sisu

You make me smile with your art

"You know you’re gonna have a good day when your breakfast smiles at you," writes food photographer and rib tickler extraordinaire Elisson. (Blog d'Elisson photo)

"Now, that’s what I call a real Happy Meal!" says Elisson, who knows what a hungry eye wants:

[FYI, this is exactly how my plate looked when it arrived yesterday morning. Except for the raisin eye-pupils, which I added in order to provide a “demented” effect.]

Yes, but it's those very artfully placed cockeyed raisins that transform the objet trouvé into a work of art. Plus, like all great art, it contains layers of meaning, sending the mind's eye of the beholder on flights of fancy and self-revelation. For example, give his breakfast a quarter turn, and you're in EXTRA Happy Meal territory:

"A variation of :) that implies someone is extra happy," says Sharpened Glossary Definitions of Emoticons of the above emoticon.

Continuing to read into Elisson's original "statement," try turning it 180, and we're talkin' Eric Cartman of "South Park":

 

According to Wikipedia, South Park creators "Stone and Parker have said that … Cartman is largely inspired by All in the Family patriarch Archie Bunker, and creating him as a 'little eight-year-old fat kid' made it easier for the two to portray a Bunker-like character after the introduction of political correctness to late-20th-century television."

What can you read into our own artful edible, Mr. Grapefruit, a regular on the Sunday Breakfast circuit?

Update: New layers of meaning, with religious overtones, emerge from a midmorning imail conversation:

She: I always thought that :-D was a snide thing, not a happy thing, and have been using it inappropriately for YEARS.

We : LOL. Spreading extra happiness unbeknownst to you.

The Lord does move in mysterious ways.

Light effects

The "SUE Lamp," a one-of-a-kind keeper from the Tuckman's shop for our sis, in three easy steps:

1. Using carpenter's glue, bond two sets of two pieces of three-quarter-inch pine together, one for the base, the other for the "sue."

2. With a few skillful turns of band saw, drill press and dremel tool, remove everything that doesn't look like "sue" and drill diagonally up from the bottom and vertically down from the top of the "u" to provide a channel for the cord. In the base, drill halfway down from top and then halfway in from the back to complete the channel.  Fine tune with rasps and files.

3. Finish things off with 3 coats of Gesso, wet-sanded, followed by countless coats of water-based high-gloss enamel by Krylon. Total cost of materials: c. $30 (wood was available "free" from shop inventory of leftovers). Total labor: 40 hours. A little gem of a thing.

"Awww. You shouldn't have."

We had provided technical assistance utilizing LinoType's online "Font Finder" and "Create sample" features, scrolling through the "Sans Serif" category to find a face that matched Tuck's original back-of-the-napkin sketch (above). We hit the jackpot with two members of the "Neue Helvetica® Font Family," "85 Heavy" and "86 Heavy Italic," using italic for the "s" and "e" and regular for the "u" to get a nice distribution of positive and negative spaces and the solid vertical upright that would hold the Home Depot lamp hardware and K-Mart lampshade. We got the sample into Photoshop for a little cutting and pasting and size adjustment, and the finished product was astonishingly close to Tuck's second sketch (upper right).

The wrapping paper itself, printouts of the logo in various colors on 8 1/2 x 11 sheets,  provided documentation and a witty commentary on the design process. Tuck used his paper shredder to get the reference to the lampshade's fringe along the bottom, and Tiny, sitting atop the printer behind the gift package in the countdown to supper the other afternoon, lent the necessary surrealistic air of mystery to the proceedings.

Tuck looks on with proprietary satisfaction at Saturday presentation ceremonies for the belated Xmas gift Down East, where family members gathered for a Valentine's/Mummy's Birthday luncheon of comfort foods featuring Fanny Farmer's classic Beef Stew with Vegetables — the Bourguignonesque version slow-cooked on the stovetop with red wine and beef stock — freshly baked Pillsbury Italian and vanilla ice cream with addictive Butterscotch Sauce [Mummy's signature Sunday treat way back when]. We made our dessert sauce the old-fashioned way — following the superbly written and illustrated "How to Make Butterscotch" at Simply Recipes: No more corn syrup!

The "card" was a copy of Tuck's working drawings, suitable for framing.

 

We love the playfulness of the beaded fringe that hangs from the pale ivory lampshade. Let there be light!

