Food Is An Important Part of A Balanced Diet (F. Lebowitz)

So the husband said that I could not bring the camera into the one chef's establishment (forewarning: turn sound off/down) that beat the Iron Chef in one of his seven (only) defeats. I wanted to take pictures of the food and wine, not to mention us having a fabulous time, but the husband said with a shake of the head in objection, "no honey. You cannot do that" all stern-like. Flashback 20-years: as if I was standing before my dad and had just done something heinously wrong. . . . I felt like I should go to my room and realized I was already there. Anyway, that was that. I suppose, as usual, he was right. Again. Hmpf. [As a result, you are sadly missing out on some pretty, pretty food and you, unfortunately, will just have to use your imagination as to the presentation of it.]

Likewise, since access to the camera was denied, I made the husband take our picture at home. Before we left. Which means this bit of action from my end made us 5-minutes late for our 7:30 PM reservation.

. . . ahem . . . Oh. Like that's unusual.

Anyway, I can honestly say this, Chef Tim Love completely earned his title to beat Chef Masaharu Morimoto. I cannot even find the words as to how wonderful the cuisine at Lonesome Dove Bistro is. After a filling three course meal, which is made to order, as well as an impressive bottle of wine followed with spectacular chile-chocolate cake, the staff had to roll me out the front door to our waiting vehicle. I'm still full - it's now the next morning. I wish I could relate to you the exact name of all goodies consumed, but they were far more fancy-schmancy-pants than I can remember. Suffice it to say, in a teeny-tiny nutshell, I had spicy barbecue shrimp with spicy fruit salsa, yellow squash fraîche and for the main course deer filet's with white truffle mac & cheese and fried artichokes. My 7 readers, may believe that I ordered the main course for the meat. Alas I did not. I ordered the meal due to the mac & cheese. At a Western Gourmet Bistro.

It did not disappoint. I wanted to eat nothing else.

Finally, I unsuccessfully tried to get the husband to eat the mac & cheese, but he said he had plenty himself. In my usual pesky manner, I did not give up. The husband had to taste this most breathtaking, spectacular and astonishing truffled cheese covered noodles. He needed to. They were that great! He steadfastly refused. So, when I finally accomplished getting him to taste a wee little bit - with a wide opening of the eyes and a, "mmmmm! That's really good!" - my mac & cheese disappeared within 1-minute and 14.3-seconds. Gone. My bowl of mac & cheese. ***

Men. You got to love them.

Still, we had a lovely time with one another. As mentioned previously, the food and wine was stunningly remarkable. Absolutely delicious. I just wish every day could be anniversary day.




***Note to self: all mac & cheese from this day forward is mine, mine, mine! I shall not share. Ever.

A Bowling Match To Remember

me: so, honey, did you read my posting today?
the husband: yes. I did. *minding his own business*
me: what'd you think?
the husband: about what?
me: the camera?! *clapping hands with excitement*
the husband: WHAT??? *one should not purposefully stick their head into an alligators mouth*
me: shhhhhhhhhblptz! YOU don't get to talk! YOU who spends kagillions on bicycle stuff! And, . . .
the husband: okay. *defeated*
me: shhhhhhhhhblptz! . . . . YOU who spends megatillions on the Subaru STI! And. . .
the husband: I said OKAY! *knowing that Jaws awaits somewhere in the ocean*
me: I'm counting up all the money you've ever spent on this bike and car stuff and I want a diamond as big as . . . . *so there*
the husband: *shaking his head, grabs an ale and walks away laughing*

Can't Win For Losing

The husband and I have been blessed with a decent sized backyard. As a result we have loads of wildlife. Nothing of the coyote or mountain lion sorts, but lots of birds and rats with fuzzy tails. This is a great enjoyment to us and we do much to encourage visits, more so, permanent move-ins. However, I'm having a heck of a time catching said creatures on film. I took over 30 pictures yesterday and these are the only winners:

I continuously miss the greatest shots-that-even-National-Geographic-will-hire-me-for of all time! Or it's that I move to get the picture and the 50 different sorts of wildlife take flight in one big lift off. Yesterday, I was even crawling on my hands and knees in my house just to get shots through a window/screen that you see posted here. I'm not so good at this camera thing. Or it's my camera. Or both, because in my little head, it can't just be operator error. Seriously. I need help. So, I'm going to look for a new bright shiny camera as well as hunt for camouflage outfits. And not the bright orange please-don't-shoot-me either. Maybe even something along the lines of dressing as true shrubbage? The husband will be so excited! A new camera!

By the way, these are my heroes. They are going to catch those fuzzy tailed rats one of these days, if I only open the door. . . .

Your thoughts? Suggestions?

The Estimated Weight of the Earth is Six-Six Trillion Tons

I'm totally doing this.


. . . . and so should you.

A Precipitation in the Form of Ice Crystals

It's April 7 in this longhorn city. . . .

. . . and it's snowing right now.

The Husbands Very Own Paparazzi

Here is the husband doing something he told me not to take a picture of, but catching me in the very act of taking his picture anyway. You can tell just how much he truly loves me at this very moment.

Here is the husband eagerly and most excitedly awaiting in line for his time trial race.




Here is the husband catching me taking his picture, again.




Here is the husband riding across the finish line for the time trial.

This is all done in the name of love and fun! Fun with the digital. Love of the husband. Or maybe love of the digital and fun with the husband. Either way, I'm not too sure the husband finds my muse as fun as I do. But in the end, it's all about me and my shiny camera. Besides, he'll come to appreciate it someday. Even Courtney Cox has this to say about us paparazzi's, "There are times when paparazzi go too far. . . .Sometimes they get so competitive it’s dangerous, like “Who’s gonna get the shot?” It’s OK as long as it stays within limits. It’s OK to go to a restaurant and get your picture taken—you’re going out and you have to expect something. But when it gets invasive and they’re sitting outside your house, it’s gone too far. I’m kind of torn because I understand. Look, I don’t read those magazines. . . but don’t think I don’t look at the pictures to see what people are wearing. I “get” the fascination, but if I’m followed every time I leave my house? That’s too much." (shout out to PopSugar.com for the CC-A quote from LA Confidential)

If Mrs. Cox-Arquette can warm up to the pap's, so too will the husband. He definitely will.

Strike a Pose, Poser

I had to call my little sister, Sarah, this past Saturday morning.

I was out with the husband while he was pedaling away on his bicycle during another road race, when I noticed some pretty Texas flowers. I couldn't remember for the life of me how to take close up shots and it was the most important thing that I get a hold of my sister to tell me the deep dark secrets of my camera right then and there. This was an immediate attention matter of business.

You see, I had two buttons to chose from - one I called the MoFo button and the other was a picture of a flower. This choice may seem obvious, but in using both of them with equal amounts of shots and with none of these shots turning out, I became slightly befuddled. I needed the guidance of an expert. This is where the Saturday early morning phone call to the sister ensued.

I was promptly told by my younger sibling that the MF button does not stand for MoFo. It means "manual focus" which entirely makes sense. I was also told that I need to use the flower button if I am taking very close shots of something, but make sure I let the camera focus before pressing the shutter button . . . .

Sometimes I feel like a gorilla.

I seriously need to get more serious about taking a photography class as my sister isn't always available to pick up my immediately desperate phone calls on how to use my camera. Though, I have to say, her guidance is far easier and way faster than the 300+ page manual it came with and in all actuality an 8 week course. I may just stick to bugging her. It's payback for growing up together where I felt she was a serious pain to my popular quotient.