A kitchen miracle

This is not one of those buy this product and we promise you'll never have to do dishes again.

But wouldn't THAT be awesome.

It's much simpler. And a teeny bit ridiculous that something so simple took three years to accomplish.

It has to do with my growing cookbook collection and the need to put them somewhere.

I used to have my cookbooks piled up in the kitchen on top of the microwave, and on top of our sideboard. It made me crazy how messy they were. I wanted a shelf.

(This picture was taken a few years ago before they took over the top of the microwave.)

We looked for a shelf at West Elm. Didn't find one. But we did find a nice looking teeny weeny mantle for our fireplace. Great. What about my cookbooks?

A year passes by......

I wanted one of those cool streamlined shelves that look really modern and seem-less. But Don insisted it wouldn't be strong enough for all the books. And he's right.

So, another year passes by.......

Finally I decided to see what I could find at the Container Store. I picked up a shelf that had a wire brace. But when we held it up to the wall it didn't look right. So I took it back to the Container store.

And another year passed by......and my cookbook collection continued to grow.

Finally a few Sunday's ago I decided that I was done waiting. So I grabbed some stuff we had stashed in a closet - a shelf, two brackets, and screws. It was supposed to be for Elli's closet. But since I high-jacked her closet we never installed it.

The shelf length is perfect and the brackets are strong enough. Don thinks there should be three brackets, I have two. I don't care. We're putting it up with two brackets. And before Don knows it he's drilling holes and installing my shelf. FINALLY.

TA DA!!!!!

Let me tell you. It's awesome. I love, love, love it. I don't know why, but I feel like my kitchen is ten times bigger and the ceiling taller. Strange, I know. It's added height to the room somehow. And air below. Elli thinks I've gone a little cuckoo over my shelf.

Whatevs. I'm much happier in my our little kitchen space. It's amazing what a little shelf will do. And if I ever decide to make home-made spaghetti I can put a rod on the brackets and dry pasta. How 'bout that?

Managing chaos.

 As in, "Oh no. Oli the parking attendant is gone. Fired."

"What? Who?" you're asking yourself.

Oli managed the parking garage where I park for work. I work in San Francisco where parking can be really challenging. I'm lucky I get to park my car in the same garage every day. It's in a condo building next door to my office. Most of the tenants work, so it frees up spaces for all the nearby businesses during the day.
 

That's my window!

Oli (pronounced Oh lee) knew exactly where every car should go. He piled them in. And treated them with TLC. He hardly ever took a day off and when he did it was never good. No one could park the cars with such efficiency. We were always happy when he was back.

And now he's gone and the parking garage is an unorganized mess. Cars are everywhere. They're piled in the wrong order. They're all over the place. It doesn't give you much comfort when you leave your car to someone creating such chaos.

They say he helped himself to some of the cash. I don't know. Maybe it's true. But I find it hard to believe. He seemed to really like his job. And from my point of view, he did it really well.

When I first started here over four years ago Oli was a little mean. I didn't know his "rules." The only way to keep a busy parking garage organized like a puzzle is with rules. I needed a manual.

When he asks what time you're leaving he really wants to you tell him. Because that's how he figures out where all the cars go. And you better give him the heads up if you have to leave in the middle of the day. Or you can forget about getting your car out. He will force the "no in and out" rule on you if you don't communicate with him.  And when he says park in the middle row far left he meant far left. You better put your car as far to the left as humanly possible. Because he's going to squeeze three cars in there where you think it should fit two.

I quickly learned his rules and he was very pleasant to me after that. He always seemed to be friendly with the other customers and tenants too.

So it made me kind of sad to hear that he was gone. And that I didn't get to say goodbye.

I'll be gone from my job at H/L in a week or so anyway. But I'll get to say goodbye to everyone.

So Oli, if by some odd chance you happen to find my blog, "Good bye my friend. I wish you well. Elli says good bye, too."

Are you an early, on time, or late kind of person?

I'm an arrive on time, or just a titch early sort of gal. Or at least that's what I strive to be.

For client meetings I always plan arriving early. Mainly because the stress of driving fast, parking, etc is too much. It's better to give yourself few extra minutes.  I had a client once say that if you show up exactly on time than you're late. He was a cranky old chap. And that's putting it nicely.

