Where Are Y'all?

Am I boring now that I'm an old wedded woman, or is everyone just on vacation? Anyway, I'll tell you the awful joke that has kept me giggling lately: Why does a Chicken Coop only have two doors?

Answer in the Comments section!

Bye!

Garden Parties

Last week's housewarming was fun - not to mention educational. We had about 65 of our favorite people over - And I spent the first two hours walking people around the house, before I ran into something brilliant... Friends I had given the tour to were taking up the slack and giving tours. It was great. I thought, "Hmmmm." So I started sending people upstairs on their own, telling them, "look inside any open door..." It was great. It left me a minute to actually go into the back yard and see who was there...

Note. I have to tell you that I like nothing more than entertaining in my home... But when there are a ton of people, I have what I call "Host Anxiety." What happens is I flit - I try to take care of the pressing needs like "Kelly, where's the beer?" "Kelly, Can you show me the Love Shack?" "Kelly, What's up with Dave?" Things like that... (Incidentally, Dave got paged and actually had to leave his own party to go fix something at work. He wasn't supposed to have the pager - but his boss had to go to a conference, so he got it...) (Poor Dave - but thankfully, he was only gone an hour)

Back to me - and my hostess anxiety. I find that when I"m in the midst of a bunch of people who don't necessarily know each other, I have to make sure they know they have things in common, so I introduce them like this. "Hi, Alex, this is Judy. She works at the golf club where we held our last corporate dinner..." "Hi, Terry, this is Dan. You two have been married for fifteen years..." "Hi, Jill, this is Carolyn. We all have the same trainer..." Things like that. The problem is, I invited a lot of people that I haven't been able to spend much time with lately... so it was kind of hard not to be able to sit with them for awhile... But a good hostess flits, so flit I did...

One of my guests had given me a lilac to plant in my backyard. I was excited to tell her that it was doing well, so I brought her to the place in the yard that I planted it... My mistake was not telling Dave I planted a lilac in the yard. Despite the fact that I'm fairly certain he'd watched me water it on occasion, he actually broke it off, thinking it was one of those pesky black walnut trees that grow wildly around... All that was left was about two feet of branch sticking out of the yard. It was kind of embarassing.

Donna was gracious though, and simply said, "Mine didn't make it either." Yeah, I thought, "Yours died a peaceful death. MINE WAS MURDERED!!!!

Ok. So I've come up with a short list of things I believe would make me have less hostess anxiety.

1) Less people. I think I would rather host a party of ten where I can spend more time with people and less time managing beverages.

2) Get organized. For this party, all I said was, "I'm providing burgers, dogs, wine, and beer. Bring a snack to share." I have more bags of half eaten chips than anyone I know. It's CarbFest at Kell's...

3) Kids. I may do a no-kids-party next time. All I can say is that I thought I was doing well. I put a DVD on, and left, only to find the strangest series of reprogrammed satellite issues... I had to reload the satellite software the other night, and I'm pretty sure I'm recording the next twelve seasons of "Fairly Odd Parents..." sigh.

That's all I can think of for now - Do you guys have any advice for this budding Martha Stewart?

One Way

My friend, Christopher took this cool wedding shot. Clearly one of the more creative wedding dresses I've ever seen...

The Glass Is Half Empty

Dave and I stopped for dinner on our way home last night - We sat at the bar because we needed to drop off a demo cd for the band. We got to chatting with the bartenders. One was a friendly lady. The other was a man who seemed nice - but really really efficient. He skirted from one end of the bar to the other. He filled an order that the other bartender had already taken, but wasn't finished with yet... You know the type.

The restaurant's owner was also skirting around - from upstairs to down - back to front. It was a busy night.

The male bartender filled an order for a glass of red wine and two mixed drinks. He left them at the bar and skirted somewhere else. The server came up to retrieve the drinks and said to the female bartender, "Can you put a little more wine in that glass? I don't think it's full enough."

The bartender looked, just as the guy bartender skirted past. "It's fine!" he committed... and kept going.

The female bartender simply opened another bottle of the same wine, looked at me and asked, "Do you think that's enough?"

Well, the glass WAS half empty. I suggested a little more might be nice.