"I have urgently endeavored to jam as much of the Democratic agenda into this recovery plan as humanly possible," says Con Man in Chief Obama

The light fantastic transforms two everyday objects — one white, one blue, each an everyday household cleaning product — atop our computer desk early afternoon. Can you name them?

"The Obama spending bill would stimulate the government, not the economy," writes Mitt Romney in an enlightening must-read "Special to CNN" commentary that breaks through the murkiness of Obama & Company's wobbly, defensive warnings of gloom and doom predicting the end of the world as we know it if Republicans don't get behind the Democrats' "recovery" plan. We loved Jules Crittenden's take-off of the Con Man in Chief's "sense of urgency about the recovery plan before Congress," quoting from an Obama Wa Po op ed:

"And because we know that a lot of the things we might have wanted to spend lots of your money on now no longer have a prayer, that’s why I have urgently endeavored to jam as much of the Democratic agenda into this recovery plan as humanly possible, while accusing the Republicans of cheesy politics, while also pretending like my own stuff doesn’t stink."

Ha ha, just kidding. He didn’t really say that last bit. I made that up. Sounds good, though.

Wicked good.

Meatloafing upon the dining room table in the long wrinkle of time between breakfast and supper, backlit by the morning light streaming into the kitchen, Tiny contemplates her "ineffable effable, Effanineffable, Deep and inscrutable singular Name."

Despite our profound admiration and respect for our former Taxachusetts Gov, we weren't a huge Romney fan during the primaries — long-shot candidate Fred Thompson was our man back then — and had to bite the bullet to get behind John McCain when he became our party's candidate, but Romney and McCain are lookin' pretty good about now.

Even court jester and VP Joe Biden ain't lookin' so bad these days, having unwittingly told it like it is — sorta — when he addressed House Democrats at their posh retreat at Kingsmill Resort & Spa in Williamsburg, VA to discuss future strategery, "If we do everything right, if we do it with absolute certainty, there's still a 30 percent chance we'll get it wrong." We might quibble with the percent, but right on, Mr. Vice President!

Update: Maggie's links.

Sixty-eight candles make a lovely light

Scenes from a Birthday Party. Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City, a bottle of cognac and a gentleman's portable umbrella were among the gifts for Tuck's 68th, frosting on the cake of a Cold Turkey Cookbook Birthday Eleganza computerside last evening. First course (not pictured), a Tucker favorite we hadn't served in years, steamed artichokes with butter dip.

Checking in at the California Artichoke Advisory Board website for how long to steam the 'chokes — 25-45 minutes, till center petal pulls out easily — we came upon this showstopper, Artichoke Benedict. Look to the animals, and look to the plants.

First among equals, most exclaimed-over gift of the night was The Daily Carrot. We present a carrot to our hubby each afternoon before supper, trying to outdo ourselves from day to day by surprising him with ever more creative contexts. One memorable presentation involved laying the carrot in the arms of the SpongeBob atop his computer. Another had the carrot hidden in plain sight amidst the finger foods of a Friday Puzzle Date doib plate. This time we raised the bar, setting the bright orange taproot — as one would a precious jewel — inside an acetate teabox, wrapped and ribboned to blend in with the other gifts, most of which he knew about ahead of time, having helped us pick them out. "Do I know what this is?" he asked. "Not really," we began, adding after a pregnant pause "Well, you SHOULD know." The lightbulb went off, a moment of pure pleasure as he realized he'd been fooled again.

Second course: French Onion Soup. We melted some butter and sweated down the sliced onions an hour in our fave old-fashioned Revere Ware stainless steel pan — a faithful servant of decades when fancier, trendier pans came and went — turning them occasionally till they turned "dark mahogany." Then you add white vermouth to the pan, turn up the heat and reduce liquid to a "syrup consistency." Add broth and cider and simmer 15 minutes. Full recipe here. Note: We made Pillsbury French bread, used Gruyere cheese and followed the Food Network's suggestion of an "optional" splash of cognac. Tuck said it was the best soup ever. 'Wish we'd taken more pictures, but we were too busy savoring the moment.

The rest of the menu, served in classic Cold Turkey "Petit Fours" mindful-eating style:

Brined Boneless Porkchops

Baked Stuffed Potatoes (Recipe to come)

"Broccoli Moose" (Recipe to come)

Candied Carrot Coins (Recipe to come)

Corny Cornbread Mini Muffins

Great presents, great food, great company. An evening to remember, and infinitely more soul-nourishing than tuning in to Red-Diaper Baby Barry Obama's "Sally Struthers of our national conscience" infomercial, the one that delayed the start of the World Series broadcast last night.