My husband has a tendency to run late.  We'll be getting ready to go to a party, I'm dressed, purse in hand, and he finally jumps in the shower. Grrrr. It makes me crazy. "WE"RE GOING TO BE LATE!!" I mutter under my breathe, but loud enough that he can hear.

I think he doesn't want to risk being the first one there. That would mean a lot of focused small talk. If you're mixed in a crowd you can become invisible.

What kind of person are you?

Bentley's, Mercedes and Pipes. Oh my.

Today is going to be one of those days. I can just feel it. It's already been a little strange. Most of it has nothing to do with me. But I can feel it in my gut. Something is in the air.

This morning I saw a lovely gentleman, driving a Bentley, drop off his daughter at school. I can just imagine the conversation this morning.

"Good morning, Sissy."

"Good morning, father."

"Should we take the Bentley this morning? he says.

"That sounds lovely father, should we call someone to bring it out front for us?"

"Of course dear, now gather your things. It's time to go to school."

Ok. Ok. I know what you're thinking. She's lost it. And maybe I have. Because these are the conversations that go on in my head. Really they do. And now I've written it down and shared it with you. This is definitely cause for concern.

So after this conversation ended. (The one inside my head.) Another one started.

I'm still in the car on my way to work. I am now on Marina Blvd., near the San Francisco marina, when I see a big honkin' silver Mercedes next to me. In the back seat is a dapper looking older gentleman. Expensive suit, silver hair, starched white shirt. He's talking to the person driving. The person driving is a middle-aged hispanic woman sitting so close to the steering wheel that it seems to be attached to her. She's actively talking to the man in the back seat. He is all relaxed in back, in the corner, legs crossed, arm up on the side, like he's sitting on a couch.

WHO is SHE? And WHO is HE? Mr., I-don't-have-to-wear-a-seat-belt-and-please-drive-me-somewhere-very-important-this-morning. If only I were a fly!

When we lived in New York and Connecticut you would see people getting limo'd around all the time. The standard limo vehicle is a black town car. The driver always wore a black suit, starched shirt and tie. You just don't see that kind of thing around here. It's a New York thing I guess.

It's confirmed. I've lost it. I think it's my new office. See the picture - and the pipes. I sit right in front of them in my new office. No. I'm not in the basement. My office is actually pretty cool. I just happen to have the Sprinkler SHUT OFF VALVE inches behind my head. No biggie.

All right. That's enough. I need to get to working.

Ta ta!!

Heath Ceramics

I picked up a few plates at Heath Ceramics to use as props for food photos. At least that's what I plan on telling Don anyway.

I just love their plates. I would love to have a set, but they're kind of expensive and we don't really need any plates. But I'm getting bored shooting pictures on the same plates. So, uh oh. I now have some new plates in different shapes and colors. (big smile) I can't wait to cook something so I can use them!! The ladies that checked me out  looked at my random assortment of square plates and said "Oh, what I nice gift for someone!" I laughed. They're a present for me!  Yeah!

If you're not familiar with Heath Ceramics you should check them out. They have great pottery, dinnerware and tile for kitchens, fireplaces, anywhere I guess.

They are based right here in Sausalito, CA.

They're not fancy. They are very simple in design.  But something about the shapes, colors and the fact that they are hand-made right here makes them incredibly beautiful to me. And now that I have a few pieces I must have more. Bowls. I need bowls.

Dove Evolution + my hair + my wrinkles = must see

I recently got my hair cut at Edwards Salon in Mill Valley. A sweet girl named Janie cuts my hair. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm wacko. And I'm doubly sure she doesn't want me telling people she cuts my hair. And I'm also sure that I'm older than her mother. Uuuuuuugh.

I usually go early on Saturday morning. I basically shower, get dressed and go. So she sees me in my finest Saturday attire, hair in a pony tail, with a little lip gloss. Not sure what that adds, but I feel less naked.

This week she asked if she could flat-iron my hair. "Sure! Why not," I say. So I sat there watching her iron my hair in the mirror. I cannot imagine taking this much time to fix my hair. Ever. Not going to happen. Plus I didn't look like myself. I even scared the receptionist when I left. "Wow, I didn't recognize you, " she said. Hmmmm. That's not really a compliment, is it? (Pony tail where are you?)

