A collection of the sweet morsels in my life

It’s kind of not so great…

Posted on May 16, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I recently purchased Gwyneth Paltrow’s new book, “It’s All Good,” intrigued by the idea of healthier and cleaner eating. The book offers a lot of great information and recipes about eating diary-free and gluten-free. It also discusses healthier choices for fats and non-meat proteins. As someone with a sensitive stomach, I thought I might try out some of these ideas with my meals. Don’t get me wrong though, you won’t catch me eating tofu lettuce wraps any time soon/ever. Except that one time I made them for dinner at my parents’ house. I tried hard to sell them to my dad as a delightfully healthy alternative to beef tacos and he just wasn’t buying it. And neither was I. So I decided to apply my new way of thinking about eating to a fairly familiar food: pizza.

I headed to Dominos one evening a few weeks back. I went in and ordered a medium gluten-free pizza thinking that was the smallest size.

Dominos guy: “Oh we only have the gluten-free in a small.”

Me: “Ok perfect. How much will that be?”

Dominos guy: “11.99?”

Me: “Wow that seems expensive for a small…”

Dominos guy: “Well you can get a medium for 7.99!”

Me: “I thought you said the gluten-free crust only came in a small.”

Dominos guy: “Well it’s not really gluten free.”

Me: “What do you mean? Your gluten-free crust isn’t really gluten-free?”

Dominos guy: “Well if you ordered a medium it wouldn’t be. The medium is a better deal unless you need the gluten-free for health reasons.”

(DUH? Why else would I order gluten-free?)

Me: “I’ll take the small gluten-free, please.”

Verdict: The pizza was pretty terrible and expensive. I think I’ll stick to the real stuff and just eat it infrequently.

My next venture was speckled lima beans. I must admit that I usually make these with bacon grease and on this occasion I fully intended to make them that way; however, there was no bacon or bacon grease to be found in my refrigerator. Having carefully studied all of the critical pantry items for a dairy-free and gluten-free household, I had thought it was worthwhile to purchase a TUB of coconut oil at the wholesale club. Never mind that I only cook a few nights per week, I hate coconut, and I am the only one in the household that will be using the coconut oil. The 54oz tub was just the ticket.

Seeing the tub of coconut oil sitting on the counter, I decided to throw a few healthy spoonfuls in as my fat for the beans.

Boy was that a misstep.

I thought it would be a subtle taste, but no.

I threw in a halved onion and 2 cloves of garlic to try to mitigate the undesirable coconut flavor. It helped, but the coconut was still there in a big bad way. Bacon grease and coconut oil are not similar flavor profiles in case you were wondering.

Verdict: Good thing you can use this stuff as moisturizer. I’ll be smelling pretty tropical for the next 23.4 years or however long it takes me to saturate my skin with that tub of coconut oil.

Having failed miserably with savory options, I thought I might have better luck with something sweet.

Nope.

I found this recipe that sounded great for a gluten-free fudgy chocolate cake. How bad could that be?

BAD.

It looked so pretty, but underneath that icing lay a very strange tangy, cleaning solution-like aftertaste and a chewy texture much like an actual dish sponge (not to be confused with the lovely texture of sponge-cake).

It nearly ruined chocolate cake for me.

In an effort to stay positive and salvage the situation, I have been scraping off the naturally gluten-free chocolate icing and eating it by the spoonful. I now have a scalped cake in my refrigerator.

Verdict: There’s a reason people bake with wheat flour.

I’m hungry.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

North comes South: Part II

Posted on April 28, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Day 2 of my friend Blair’s visit was quite busy. We started off the day with a plan to hike part of the Natchez trace and suited up in several layers of athletic apparel to face the nippy wilderness. But first, we made a stop in downtown Franklin for a little retail therapy and sustenance. I took Blair to several of my favorite spots: Iron Gate, Gino, Philanthropy and Anthropology. Blair found a couple of cute pieces for Easter at Gino and then we decided a sweet treat was in order as delicious smells wafted over from the adjacent Meridee’s. I had a strawberry pastry that I intended to eat just half of, but before I knew it, it had disappeared on me. Blair got a cookie that I made a note to try sometime. And by sometime, I meant later that afternoon.