The great unwashed

 

The great unwashed laundry catches the light fantastic early morning.

Beauty in unexpected places rewards the watchful eye.

"Just two old-time things that people have kind of forgotten about"

A come-hither whisper from within a "Beggar's Purse" of wax paper, where one of our Corny Cornbread Mini Muffins poses provocatively atop the dining room table. To make your own: Use the recipe at "Extremely corny and very moist," substituting a cup of thawed, puréed frozen corn if you don't have fresh steamed. Then dollop the batter into a Pam-sprayed mini-muffin pan and bake 15 minutes at 350˚. Yield: 12 minis. See below for how to make wrapper. It's a piece of cake.

"I have just invented the most adorable bit of packaging," we wrote our imail correspondent this morning:

'Was trying to find a cute container for a batch of Corny Cornbread Minis to present as a hostess gift this evening. 'Didn't have any containers or cute boxes of the right size. 'Was about to just put 'em into a reclosable food storage bag when inspiration struck: Wax paper!

She: TELL ALL!!!

We: You place a mini in the center of a six-inch square (half the roll width) of wax paper, draw together opposite corners over the top of the mini and give the thing a twist.

She: AWESOME!! They're called Beggar's Purses, I think, in regard to wrapping little things in dough.

We: I must try it in DOUGH sometime. I LOVE the term, and it fits perfectly with how I stumbled upon it. I do LOVE the look and feel of wax paper. Very sensuous, dreamy … WAXY!

She: LOL. You know whose mother necessity is.

We: Beauty in unexpected places.

The structural memory of wax paper is such that the twist held, creating a swirling array that reminded us of the spiraling armies of dancers in the totally awesome opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympic Games, masterwork of former dissident movie director Zhang Yimou, now dissed by critics as "a kind of Chinese Leni Riefenstahl, creating beautiful backdrops for iron-fisted rulers." We caught some of the stagecraft and pyrotechnics — Busby Berkeley on steroids — in the wee hours this morning on NBC. George and Laura were there, bravely soldiering on as the world teeters on the edge.

"How cute is THAT???" wrote our sis when we imailed the top photo:

She: I think you can do for waxed paper what you did for lard.

We: LOL. May I quote you?

She: Well, just two old-time things that people have kind of forgotten about.

So much good stuff that people have kind of forgotten about, so little time.

L'État, c'est Mac!

How to add accents (Voilà!) and trademarks (Bush's Fault™) and symbols of love () to the text of your blogposts? Being allergic to reading how-to manuals, we'd always relied on the hunt-and-peck method -- google an instance of the symbol, then cut and paste it into the editing window, or in the case of hearts, screengrab, edit in Photoshop and then upload as a JPEG image. But no more, thanks to Dr. Mercury's Miracle Cure, featured in today's installment of the good doctor's weekly-plus "Computer Corner" at Maggie's Farm:

Bonjour, garçon!  Here ees my résumé!

I mean, if you're going to act cosmopolitan … at least look cosmopolitan! …

Okay, this is slick and easy.

Go to Start Menu, Programs, Accessories, System Tools, "Character Map."

The Doc's excellent instructions were meant for Windows, of course, which got our workaround, problem-solving juices flowing. Apple's "Character Palette" is instantly accessible in a drop-down menu from a little flag symbol along the top right of our iMac screen. [The flag has been there all along, but we never thought to check it out before. So much for intellectual curiosity.] Instead of Windows' five steps from Start Menu to "Character Map," it's only two clicks for us from flag symbol to "Character Palette." As we said in the comments at Maggie's, "L'État, c'est Mac!"

Update for non-bloggers, from an imail chat this afternoon:

Goomp: I read "Voilà!" but I am not sophisticated enough to understand it.

We: It's just a technical trick that makes it easy to insert foreign punctuation marks and other symbols into blog posts.

Goomp: I am sure other bloggers will find it helpful. It sounds like a time saver.

We: Plus the fun of acquiring a new skill.

Goomp: After you expained it, I get the idea. I think those who will use it probably understand.

Not to mention the undercurrent of Mac-vs-PC-flame-war innuendo in Dr. Merc's and our own dueling comments at Maggie's.

