Stop Touching Things

"Miss! you can't touch the artwork..."
"He means you, too, G-ma"

Thursday, April 12, 2012


Bleepity bloop! Ima Nerd! Every time I say that my friend Mikey the Crooner says "oh yeah, that's nothin" and proceeds to out nerd me to such a staggering degree, that I run home crying looking for comfort in hipster elitism and elite foodie hips. He really is the biggest nerd I know and he proves it by rubbing it in all the time (SQL this beta nerd! I really hope that was an insult). Anyway. I'm feeling nerdy and... ermm, lazy, because I am attempting to blog from my phone. I'm doing this because I love space, technology, and doing things tucked in with a cozy blanket and pillow. I love my phone because it reminds me of Star Trek and living in the Space Age promised to us as children. No doubt it would be easier to type this on a laptop (do people even have desktops anymore), but this is way cooler, even though I don't know how to add a pic. I know that kids these days do this all the time, but I'm not really a kid, and plus I try to fix my spelling and grammar. I think that is really what makes me a nerd more than anything. Plus I'd rather do this than knit… So it turns out the future isn't to terrible for my generation. We get cool gadgets and Nerds and their ilk or strangely popular. Neither of which was true for me 20 years ago. Hail to the Space Age! Hail to Tang! (oh those things aren't around anymore? But the astronaughts drank it? No astronaughts anymore? Shit, I think we just hit Gen XYZ s future. Stupid grunge bands).

Thursday, February 16, 2012

What happened to the bran muffin?

Check out Chef Gaynols Bran Muffin Recipe
I remember the 1990s. Asymmetrical hair dos, flourescent green biker shorts, and biker caps worn askew. We were Fresh, like the prince of Bel Aire and when we felt like being healthy, we ate muffins That's right, muffins. Bran muffins to be exact. High in fiber, good for digestion, etc. the thing is, all that healthy mumbo jumbo ruined the bran muffin.

These days a muffin is an evil gluten sugar carbo bomb, not worthy of health food mention, and nary a bran muffin can be found. Have you ever had a bran muffin? A good one hot from the oven with butter melting into the crooks and crannys? One that is earthy and sweet with little bits of juicy sweet apple and raisins to surprise the palette with candy like glee? One that reminds you of the '90's, where you could get a bran muffin and not be looked at like you ordered the devil on a plate? I have.

Last month I came across a Perkins that still sold bran muffins and bought every single one they had left, and then when the waitress came and said she found more in the kitchen, I bought those too. I shared them with family and I got a migraine because they are made with evil wheat (which I have a "sensitivity too, must be because I'm an artist), but then my digestion was aided just like I remembered and all was good in the world.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Drinking Coffee since 1981

Check out this dudes landscapes made from coffee rings.
The G-Ma was a small town farming gal. There are stories of my grandparents sneaking across the border to Iowa to bring back Margerine in 10 lbs blocks. The dairy board had much influence in this state and margerine was illegal... but that's another post.  She served thick slices of tomato for lunch and coffee was always consumed hot and black.

When my sisters and I would visit, there was always the peculator going and the smell of coffee and cigarettes defined my childhood visits to Southern Minnesota.  She had the same coffee mugs my whole childhood. Thick brown mugs with tiny finger holes. These and two tiny white porcelain cups. Too large to be doll cups, and too finely made to be toys. Both these sets of mugs fascinated me during my childhood. The brown ones because of the thick glaze dripping from the the top. The feathery mixture of these mugs led me to start my own collection of Hull crockery.

Even more facinating were the tiny cups. To this day I do not know why she had these cups, or where she acquired them. My best guess is that they were espresso cups that she found a thrift store or garage sale. That in itself adds another layer of mystery. This was 'back in the day' people. What kind of farmers had espresso cups? They percolated their coffee for crying out loud... the worst possible way to make coffee.

If we pestered the G-ma enough, she would serve me or my sister or cousins what amounted to a 1/4 cup of bad midwestern coffee in these cups. My 6 year old brain could not figure out who would drink out of such small cups.

To this day I love coffee. Stong. Black. and in Small cups.