As we walked to the car to head on to the Natchez trace, I lost Blair. She was behind me one minute and as I went to unlock my Jeep and hop in, she was nowhere to be found. I circled the car only to find Blair trying to get into another car two spaces ahead of mine. We had a good laugh over that.

Our drive to the Natchez trace took us through the beautiful farms in Leiper’s Fork. I had never been over that way so it was an uncharted adventure for both me and Blair. We saw lots of different animals. Blair was particularly taken by the horses wearing “sweaters.” They were pretty darn cute.

Don’t let this clear, sunny sky fool you; it was about 45/50 degrees.

We arrived at the trail entrance and embarked on our hiking adventure a little leery of the heavily wooded/potentially creature filled path. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter anything questionable except a swampy patch and a little horse poo.

Not too far into our journey, we stumbled upon this beautiful view.

Selfie alert! Here we are at a large bluff along the trace. You can’t judge us because there was not a soul within miles who could have possibly taken our picture.

Limbo anyone?

I was very interested in the neat shadow patterns of the trees.

About 2 miles in, the trail opened up into this lovely lawn.

Lots of pretty wildflowers. Seeing this reminds me that I once suggested to my Dad that we turn part of my parents’ lawn into a meadow. It was a no-go.

We came across this memorial honoring the soldiers who traveled along the Natchez Trace during the war of 1812.

We hiked the trail for roughly 4-5 miles. Our pedometer seemed to be confused by our frequent elevation changes through the hills so our mileage was a little ambiguous. We weren’t terribly concerned about it. It was a nice hike and a nice chat and we were happy to have made it out of the wilderness alive.

It was 2:00PM by the time we wrapped up our hike and we were kind of hungry. Just a little ways down the road, we stopped in “downtown” Leiper’s Fork for some lunch. We first ventured into Puckett’s, which looked delicious, but neither of us was really in the mood for a rib-stickin’ meal of BBQ or meatloaf. I was craving a salad (a very rare occurrence for me) and Blair thought something a little bit lighter sounded good, too. We were about to head back to downtown Franklin when we spotted a little café. Perfect! We walked in the door and started reading what looked to be a lovely selection of salads, soups and sandwiches. The “host” greeted us with a very confused look on his face as he speculated, “Lunch?” Not knowing any other commonly accepted term for a mid-day meal, Blair and I responded, “Yes?” (duh?). He then informed us that the grills had been turned off. We said no worries; we were hoping for salads anyway. His frown deepened as he informed us that he wouldn’t be able to serve us salads either because apparently when the grill is shut down, this establishment that serves many things not prepared on a grill is paralyzed, and it is impossible to prepare anything edible for two hungry young ladies even though there were pre-packaged items staring at us in the refrigerated case in between us and Mr. No. We left a little miffed and happily noshed on salads and fried pickles at 55 South back in downtown Franklin.

We arrived back at my place mid-afternoon and inadvertently took a power nap while catching up on some March Madness. Then it was time to get ready for dinner. On to the next meal!

Blair loves sushi so I knew I had to take her to Virago at some point during her visit. Not only does it have great sushi, but it’s also one of my favorite restaurant designs in Nashville. Good lighting, not too loud, different dining formats, great use of texture, interesting crowd, prime location in the Gulch. It’s a pretty swanky spot.

We sat at the bar so we could watch basketball. After thoroughly reviewing the menu, we ordered sushi and drinks and settled in. I can’t explain it, but something possessed me to order a cocktail spiked with jalapeno. It was very interesting and mostly enjoyable until my sushi that contained sriracha entered the mix. It probably didn’t help matters that I also dunked each bite into soy sauce mixed with a sinus-clearing portion of wasabi. Towards the end of the meal I ordered a bowl of plain rice to counteract the inferno building in my mouth.