She added to the glass. "I always get in trouble for adding too much alcohol... My boss says that if we only give them a little, they'll buy another."

"Do you weigh your bottles at the end of the shift?" I asked.

"Not here, we don't." she said.

Oh. That's interesting, isn't it? Underprovide to over sell. I swear that from now on, I will order only bottled drinks from that restaurant!!! (although my personal martini was fine). If an establishment is going to do that, shouldn't they just use smaller glasses? Or etch a line somewhere that says "FILL LINE" like they do at the coffee places?

The other bartender looked on from the end of the bar, then disappeared. Dave and I paid our tab and left.

The male bartender was near the door as we passed. He was talking to the owner, "I keep talking to her about portion control... but she's not listening..."

Wow.

Love Shack Locked

I'm just going to tell you - with as little embellishment as possible, what happened tonight. Dave and I came back from an errand - and saw two teenagers making out in the alley behind our barn... We also saw the guys who rent the garage across from the barn working on their car. We parked - and went in the house.

Moments later, someone knocked at the door. It was the one of the guys from the garage:

Guy: You guys own the barn out back, right?

Dave: Yeah

Guy: Did you see those two kids in the alley?

Dave: Yeah.

Guy: Well, they just went in your barn.

Dave: How'd they get in?

NOTE: Dave put padlocks on the barn because the barn isn't safe. The foundation is bad, the beams are bad, the supports are bad, the floors are bad. Truth? We are planning on knocking it down someday - because it's been standing without proper care since the Civil War... For real. The barn is old - and ready to go - we just haven't knocked it down yet because we needed somewhere to store our lawn mower.

Kelly: I'm sure they could bend a board and get in. Let's go see 'em.

Dave: They can't be in there! It's not safe.

Dave, Kelly, and Garage Guy walk out to the barn. What we didn't realize is that we only locked one side of a two-sided sliding door. The other side was apparently open for business and slid open. Here's where I love Dave.

He knocked. On OUR barn. He respected the little trespassers enough to give them a minute.

Dave: Kids! Come on out. This isn't a place for you...

Dave opens the door to hear a very meek voice:

Voice: Ok. We're coming.

I reach in and turn the light on. No kids. Those two dopes actually climbed steps in the dark - steps that shouldn't be stepped on to get upstairs to be alone during the DAY... This is unbelievable to me - because the floor is very bad, I can easily picture two over excited teens falling through- And it made me a little bit angry - in a very protective way...

So - the mother-in-me takes over, walks to the steps and turns the upstairs lights on.

Kelly, calling up the stairs: Come on. Let's go.

Voice: Ok. We're coming.

Down come the two lovebirds - a very sheepish girl, and the big old lug of a disrespectful boy - one who can't think to show a lady a better time than sneaking into a dilapidated lawn mower holder. (sorry - I know I promised no embellishment)

Kelly (voice raising): Okay. One. This barn isn't safe for people. Two. It's not yours. Three - if I see you hanging around in here again, I'm calling the police.

At this point, the voice actually bowed - like an Asian bow. Right in front of me.

Voice: Thank you for your understanding.

Kelly: I don't understand shit. Now get out of here.

Here's where you've gotta love Dave. After the excitement was over, we thanked the guys in the garage, and walked back to the house...

Dave: That's so sad. That girl. She was so embarassed. Did you see how she walked out of there, all slung over? She looked like she was my daughter's age... What kind of guy would take a girl up to a dirty old barn?

So, as of tomorrow, The Love Shack is closed for business. We're getting another lock.

House Photos

Dunkin Donuts Orange No More... Here's the dining room - in the midst of repainting... I'll get some finished photos for you soon - but these will have to do for now. The terra cotta shades around the windows and doors are the new paint colors.

Ok. Here are some photos of my beautiful cherry Tree - and Dave enjoying said tree... The blossoms didn't last long - but they were lovely:

Harmless Crushes

When it became clear that Dave and I were feeling serious about each other, I remember giving him this piece of advice - as it was true. "Honey, if Willem Dafoe knocks on the door, and asks if I'll run off with him, I hate to tell you this - but I'm going to go. I've known him longer, and it's only fair."

Dave nodded solemnly in agreement.

I asked, "Do you have any crushes I should know about?"