"Established in our minds through telling and re-telling"

Dicentra spectabilis (Bleeding Heart) lifted from Ellen's woodland garden late last summer and planted in our own border beneath the high retaining wall early fall makes its home where the heart is in Chelsea-by-the-Sea.

"Often what we call memory consists of images or even embellished accounts that have become established in our minds through telling and re-telling," emails Norm Geras of normblog in response to our own email re his post "Being there and remembering," where he writes:

There's this question whether or not to take photos of an event you're part of and how doing so will affect your memory of it. Tyler Cowen says that if you do take photos you'll remember the event more vividly because you're stopping and noticing things. Andrew Sullivan thinks your experience of the event is more authentic if you're living it in the present and not worrying about storing it for the future.

I don't know about taking photos, something I hardly ever do, but from a comparable activity, namely, taking (or not taking) notes on an event, in order to write about it, I'd say that neither of these generalizations can be sustained. There's no single right way of being 'in the moment' . . . As Tyler points out, your view is bound to be mediated in some way (which is not to say that every view or account is as good as every other).

Babe strikes a thoughtful pose atop the kitchen counter this afternoon, contemplating the big wait between supper and breakfast, knowing that a carefully focused stare or well aimed Mr. Paw can elicit the necessary kitty treats to tide him through.

As one who does know something about taking photos, we agree with Tyler and Norm that "your view is bound to be mediated in some way" and had this to add to Norm's thoughts:

Re your observation that "the record you have made itself becomes your memory of it," couldn't that very thing be said of most -- if not all -- of photojournalists' work [not to mention journalists' work in general],from Michael Yon's pieta-like image of Major Beiger cradling a dying Iraqi girl to the shameless propaganda setups of Pallywood?

Where picture-making is concerned -- whether your images are fashioned of pixels or paints or words or whatever -- the eye of the beholder rules. Were Georgia O'Keefe to paint an image of our Bleeding Heart, it would have been up close and personal.

The American Primitive artist who painted our favorite bird's-eye view of a cat would have honed in on Baby's killer glare for scarifying effect. Because the visual image is seductive, viewers would do well to beware the feelings it evokes and think twice before embracing the artist's/writer's "vision."

"You DID capture the day," our imail correspondent writes of the custom photo album with quilted cover and Letraset quotations we made for her wedding back in the day. "The ladies getting ready. I love that part." Photo by Tuck of Susan, Mummy and Sissy getting pretty.

Update: Snapshots from an imail conversation:

She: It's all in the "eye," and most poor fools just take pictures. I retired my camera, along with my iron, decades ago . . . We're using the wedding album that you and Tuck made for Joe and me as a prop in the [Amesbury Playhouse] show. I remember it as such a happy time, and having the photos to prove it is GRAVY!!! I love the idea of a designated photographer as long as he/she is worthy.You wouldn't want me as DP. It cannot be left to an amateur with no eye.

We: Someone who thinks you just "take a picture" and that will catch the spirit of the moment.

She: I hadn't looked at [the album] in years. The years have not been kind to the Polaroid pictures, but, that aside, the day is captured in all its merriment. A glorious moment in time. The Nanas, the parents, the nun who was a cousin or something. Then all the revelers. It doesn't matter, now, that many are forgotten, or even dead, it was a shining moment.

We:  They are timeless characters in an ageless drama.

She: Yes. Nothing changes but the date. If you come to the show, afterwards, I shall trot out the album for you and Tuck to see. You'll love it, and again, that's why I think your latest post was so thought provoking. Memories require two, two, two mints in one.

Say cheese.

Update II: Lots of shots of all things bright and beautiful at Modulator's  Friday Ark #190.

Update III: Teresa links with hearts and flowers.

Baby Cakes in Kris Kringle's Kitchen

The Xmas Card Factory on the far end of our computer table is in full production mode. Tuck has ordered his usual 25-30. "Baby Cakes in Kris Kringle's Kitchen" (above) features an image of the Babe framed by a selection of last year's cards. Staring out a late-winter-afternoon kitchen window, he appears to be contemplating things we don't see.

Unimpressed, Tiny (above with new card behind her right ear) prefers this design of a couple of years back showing her own sweet self contemplating things we don't see:

Meanwhile we are contemplating things cats don't. What words of love and hope and joy to inscribe on the vellum tipped inside the card? We loved last year's "A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices." Hmmmm.

