Betty Sue could feel the pull of spring nipping at here widening waist and winter sluggishness. Time to get out her exercise DVDs and try to whittle that middle down! She huffed and she puffed, and you had to admire her fortitude in keeping up with leg lifts, side kicks, and arm circles. But then she came to that darn double-leg cross grapevine move and she faltered. Looking over her shoulder at the t.v. screen, trying to follow her svelte television instructor, she tripped and twisted her ankle. Cursed aerobics hell! She limped to her freezer, grabbed some Ben and Jerry's ice cream, hobbled to the couch and put an end to that insanity.
Speaking of winter, here's a few shots I took last Saturday morning. I actually was walking Ebert, when I saw this ice in the alley looking like broken glass. It was so beautiful, I had to run back alone with my camera, but even a 5 minute difference had changed its appearance in the warming sun. Still, here's a peek at nature's mosaic.
Then there was this fellow. Just a lollipop of a big-headed icicle sticking straight up out of the snow. He looks like a heart, and in the next, an upright cobra, and then a side-view of a screaming mouth and eyes.
Heart
Wide-Eyed Cobra
Eyes and Mouth on the upper right-hand side.
And I love all the detritis and debris in this dirty snow bank. I want to use that background in a painting.
Here are some wintry goodies. I took this shot of banana bundt cake while it was still steaming, fresh out of the pan:
I used 2 cups of gluten-free Cup4Cup flour and 1 cup of almond meal to make it gluten-free.
Just a snapshot of the finished product. Grapefruit Pie with Campari and Angostura Orange Bitters. It was surprisingly delicious! What little I got of it... Click on the link to my other blog to see all the pics and to find out what happened to my citrusy pie!
I'm thinking I'm going to start another blog that's only about pie called listentomepielady.blogspot.com. I'm going to put the first post here on livedrawpaint, but I think I'm just put the finished pie product and if you want to troll over to the other blog for details, well by golly, that would be peachy-keen. (-;
So, here ya' go:
First pie of the year. I meant to start this blog in January, but it just didn't work out that way.
I had my heart set on calling this blog Pie on Sunday, but that name is
already taken. Sooooooooo, we'll go with "Listen to me, Pie Lady." The
inversion of that quote is used in the sweet film, "Waitress" where Old
Joe says to our heroine, Jenna, "Pie Lady, listen to me." It's a
moment of great importance: A man at the end of his life of missed
chances trying to open the eyes of a young person and redirect her from
his path of regret. It's a warning of the utmost importance.
I can't find a clip of YouTube of that great exchangeb(about at 1 hr, 21
minutes into the movie), but here's the movie trailer. You can get a
tiny piece of it around 2:04.
O.K., so here's Egg and Grog Pie from "The Four & Twenty Blackbirds
Pie Book" by Emily and Melissa Elsen out of Brooklyn, NY by way of North
Dakota. This is the first book I will start with on my pie sojourn.
I'm not really much of a "cake" girl, by pie and pastry, have always
been my loves. And if you have gluten problems, don't let it stop you
from having these delicious items. Substitutions are everywhere!
Please, please try to use freshly grated nutmeg. The fragrant difference and taste is overwhelming!
I like to use "baker's sugar" when baking...it blends so much more easily.
My poor box of Maldon sea salt has seen better days!
Flaky goodness! I grind it up between my fingers before adding.
Vanilla bean paste-so delicious. It doesn't thin the batter, but rather adds viscosity to it.
See all those vanilla bean flecks? Heady!
The gingersnap crust starting to come together.
Oh, yes. Heavy whipping cream, and 3 eggs, and...
I kid you not. This black spiced rum was in my cabinet way before I
turned to this recipe. But, when I did, this same bottom is pictured in
the book! AMAZING! I will admit, I was captivated by the label
first--I love octopi--but, man on man, this stuff is so delicious. I
like it better than any other rum I've tried. This little addition add
the "grog" part to the pie.
Look--even the lid is super fabulous!
Eggnoggy-like filling is ready to go...
The finished result. You're supposed to let it cool 2-3 hours. I made
30 minutes. Within 6 minutes, my husband and I had eaten 1/2 of the
custardy pie. Listen, Kman HATES pie and he loved this. So
del-ee-ish-us. (-;
Good luck tonight at the Oscars, Matthew McConaughey. Your acting chops have dazzled in movies since 2011 (just saw your disturbing turn in "Killer Joe" last night). You've been consistently amazing, soared in "Dallas Buyers Club" and have me completely mesmerized by your performance in HBO's "True Detective."
I watch every episode over and over, and think of how you have changed your entire career by--to quote your unrecognizable character, Rust Coehle--"start(ed) asking the right fucking questions."
Hopefully not all love's labour is lost, as our dear fellow became a bit waylaid from his ladylove. Just as his little legs are pounding forward, I, too, am going to hurry and offer you a belated Valentine's Day delivery.. After all, it still feels like the coldness of February remains.
