers. But not the kids running the show either.

As much as I hated those kids and still disapprove of those sorts of people as adults, I find myself thinking life will be easier for Brendan if he gravitates toward those people. And then I hate myself for thinking that way.

I just have to hope and pray that he finds his own way and figures out who he is and then I have to love him and embrace him whether he turns out to be a brain, a jock, a criminal, or a basket case, or something in between.

Smothered in Hugs

I miss my mom.

She wasn't perfect and she didn't always get me. And she wasn't always there for me. But sometimes the hurt is so big, so overwhelming and there's no answer and nothing you can do. And when that happens, the only thing that helps is to put your head in your mother's lap and let the sobs rack your body while she brushes your hair with her fingertips.

I hurt like that today.

I need a mommy.

Meet Me in the Morning

I love the morning.

I love rising when the house is still and silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the entryway. I walk to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee in the half-dark, then sit and pray or meditate in quiet before the world breaks free.

I love looking out my living room window and watching dawn's warm and golden glow spread and dance across the dark nooks in our shady yard. The way the shimmering and dappled yellow light spreads and separates the darkness ever so gently and magnificently reminds me of hope. The hope of the new day, of new life, new opportunities.

Another chance to be the person I want to be. To become the person God wants me to be. To love my family and friends. To love the earth and all its inhabitants –– even the ones who test my capacity to love. To laugh and write and live and love. To embrace the beautiful and wonderful life I have been given.

These moments seem rare and fleeting these days. Moments when I can stop and breathe and be and simply appreciate this beauty. Any moment a bedroom door will be flung open and I will hear someone calling for "mommy," and so the mad dash through my day will begin.

What a wonderful gift to begin it this way.

Hear Me Lord

Last week I took Brendan to his pediatrician for a routine check-up. Our school district requires that every kid have hearing and vision tests before they start pre-K, so we were trying to get that taken care of since school begins in a few weeks.

Brendan did great on the vision test, but failed the hearing test in his left ear. The nurse administered the test three times and consistently got the same results. In his right ear, he heard all five beeps and responded appropriately. In his left ear, he responded only to the first beep. Based on these results and the fact that he said it hurt his left ear when she performed the test, his pediatrician decided to refer us to an audiologist at the Children's Hospital for more tests.

Coincidentally, we had noticed that Brendan has been turning his DVD player up to full volume when watching a video and he complains that music hurts his ears.

Now, I know that minor hearing loss in one ear while maintaining perfect hearing in the other ear is really not that big of a deal. But, as a parent, if your child doesn't have to go through something like that, ;you'd really rather they didn't have to.

So, all week between appointments, I prayed. And I believed. Believed and told myself out loud several times a day that it was a fluke. His hearing is perfect.

And it is. Thankfully. We spent about an hour in the audiologist's office yesterday while she performed tests to look at the structure of both his inner and outer ear and tested his range of hearing. He did great and his hearing and ears are perfect.

I couldn't be happier. But, I am curious as to whether or not the outcome would have been different if I had let myself believe the worst instead of the best.

Your Love is Like the Morning Sun

On our way home from the grocery this evening, Brendan shouts, "Look, Mommy! The sun is cracking the sky."

Sure enough, the heavy grey clouds had broken apart and the pale yellow sun was brightly and blindingly shining through. We talked about the sun for a minute and then Brendan asked if the sun was breaking up the clouds because it wasn't ready for bed yet. He then asked me if the sun had a mommy who made him go to bed.

I laughed and explained that the sun doesn't really go to bed and then explained how the Earth rotates and revolves around the sun, etc. So then, Brendan asked me if the Earth was the sun's mommy. He was laughing and knew he was joking, but I just thought it was kind of sweet somehow.

Flight of the Conchords Ep 3 Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros

If y'all have never watched the new HBO show Flight of the Conchords you really need to give it a go. It's seriously one of the funniest things I've seen in a long, long time.

I understand comparisons will be made to Tenacious D, but I find these cute kiwis much funnier, easier on the eye, and less offensive than the D.

Here's a song from episode 3, Mugger, of the series.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

I haven't written in over a week. One would think there might be a backlog of topics to cover and thus, I'd have no problem jumping back in. Sadly, for me anyway, that doesn't seem to be the case.

True, I've written hundreds of mental blog entries the last week or so. Most while I was in the shower. A few of them were even brilliant. Unfortunately, now that it's Saturday night and I'm home alone with two sleeping boys and have a chance to write, all those great ideas are swirling around in a massive jumble, each fighting to come to the forefront and make its way onto the blog. Now that I'm having difficulty separating the wheat from the chaff, I think I'll just tell you some of the things I might have written about or wanted to write about. Maybe, if I have a chance, I'll come back to one or more of these topics.