Update: Lots more contemplation of things we don't see at This, That & The Other Thing's Carnival of the Cats #193.

Chatty Hillary

Goldwater Girl Hillary Rodham was the crème de la crème, smarter and savvier sis of two also-ran brothers from a wealthy Chicago suburban family. Hillary! quit the campus Republican party and got religion at Wellesley College, where she famously studied at Saul [ends justify the means] Alinsky's knee. Her thesis, written under his tutelage, was suppressed by Wellesley at her request, and Alinsky is totally absent from her Wikipedia entry. Make of that what you will. Above, in the flower of her youthful beauty (no attribution) left and right as a Wellesley senior in 1969, when her graduation speech made Time mag as she declared "We're searching for a more immediate, ecstatic and penetrating mode of living." Aren't we all? Then came Yale Law School and her destiny, Slick WIlly. Immediate, ecstatic and penetrating, indeed.

"I cannot stand this condescending, calculating, manipulative person," writes Bird Dog at Maggie's Farm, exactly capturing our own thoughts and feelings re the woman who would be Leader of the Free World. Centrist Ann Althouse wants to give the person now known in media circles once again as Hillary RODHAM Clinton -- it wasn't long ago that we were expected to call her Hillary! or Hillary Clinton or even Senator Clinton -- another chance. Commenting on the warm and fuzzy "I'm In" video at HillaryClinton.com Ann says:

I think it's a signal of openness -- possibly as an antidote to the disease of calculation that everyone thinks she has and possibly to leave plenty of room to readjust any and all of her policies and proposals.

And let me add that I think she looked fine.

Photoshop montage of Hillary as Ilsa - She Wolf of the SS from our 2004 post "Hillary's Pink Offensive."

Openness, no. We who closely followed the Clinton trajectory through the White House years know what we know. Hillary was bit by the calculation bug way back when. She is a force to be reckoned with, but she's no Margaret Thatcher, as her campaign chairman the cuddly if morally challenged Terry McAuliffe appears to have convinced the London Times' Washington correspondent. But we do agree with Ann that Hillary "looked fine." Beautiful production values, a skillful surgical nip and tuck of the jowels and a well-coached "kinder, gentler" persona made for a fine outing that might impress the impressionable.

"You can get your Marc Jacobs designer tee shirt at Friends of Hillary for only a $555 contribution, plus tax. And, each shirt comes with a specially-produced 'I Hillary' tag sewn inside," went the caption at the now-defunct website of Hillary's 2004 Pink Offensive. We photoshopped her own quotation about "taking things away" from us and her husband's related concern that we might spend our own money "wrong" for dramatic effect.

"Many of you are well enough off that . . . the tax cuts may have helped you," Hillary Rodham Clinton told wealthy supporters back in June of 2004:

We're saying that for America to get back on track, we're probably going to cut that short and not give it to you. We're going to take things away from you on behalf of the common good.

As we said in the comments at Ron Rosenbaum's provocatively titled "I Like Hillary Because She's Mean" blogpost at Pajamas Xpress:

What I don't like about "the new Mrs.Thatcher" -- beyond her decidedly unThatcherian politics and lack of any evident core values other than the accumulation of power -- is her condescending, elitist, I-know-better-than-you-what's-best-for-you attitude, as expressed in her shameless admission that "We're going to take your money for the common good." Similar to her husband's "What if you spend YOUR money WRONG?"

"As a senator, I will spend two years doing everything in my power to limit the damage George W. Bush can do. But only a new president will be able to undo Bush's mistakes and restore our hope and optimism," says Miss Hillary, inviting her fellow Americans to "join me not just for the campaign but for a conversation about the future of our country -- about the bold but practical changes we need to overcome six years of Bush administration failures. I am going to take this conversation directly to the people of America, and I'm starting by inviting all of you to join me in a series of web chats over the next few days." Isn't that nice.

It's not that she's a woman. It's not that she's a Clinton. It's her assumption that our own earnings are hers to give or take away that galls, especially in light of her invitation to "chat." Not to mention her assumption that we have abandoned hope.

Update: Pajamas Media links to us and to Professor Bainbridge, who writes:

When you compare key quotations side-by-side, it becomes clear that LadyThatcher was all about liberty and prosperity, while Hillary is all about unions, big government, and high taxes and spending.

Exactly.