It was still a reasonable hour when we wrapped up dinner so we headed down the road to Patterson House, a throw-back speak-easy in Midtown. We ordered fancy, chemically-engineered, hand-crafted drinks. And doughnuts.

We got to talking to the bartender (as this is the south after all) about the concept of this establishment and how it reminded us of a “mixology”-type bar in Boston, called Drink. Much to our surprise, this bartender knew Drink because Patterson House had hosted several guest-bartenders from Drink recently. This world is impossibly small at times. We chatted with the bartended some more about her favorite places to eat in Nashville. She recommended City House and Rolf and Daughters, two places high on my list to try in Germantown. She also mentioned the Catbird seat, which is located directly above Patterson House. I made a note to check it out. Sadly, our new friend was moving to San Francisco in the near future, but it was nice to meet her.

And on that note, we concluded day 2 of our adventures.

Y’all hurry back,

Sugarlump

North comes South: Part I

Posted on April 14, 2013 by The Sugarlump

My good friend from college Blair came to visit me a few weeks back. She was my first non-family member Yankee visitor and it was her first time in the south. EVER. It was a pretty big deal.

I picked up Blair at the airport early Wednesday afternoon and went over some ideas of things to do and try out during her stay. Even though it was a little chilly (I’ll have you know it was 80 degrees the weekend prior), the afternoon she arrived was supposed to be the warmest of the days while she was here so I suggested we pack up a picnic and head out to Arrington Vineyards. I had never been before but had been told by many people that I should go if I had the chance. We packed up supplies in the largest beach tote known to man, picked up some cheese and olives at Whole Foods and headed on our merry way.

After a scenic drive away from the city, we arrived at Arrington Vineyards for our free wine tasting. Our server gave us his spiel, telling us we could try up to 8 different wines. I asked Blair how many she was going to try, to which she replied, “8! I’m on vacation!” I like the way she thinks. No wonder we’re friends.

We were both starving and decided to nosh on the cute little crackers offered at the tasting to cleanse the palate between wines. Blair referred to them as cracker pillows, because they did indeed look like pillows made out of a cracker. Our server agreed and we giggled about it for a good 5 minutes. For the record, this was before we had sampled any wine, which was unfortunate for Blair who tasted the crackers first. I asked her how they tasted as she chewed for an eternity.

“Very…dry. They make you thirsty. In a bad way.”

I tried one or four also and concluded that they were indeed the driest crackers I’d ever tasted. Who knew something so small and cute was capable of robbing your mouth of all moisture. Perhaps they should use them at the dentist instead of that terrible saliva sucker thing…

For the rest of the trip, Blair and I referred to anything or anyone who put a damper on things as a cracker pillow. As in, “Man, he was a real cracker pillow.”

Anyway, we tasted our 8 wines and decided on a bottle to purchase and enjoy with our picnic.

I went to the car to retrieve the picnic and as I walked back up to the porch, I got several comments on my monstrosity of a bag. It really does come in handy on such occasions.

We set up our spread and caught up for several hours as we enjoyed our wine and cheese. The sun began to set on the Vineyard and it was time to pack up and get ready to go downtown for dinner.

Normally, if I’m trying to ensure that my guests have a good time and/or trying to convince them to move to Nashville, I take them to places that I have been to and know are worth returning to. I hadn’t been to Arrington Vineyards, but that was a hit so I continued breaking my rules that evening by suggesting we try a new restaurant in town that I hadn’t yet been to.

We freshened up and headed downtown to The Row, which had just opened the week before. We arrived to a nearly empty restaurant and were seated in a booth in the corner under some very harsh, interrogation style lighting. We asked if they could maybe dim the light a little, which they couldn’t (poor lighting design) so we asked to move. We were re-seated in a very dark section and began to study the menu by candlelight. From one extreme to the other in the span of 30 feet.