1. I've begun working with a wellness coach. She rocks. I love working out. I've never been an athlete, but I love making my body work. I feel great when I make my body perform and realize how strong and healthy I can be. What I really love about this woman is that she focuses as much on my attitude and mental state as she does my body. Cool. What's even cooler is that we're trading services. I'm going to help her with some marketing.

2. I've been thinking a lot about blogging in general. Why we blog. Who reads our blogs. Anonymous blogging versus putting yourself out there completely. For those of us who are in relationships and blog openly (there must be another term for this), how our partners and friends feel about our blogging. I have a few thoughts on this. I have been thinking about not blogging and wishing I had done this anonymously at times this week. Honestly, that probably has a lot to do with the ambivalence I've felt about my blog lately. I will defintely expand on this topic when I have time.

3. Our kitty was diagnosed this week with hyperthyroidism. He lost half his body weight since December, dropping from 11 lbs. to a mere five and a half pounds. Poor kitty boy. Mao (named for the fact that mao is a Chinese word for cat) is a sweet, sweet cat. The best cat I've ever had and I've had a few, including a pair named Bill and Hillary. Anyway, he's a real darling and I'm glad we found out what's wrong and that it's something fairly easy to treat. I was a little sad that we learned he's actually a good bit older than we thought. Probably 14 instead of 11.

4. Both boys have coughs and colds so this week has been more challenging than usual. Even though he's sick, Beckett is still an angel. He's fussier than usual, but still so sweet and barely any trouble at all. He hardly even complains even though he's clearly miserable. I'm a very lucky mama.

5. I know I've written about my MOMS Club before, but I'm really realizing that this group of women really has risen to the level of a true community of friends and family. In the two years that I have been a member, there have been at least five babies born. One friend lost her baby. Another friend, in the process of moving out of state, learned that her mother has breast cancer. One woman has had major surgery. Two have had cause to think their husbands were cheating on them. One lost her mother. One of my sons was hospitalized and I began suffering from a major bout of depression.

In the two years that I have been a member, we have lived Life, in all its rich, beautiful, and painful glory. And we have all been there for one another. Making dinners. Keeping each other's kids. Cleaning kitchens and doing laundry for each other. Suggesting babysitters and nannies. Holding hands, offering hugs, laughing, crying, sharing, and just being there.

For someone like me, with very little family, and none close at hand, it really means the world to know I am part of this group of women. Again, lucky mama. Lucky woman.

Well, alright then, y'all. I will expand and expound upon some or none of these topics later as I see fit. Of course, I am assuming that someone out there still gives a damn.

Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Politics

So, after not having written in a week or so – and on the eve of the anniversary of our nation's independence – I'm going to get (slightly) political on your ass.

Might I just ask, where is the outrage? I mean, the serious, impeach-this-guy's-ass outrage? I understand that the President has the power to commute sentences, to pardon his cronies, etc. But really? Commute the sentence of a guy who put the life of an agent defending this country at risk? Jeopardize any operation she's ever worked on and potentially the lives of other agents all because her husband pissed you off? Pissed you off because he told the truth? Seriously?

Scooter Libby deserves to be in jail. Never mind that Karl Rove and Dick Cheney should be there, too. Shouldn't there be a greater expression of outrage and defiance on the part of all the law abiding Americans who believe in truth, justice, and the American way? I mean, if you or I committed a crime, we'd have to serve our time.

I mean, it is seriously hard for me to believe that there was more discourse surrounding Clinton's blowjob than there is when that horrid little man we call the President uses his position of power to reward one of his cronies for ruining a decent person's life.

Angel Food

Jen has tagged me with a meme about food. Now, if you know me already, you probably know that I am not one of those fortunate few people in the world who eat to live. Although, it would be hard to describe me as someone who lives to eat either.

Food and I have a complicated relationship. I wish I could be one of those picky palates that hates most food, picks at my food barely eating any of it, but then can get away with eating fries and indulging in milkshakes. Sadly, that's not me. I love all kinds of fruits and vegetables and complicated dishes with fancy sauces and seafood and steaks and gooey desserts.

I enjoy good food and eschew food that doesn't live up to my standards when possible. Now that I have kids I find myself eating fast food way more often than I'd like, but sometimes you just have let the kids run wild in the Mickey D's Playland.