Dave admitted he had a thing for Natalie Wood and the Lovely Jean Simmons - but due to their deaths, he felt I had nothing to worry about.

So - our relationship continued, and we got married. Today, if Willem would happen to show up (I know - most of you probably think I'm nutty for crushing on Willem Dafoe, and all I can say is - he's amazing. He's one of the coolest character actors EVER, he's amazing on stage, and ever since I realized I was standing next to Willem at a John Cale concert in NYC, I've had a big crush.) Anyway, if WD showed up at the door today, I'd tell him he didn't ask soon enough - and even though I'd have to turn him down, I'd assure him that we'd always have John Cale.

Dave, in the meantime, remains without a living crush (unless I count as one.)

So. Dave and I moved to our new house, right? Well, in our little town, most of the drinking establishments are private, members only clubs. They have saucy little names like "Club 413," and "Elks," and "The Firehouse." I'm told one can't get in without a reference, so if we want a gin and tonic, and are out of tonic at home, we have limited choices of establishment to patronize. There's a pizza place across the way - but it's always mad-packed with The Twenties... There's another restaurant - on the upscale side - that has a bar, so one night - we went there. We walked in and sat at the bar. Immediately, the most adorably-yet-ruggedly-handsome-cuter-than-the-cutest-cutie-of-a-bartender asked us what we wanted to drink. We ordered. He went away to concoct. I looked around. The bar - just as I suspected - was full of women.

"Dave," I said. "Do you know why these women are here?"

"Thirsty?" he asked

"Nope. It's because of HIM." I motioned toward the bartender.

"Why? Is he good looking?"

"Oh, dear, yes!" I answered truthfully.

"Do you have a crush?" he asked

"Yes, but I don't want any information. I don't even want to know his name. I don't want to know if he's NICE... and I'm still going home with you, no matter what." I informed my husband.

Well, now I've got two harmless crushes to Dave's NONE... so I guess I'm going to either have to start going to the crowded pizza place full of kids, or get Dave a harmless crush... It might not be easy. I'm awfully cute.

Do any of you have harmless crushes? I need to hear about them!

It's Dave's Birthday!

So if you see him, tell him to have a nice day!

Singing Praise - And Otherwise

The great thing about marriage is that two people can honestly say (or sing) what’s on their minds, without fear of judgement (but not comment). What I mean is - the other night, Dave and I were sitting in our backyard. He was assembling our new grill. Come to think of it, I was actually the only one sitting.

I was singing my own lyrics to “The Hallelujah Chorus” – which I’m afraid to admit, I do rather frequently… This practice began when my friend, Mark and I used to leave messages on each other’s answering machines. I’d hear the Beep and sing “Mark, Mark, Bo Bark, Banana Fannah Fo-Fark, Me, my, Mo-mum, Ark… Mark!” Then he’d call me back and sing, “Kell-Bop ba-doot, ba-doot, ba-doot, Kell-Bop – Where the hell is Kell-Bop? Ba-doot, ba-doot, ba-doot, Kell-Bop, woah, woah!…” I called him back and sang “Mark-A-Lu-Jah, Mark-A-Lujah, Mark-A-Lujah, Mark-A-Luuu-hooo-oooh – Jah!”

Then I became amazed at how many people’s names could be made more fun – if only sung to the Hallelujah Chorus… I even found myself in Haiti – singing to our housekeeper’s son, “Rolf-a-lu-yah!” It’s quite possible that the kid had never heard the song, and perhaps didn’t even knew who Handel was – but he was very polite – and I’m sure thought his name sounded great in song…

I might even change my last name to LUYAH – Kelly Luyah. If I changed my first name to “Holly,” well then….

Anyway – back in the yard, Dave was entering into the spirit of the song… and sang about a guy he isn’t very fond of (can’t remember who – or why…) – “He’s a jerk-wad, and a something – and a blah blah, Hallelujah!” And then, he mindlessly sang a little tag “Asshole…”– like one might sing “Amen” at the end of the Doxology…. And without a beat, continued bolting the grill together, not thinking anything of it. When I told him what he’d done, we laughed forever…

We now walk around the house, punctuating every sentence with a phrase that I’m praying the neighbors never hear…. “Assholeeeeeeee…..”