The menu had lots of southern classics to choose from. I picked chicken fried chicken with cheese grits and bourbon sweet potatoes and Blair got the BBQ, brussel sprouts with bacon, and fries. What the restaurant lacked in atmosphere it sadly did not make up with its food. While it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t special. I know better than to order fried chicken with two grandmothers from Kentucky. Shame on me. I’m sure the restaurant would be more pleasant if it were full, but I’m not in a hurry to go back and neither is Blair, particularly if she has to come all the way from Boston. So maybe I should have quit while I was ahead with the blind adventures. Thankfully, Blair was willing to write off that one since we started off well at the Vineyard and had several days of pre-approved adventures ahead.

And that was just the first 8 hours.

Stay tuned for parts II & III.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Here to Stay

Posted on April 10, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Somehow, I have lived in Tennessee for a year. How did that happen?

This past Saturday marked the anniversary of completely uncharacteristic move 1100 miles south. In a way, it seems this year flew by, and yet living in Boston seems a long way back. I didn’t know a soul when I moved here, but of course I received a warm welcome. It is the south after all.

I’ve made many wonderful friends in the last 12 months. I’ve gotten to see my grandparents and extended family more than ever. I’ve discovered I like bluegrass. I’ve put 17,000 miles on my car. I’ve experienced a tornado warning. I’ve taken thousands of pictures of the sky. I haven’t done yoga once.

Words like “you’re fine” and “y’all” have become fixtures in my vocabulary. My style has become more eclectic and less preppy. Though it would be a serious stretch to call me an extrovert, I’m more outgoing and chatty than I used to be. I like to get out more.

I don’t have a TV in my room and I don’t miss it. I still haven’t bought bar stools so I don’t have a proper place to eat a meal. I cook maybe once or twice a week.

I’ve decided I’m not over the city living as much as I thought. I’ve stopped drinking soda. I like dogs more than I used to. I’ve been to the movie theater 3 times. I’ve canned jam.

I’ve learned more about what’s important to me and what’s not.

It feels like home here.

I think it’s time to take down this wreath.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Easter Eatin’

Posted on March 31, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Happy Easter, y’all!

I’ve been up to a lot lately that I will post about when I have some free time, which will be on the fifth of never. Just kidding. Kinda.

Even though these posts won’t be in chronological order, I thought I’d share my Easter while it’s fresh in my noggin. My dear little sister, Eugene drove down from Lexington, Kentucky to join me for the holiday. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas, which seems ridiculous since she lives only three and a half hours away. She arrived last evening and we went out to dinner at Germantown Café, which we had been to last summer for brunch. The brunch last year was fabulous and dinner certainly didn’t disappoint.

My friend and her sister joined us and we ordered two appetizers to share: pork belly tater tots and fried green tomatoes. I normally don’t like tomatoes but I didn’t mind choking these down one bit. They weren’t half-bad; in fact, they were more than half-good. The pork belly tater tots were slightly smoky, but not overwhelmingly so, which was good. I’m not a huge fan of smoky things, including cigarettes. They were very rich but quite tasty.

For my entrée, I had the fish special, which was a panko-crusted tilapia with a Puttanesca –like medley over parmesan polenta and asparagus. If there is ever a fish and grits/polenta dish offered at a restaurant, I will most likely order it. It’s one of my favorite combinations ever. This wasn’t the best I ever had, but it certainly hit the spot.

We moved on to Holland House for drinks/dessert. I ordered a drink on our waiter’s recommendation that wasn’t on the menu. I don’t recall the name, but it was a bourbon-based concoction that tasted like fall in a tumbler. Fall is my favorite season and bourbon is my poison, so I definitely enjoyed it. It didn’t hurt that Holland House is such a neat scene with its dim-lighting and parlor-like feel with just the right balance of rustic and refined décor. Initially I had wanted to sit at the bar to people watch and observe the theatrics of the bartenders making their artisan cocktails, but it worked out that we were seated by the fireplace since it was a cold, rainy night. We ordered dessert to finish off the evening. My sister and I split a flourless chocolate cake with a scoop of homemade carrot cake ice cream. The dessert wasn’t as spectacular as the drinks, but all in all, it was a fun evening.