Here's what I got from the man for Valentine's Day. It was a HUGE, dream box of chocolates from gourmet Vosges Haut-Chocolates. It added poundage, but baby, it was worth it!
I can relate to this chic a bit, not because I'm on some bad acid trip (ha!), but because I am fighting a cold and going down for the count. I've been surrounded by it at work the last 2 weeks and by my husband at home. It seems no matter how many vitamins I've been taking, I'm in a losing battle. I just laid down for 2 hours, but my head is so packed, I can't breath, and my skin is sore, sore, sore to the touch...my sweater against me is torturous. Ugh. I worked on this yesterday and some this a.m. when I didn't have the energy to do anything else, and thought I was at my worst. Wishful thinking. At least I have the next episode of "True Detective" to look forward to--how deprived I will feel when that brilliant show ends in a few weeks. Thank you, dear world, for the capability to DVR...not sure I'll be awake to see it.
Something possessed him when his birthday approached. Instead of his 32-year-old self, Rudy suddenly became a six-year-old, demanding his rewards for gracing this world with his presence. Well, indeed! Why shouldn't he get presents for his presence? And why shouldn't he make his demands in every language? Por ejemplo, he loved Spanish, and they were a giving people. His battle cry of "Give me my presents!" became more lyrical to his ears--and he hoped to others--when he changed it to ¡Dame misregalos!
At the very least, someone could fix him some huevos con chorizo for breakfast.
Carol was praying for a colorful life. She yearned to be set free from her monochromatic world. Her sheets were white, her walls were white, the bars on her windows were white...and black--and she wasn't even in prison. Well, perhaps the prison within her own mind. Even her chin seemed to reach around the corner, jutting its way into some room speckled with chartreuse and aquamarine. Sadly, she had only one glimpse of color in her universe and it was when she went to bed at night, for her dreams swirled in magenta orange. Inks dripping, spinning, dotting every movement--a tango of exotic brightness.
But each morning she awoke and stared at black and white, black and white (alright, it was a dichromatic world). Sigh. Her shoulders hunched, her hands dragging on the floor, she was shocked from her doldrums by a splinter, lodging its way into her fleshy fingertip. With an "Ow!" and a jolt to her system, she blinked hard at the intruder in her body. And as she blinked, a piece of the rainbow washed into her world. She blinked again and another color joined her surroundings. And so it happened, with more blinks more splatterings of jeweled pigments tinted her life. The prick of splinter activated a synesthesia within her, one sensation triggering another, until she rocketed out, through, upwards into this poetic place she had yearned for.
She was now Carlotta, vivaciously vibrant in both dreams and life. Prayers are answered!
The highlight paint I used in this has a shimmer to it, but the camera just didn't pick it up. I painted this over another painting and gave it new life.
I was watching some preliminary Super Bowl shows and was getting a little bored by some chic singing in leather so I did a little channel surfing and ended up on the E Channel which was doing a "Sex in the City" marathon. My excitement fell off immediately as I saw a banner running at the bottom of the screen. "...found dead in his NYC apartment." And I didn't know who it was. I kept reading, but there was no name yet, and eventually the message ran in a loop, and I saw it..."Philip Seymour Hoffman." I couldn't believe it...and then I felt immediate devastation. He was one of my very favorite, favorite actors. I remember seeing him in "Scent of A Woman" and being impressed. However, I think the movie where I became thunderstruck by his talent was, "The Talented Mr. Ripley." I thought, wow, this guy is incredible. Nuanced beyond belief. And that did it. I followed him from that moment on, and he never disappointed. He became my modern day, Al Pacino. Not in looks, of course, but in his ability to swing from any movie role and off onto a Broadway stage as well, just as Al does. He could sink deeply into a sinister role, but just as brilliantly be funny, arrogant, and tender in something like, "Along Came Polly."
I said to my husband, I just can't believe it! This guy was so phenomenal...he had the admiration of his peers, an academy award, so many nominations. But I know that means nothing if you are haunted by inner demons. And he was so good that one has to think that there had to be so much pressure on him to be continually phenomenal with every role. That expectation had to take a toll.
I remember last year when there were news reports that he had went into rehab...that he had snorted heroin 3 or 4 times, and he realized he had better go into rehab before it got worse. I had been surprised by that news, but was so glad he gotten help. At that time, I don't remember there having been reports of his former struggle (up until his early 20's) with addiction.
I have been reading articles on him all night, and their reader comments. Articles quote this one and that one with our modern day form of condolence--the Twitter tweet of sorrow. No article that I've seen, however, has quoted Jim Carrey's tweet, which I think is probably the most accurate one of them all:
"Dear Philip, a beautiful beautiful soul.
For the most sensitive among us the
noise can be too much.
Bless your heart."
I'm so sad tonight and still really, in a state of absolute shock. And I'm so sorry for the loss of you, Philip...unbelievably talented, shooting star of depth and heart-rending emotion.
Happy February! Snowing, snowing, and snowing. Just sitting on the couch, drawing a couple of faces, watching the snow globe world through the window and grateful to be inside.