Worse than that, as I sat there staring at myself in the mirror, all I could see were the dark, dark circles under my eyes and that the color of my skin looked weird. Must be the lighting. Holy schnikes. I look old. I need an eye lift, botox, chin reduction, make-up....something. Ay caramba. I started having an anxiety attack looking at myself. This is a 9-1-1 facial emergency. And the hair!  eeeeks.

My job is full of stress. But it's been especially stressful since August 21st at about 9:00am. And it's showing. So I'm scheduling a facial. I need someone to massage my worries away and give my pour old face some TLC. So here I sit. Smiling at my computer camera (hoping no one walks in) thinking about calling and making that facial appointment.

And then I saw this Dove video and checked out their Campaign for Beauty site. Wow. And we wonder why girls have issues with our looks.

I just showed this to Elli. Here is her response after watching it.
"That's not really her!"she says.
"That's cheating."

So thank you Judi Sherrill for bringing this to my attention. Judy and I went to TCU together. We're facebook friends now. I have stories about Judy. We met freshman year. She is the sweetest texas/southern girl you'll ever meet. And drop dead gorgeous (still is.) Without any photoshop retouching! Thanks, Judi!

My name is Kris. I'm a speed eater.

We get tons of magazines at our agency so I picked up a few in the mailroom to read over the weekend. As I was flipping through Body + Soul I came upon an article called "How to Eat Slowly". The girl in the article even looks like me. Have I been punked? Is Martha spying on me?

Ok, I admit it. I eat fast. It's kind of a joke in my family. I don't know why I do it. But I have always eaten fast. Sometimes it's embarrassing. I'm often done way before everyone else. Elli is the opposite. We call her pokihontas. She is so slow it makes me nuts.

According to the article, if I slow down it will help with digestion, weight and my overall health. So if I quit eating like a woodchuck maybe I can wear a bikini like Elli.  Just kidding. That is not a pretty image. I think I'll aim for wearing jeans comfortably (without having to do knee bends.)

Here are the tips. I'm laughing. #1 is especially funny. Here we go.
1) Mealtime pause. Have another family member plate my food and bring it to me.
2) Put my fork down in between bites.
3) Eating at a candle-lit table with soft music will slow down my eating.
4) Don't watch tv while eating.
5) Eat in slow motion. Tune into the flavors playing on my tongue.

All of this advice has scared me. No wonder I eat fast!

In the article they actually refer to us speed eaters as "Inveterate potato chip gobblers who chew like woodchucks until they hit the bottom of the bag." OMG. That image is enough to get me to slow down. Holy cow. Or should I say holy woodchuck.

My pledge: "I promise to slow down, stop eating like a woodchuck and always sit at a candle lit table."

So there you go. Let's see what happens.  "Honey?  Is my dinner ready?"

Honey???  Don?

Photo from images.com.

I have an idea.

This has to do with laundry. Sheets in particular.  As my client would say, "I have a nit." He's British.

I was doing laundry the other night. I put the sheets in the dryer to dry. When I went get them out of the dryer the sheets and pillowcases were in a huge CLUMP.  All balled up in the fitted sheet.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!  Does this happen to anyone else, or just me?

Stuff like this makes me cranky.  The sheets get all wrinkled. And everything that gets caught in the fitted sheet doesn't dry and is so krinkled it looks like a piece of paper you have crumpled up and thrown in the trash. Inevitably, I end up taking everything out, but the flat sheet, and drying it separately. How mad would you be if your beautiful Bella Notte linens (shown here) were in a clump in the dryer!

Here's my idea.  Instead of making the fitted sheets with elastic. Which turn into nice little pockets for everything to get caught in, use snaps.  Yes, snaps. This way, you can snap the corners together to keep the sheet on tight. But unsnap them when you want to wash them so they wash like a flat sheet. I think it's pretty ingenious. What do you think? (People could do laundry in a Snap!  Get it?  Ha Ha.)

(PS. If you like the look of the Bella Notte linens shown above, give Don a call at Pollin's, we rep their fabric line so we can custom make linens using their gorgeous, luxurious fabrics.)