After church this morning, my sister and I headed over to Pancake Pantry, which I have been wanting to try since I moved here. I was forewarned that there would be a line down the sidewalk and today was no exception. Poor Eugene toughed it out in the rain with me, each of us with a malfunctioning umbrella and no outerwear, for about 45 minutes. Thankfully, the food was worth the wait otherwise I think she would have killed me. She ordered pecan pancakes and I ordered chocolate chip. We also rounded out the meal with an order of sausage patties and hash browns. The pancakes were superb and the sausage was the good stuff. The hash browns, while good, were clearly crisped up on the griddle with Parkay margarine. I know this because Parkay has a very distinct flavor which I first experienced as a child when I insisted we purchase the Parkay spray margarine I had seen on TV because it looked like fun to use. It is not tasty and I’m going to have to dock Pancake Pantry a few points for this faux pas. They have a good thing going with their pancakes with whipped butter, though.

In my typical fashion, the visit was centered around food. Eugene didn’t seem to mind and I didn’t have to cook. Not that I mind cooking, but I still don’t have barstools so there isn’t a proper place to sit and eat a meal in my apartment. I’m working on it though. Thank goodness Nashville has a lot of great restaurants.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

One Year Sweeter

Posted on March 18, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Today is the one year anniversary of the Sugarlump, which means I have lived in Nashville for almost one year. Man, does time fly. I have a few reflections to share on this momentous day:

While I started this blog mainly to capture moments of my life that I never want to forget, it has proven to be so much more. It eased me through the transition to my new home. It has kept me connected to my family and friends who regularly read the Sugarlump and comment. In turn, it assures them that I am alive and well. Some of my extended family members and family friends have probably learned more about me through reading my blog this past year than they had learned about me in all the years they’ve known me combined. Whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. I’m just putting it all out there.

Most surprisingly, The Sugarlump has connected me to new friends who I know only because they have found my blog or I have found theirs. Who knew complete strangers would take the time to leave a kind note or helpful tips? This blog regularly reassures me that this world is indeed full of good people.

This blog has given me the motivation to learn more about photography as it provides a great outlet through which to share the thousands of photographs I have taken since moving to Nashville. I apologize to my readers who don’t care for cats or weather reporting. I hope to get out more this summer.

Though I am generally journaling-averse, writing posts has been a kind of therapy for me. It helps me to find joy in the little things as I reflect on my day. It puts things into perspective. It keeps me connected in a more meaningful way. I never would have thought I’d call myself a blogger, but a blogger I have become.

And even though I have slacked off on the blogging as my life has become busier in Nashville, I hope to continue celebrating blog anniversaries.

Thanks to my faithful readers for all of your “likes” and comments. You make my day.

Love y’all,

Sugarlump

Tax Avoidance (Not Evasion)

Posted on March 6, 2013 by The Sugarlump

It’s funny how, when faced with doing your taxes, vacuuming the sofa and ironing your socks become wildly appealing activities. Suddenly, tackling that oil painting for my living room that I’ve been putting off since I moved in 11 months ago seems very urgent. Brushing the cats’ teeth and cleaning out that “catch-all” basket of receipts, screw-drivers, lotion samples, paperclips and nail polish is just too hard to resist.

Doing my taxes really isn’t all that bad. Because I own a business, I have an accountant who sends me a really nice tax organizer that makes the experience as painless and straight-forward as possible. Every year, after I complete the document to return to her, I remark on how surprisingly simple it was. And every year, I put off doing my taxes because something about it makes me want to do just about anything else. I can’t explain it.