So, about this meme.... Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Include the state and country you live in.
3. List top five favorite local restaurants.
4. Tag five other people and let them know they’ve been tagged.

Okay. I'm in Atlanta, Georgia and I just have to say... Five? I only get to choose five? Not enough! But okay, I'll try. So, my top five local restaurants, in no particular order, are:

1. Prime – Yes, it's in a mall, but it's not anything like what you think a restaurant in a mall will be. It's excellent. Wonderful steaks and seafood. An attentive, if sometimes pretentious, waitstaff. The plank-grilled salmon served with spinach over cheese grits is to die for. If I had to choose a last meal, that might be it. They also have an extensive and impressive wine list.

2. Café Intermezzo – I never get to go here, but I adore this place. I've been going there since I was in college. My girlfriends and I used to go there for coffee and dessert to break the monotony of the dining hall. I think most people think of this as strictly a dessert bar, but their dinner menu is eclectic and very good. Lots of rich, delicious pastas and unusual sandwiches. They serve hand mixed Italian sodas, have a decent selection of wines, and a very impressive selection of expensive single malt Scotches. If you're into that sort of thing. Also, the most impressive and delectable selection of desserts in the city. And, oh yeah.... great coffee. I almost forgot. This place reeks of atmosphere. They play opera in the background and often show Italian movies on the wall in the main room by the bar. The patio is suspended in the air above a parking lot, but surrounded by trees. This would make a great place for a first date.

3. Frijoleros – Like so many of my favorite Atlanta hang-outs this place no longer exists. But I thought it deserved a spot on my list anyway. A tiny hole-in-the-wall burrito joint with an excellent green sauce, Frijoleros was on Peachtree next door to the now-also-non-existent Cotton Club. Really, truly, the best burritos in town. Hands down. All you fools who preferred Tortillas on Ponce were nuts. Nuts, I say. And I am constantly reminded of the time my sweet roommate told me about this great place her boyfriend took her called Free-joe-lah-ruhs. It took me an hour to figure out what she actually meant. It still makes me laugh out loud.

4. Dusty's – World class barbecue. I know there's no agreeing on styles among barbecue fanatics. I like mine shredded, smoky, with a good sweet, but slightly spicy sauce. On a bun. With a pickle. I also dig SC style mustard sauce, but there's none of that at Dusty's. Straight up pig with the standard sides. They also, oddly enough, make the BEST veggie burger in town. No joke. If you go there, look for the mural that Scott and his friend Mark have deemed Pig Heaven. Actually, if you follow the link, you can see it on their site.

5. Heaping Bowl and Brew – Just a soft spot in my heart for this place. It's the only place I've ever waited tables. My friend Todd Semrau started this place when he lived in East Atlanta. He believed in the potential of the neighborhood when everyone else thought he was a lunatic. When he opened the restaurant he couldn't afford to pay a waitstaff so his friends and family all pitched in to help. My friend Courtney and I waited tables together that night and I think combined we made $25 in tips which we split. Hands down the Bowl has the best sweet potato fries ever. Actually, this was the first place I ever heard of sweet potato fries.

Okay. Those are my five. I will tag Suzanne, Lindsay, Jeremy, A., and Rennratt.

Guitar Town

Scott's shows at Swallow at the Hollow went well. He was great. Mike, who sat in with him on the second set, was great. The room was great. The crowd...eh. It was a restaurant crowd with two parties of 30 people. A little noisy for an acoustic singer-songwriter.

Still, I think we got a few new fans on board with us and we learned a thing or two. At least I did.

I'm looking forward to booking a few more shows and trying to streamline our game a little. Overall, though, I'm pleased with how the performances have gone and where Scott is in the process. After just a few shows, he fell back into performing like a duck into water and seems as comfortable as one can be onstage.

Hopefully, Scott will put up the recording of the show on his site in a few days. If so, I'll link it if anyone wants to hear.

Heart of Mine

Sometimes Brendan just blows me away with his goodness and his creativity.

Even before the books said he was developmentally ready to show empathy, he expressed a gentle and caring spirit, ministering to the needs of our pets, asking me what was wrong if I seemed down, rubbing his dad's feet when his dad said he had a rough day, hugging friends who were upset. He has such a special ability to think about others and I love him all the more for it.

Today, he did the sweetest thing. Something so cute it hurt.

He built a slide – out of rocks – for the ants. How cute is that? Then, he went and got a leaf and put it at the bottom of his slide so the ants would have a soft place to land. He said he thought the ants needed something to play on so he made them a playground.

I love that imagination!

My kid rocks.