Today, instead of doing my taxes, I’ve done 4 loads of laundry and 1 load of dishes. I’ve vacuumed, changed the sheets on my bed, rearranged the furniture and cleaned out the refrigerator. Then I happened to find myself at Homegoods where I purchased 2 mirrors that were not the size I needed, but I had to have them. Consequently, I have spent the last hour re-hanging everything on the walls in my apartment to accommodate said purchases.

At least I will have a fresh environment in which to do my taxes…whenever that may be.

Off to French-braid Scarlett’s fur. Doesn’t she look excited.

Y’all be responsible,

Sugarlump

A Very Costly 46 Cents

Posted on March 4, 2013 by The Sugarlump

I’d like to start by saying that I pay most of my bills online as this is my preference for the sake of efficiency, peace of mind and instant gratification. Two of my utility companies, however, are stuck in the previous century and charge a fee of roughly 10% of my bill to accept payment electronically. I refuse to pay this outrageous fee given it is significantly higher than the cost of a stamp (even though postage has gone up).

As I went to pay my two paper bills by check (quick poll: how long do you think before checks are obsolete?), I realized I only had one stamp. No problem, I would stop at the mail center store just down the road from my apartment when I was out running errands.

I pulled into the parking lot for the mail center store toward the end of the day only to find that the store had gone out of business in the month since I had been there last. If only I had to pay more bills by mail so I could have kept them in business. It sure was a handy location.

The bills sat in my car for the next few days as a reminder to buy stamps at a less convenient location.

On my lunch break a few days ago, I headed out to McDonald’s for some McNuggets. I’d had McDonald’s on the brain ever since one of my coworkers ate a sausage biscuit in front of me as my stomach growled, unsatisfied with the oatmeal and blueberries I’d had for breakfast. Feeling slightly guilty for straying from my healthy choices, I asked if anyone else wanted anything from McDonald’s. My pregnant boss asked for a medium order of fries.

I went through the drive-thru and headed back toward the office. When I was almost there, I happened to glance down and notice my bills in the center console. I figured I might as well stop off and get some stamps while I was out, so I made a U-turn and drove to Fedex Kinko’s. I waited at the counter for about 5 minutes as the 3 employees decided not to pay attention to me. When one finally came over, he told me that they don’t sell stamps but the Walgreens across the street does. So I hopped back in the car and drove over to Walgreens.

I arrived at Walgreens to utter chaos. There were two checkout lines, both manned by people who seemed to have the opposite of a sense of urgency despite the fact that there were about 10 people in line. I waited in line for nearly 10 minutes as the cashier studied each of the purchases of the people ahead of me. I was delighted to wait in line on this dreary, raw day as the young boy in front of me, wearing basketball shorts and no coat, proceeded to cough up a lung.

I finally made it through the line and asked the cashier where the nearest mailbox was. The woman behind me in line suggested I take my bills to Fedex Kinko’s just across the street.

So I headed BACK to Fedex Kinko’s. A line had formed and the staff seemed flustered. Seeing a box that said “outgoing packages,” I walked up to the desk and asked one of the employees if she would kindly just toss my bills in the “outgoing packages” box. She proceeded to tell me that they don’t take regular mail, but there is a mailbox in the shopping center down the road. Just fabulous.

I headed down the road to the mailbox and dropped off my very irritating bills. I probably wasted at least a gallon of gas and 30 minutes on this adventure for a stamp. And by the time I got back to work, I had only room temperature French fries to present to a pregnant lady. It might have been worth that online fee after all.

Continuing my brilliant success at life, yesterday, I vacuumed up my phone charger.

Y’all be smart,

Sugarlump

Jailbreak

Posted on February 16, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Until recently, I had left Gus and Scarlet in my bedroom suite when out of the house so that I did not return to find them patrolling the top of the upper cabinets in my kitchen. I’ve heard that animals like to be somewhat confined anyway. Maybe somebody feeling guilty about leaving his/her animals in a small space made that up, but I was going with it. My cats had all of my bedroom, hall and bathroom to roam and they had all the food they could eat, water they could drink and litter box they could…well you know what I mean. They were all set.

Imagine my surprise one night when I come home from work and am greeted at the front door by two 15” tall furry creatures eager to see the world beyond the front door. I quickly closed the door and stood there for a minute, amazed that they could have gotten out. I have small French doors that must be very forcefully pulled open and closed for the spring to lock. How a 13 pound cat without thumbs or considerable muscle mass can open a door I struggle with on a daily basis is beyond me. I thought maybe this was just a fluke and that perhaps I hadn’t closed the doors all the way. But lo and behold, the next day, I was again welcomed home/hounded for food at the front door.

When my parents were here a couple of weeks back, we decided to run an experiment to see how long it takes them to get the door open. I closed the cats in my bedroom and headed out to work, leaving my mom in the living room. My mom texted me not 20 minutes later that she had company. Those little rascals.

I also used to close my bedroom suite a night to keep the cats from standing on the stove and potentially scorching a tail or two. In the middle of the night after the first few daytime escapes, I would hear the rattling of the door and then all of the sudden a click sound as the spring released and the door opened.

Turns out Miss Scarlett is the brains and the brawn of this operation. Gus doesn’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.

I have relented and let them roam the place as they please when I am gone now. Although the other night, I had my hands full of groceries as I walked in the door and little Mr. Gus waltzed right out into the breezeway. I shuffled groceries at lightning speed and grabbed Gus by the tail to drag him back inside. I almost had a heart attack because there would be no catching that little booger if he got out and were beyond my reach. Ever since, I stick my foot in the door first and Gus has learned not to stand so close. In fact, the novelty is beginning to wear off and there are times Gus and Scarlett decide it’s not worth their energy to get up from their cozy perches to welcome me home.

I’m slowly losing control.

Y’all send reinforcement,

Sugarlump

No Mo’ Nemo

Posted on February 10, 2013 by The Sugarlump

Cabin fever has set in. We have watched far more of the weather news that I would recommend, cooked and baked (and consequently overindulged), played multiple games of scrabble, blogged, edited pictures, watched several basketball games and a movie in the past 24 hours. The travel ban is lifting in 4 minutes as I write this and I couldn’t be more excited about dining out this evening.

Since I was confined to the house, I thought I might as well track the progress of the storm. Here is my coverage of the storm (on a 24-48 hour delay):

Backyard around noon Friday.

Front yard around noon Friday.

Backyard about 2 hours later.

Front yard about 2 hours later.

The deck around 2PM Friday. Keep this image of the overturned table handy.

A backyard-deck combo around 2PM Friday. I was getting a little carried away. There was nothing else to do.

Front yard around 4PM Friday, just as the travel ban took effect. I don’t remember ever being under a travel ban before. It makes you really want to travel.

Backyard around 4PM Friday. The snow was beginning to bury things.

The kitchen island around 4PM Friday. Time for some wine and cheese.

I also made some German chocolate bourbon pecan pie bars. I’ll post about those later.

Back to the snow coverage (day 2):

Approximately 9AM Saturday morning. We had officially been snowed in. Travel ban still in effect as snow removal teams tried to clear roadways.

Front yard Saturday morning. There is an Adirondack chair under all of that snow somewhere. Anyone feel like a cup of coffee on the front patio?

Winter wonderland.

The deck was almost completely filled in.

The front walk/tunnel midday on Saturday as the snow tapered off.

No amount of snow will keep my family from grilling. The first thing my dad did outside was shovel a path on the deck in case we needed some steaks for dinner. Those are the table legs sticking out of the snow.

As I mentioned, the travel ban was lifted at 4PM on Saturday, so we ended up going out to dinner. The highways had been salted and were almost completely clear of snow. Some of the back roads and smaller roads in the city were still quite snowy, but that didn’t stop us. Here we are exiting the restaurant. The snow was up to the top of the parking meters. Karma for the cranky meter maids if you ask me.

Y’all be careful,

Sugarlump

A collection of the sweet morsels in my life

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