keeping it in the family

The space above our fireplace was a blank slate for about a year and a half. Just a lonely hook over the mantle, waiting for a painting.

And then we found a painting that was worth waiting for — one that Ryan's grandfather painted years ago. He used to paint quite a lot, but doesn't do it much anymore (too bad for me, because I wanted to commission a few more). We think this one is of the South Carolina/Georgia coastline. It's nice to have a little reminder of warmer weather.
And — we can dream — maybe one day we'll have a view like that.


leftover restaurant bread

It's free and pre-sliced. And if you don't take it home, they're just going to throw it away. Sounds like the perfect French Toast to me.



Dis-is-what? Indiana's oldest bar (The Slippery Noodle Inn) and Indiana's oldest tradition (basketball).

According to Wikipedia, the Inn served as a stop on the Underground Railroad during the American Civil War. During prohibition it was called a restaurant, although beer was still being made in the basement, and later it housed a brothel until 1953.

Cool place. Bad food. But at least we had a Groupon. And then we walked over to the Pacers game, where they beat the Knicks 119-117. Made for a good Tuesday night, even if the fog was like pea soup.


lonely little toothbrush

There are certain inanimate objects that I can't help but feel sorry for. Like day-old pastries, forgotten photos in estate sales... and single toothbrushes.

Growing up, I shared a bathroom with my brothers. There were always three toothbrushes sitting by the sink, huddled together, I remember, like a bristled little family.

One time, after spending a weekend at my then-single Aunt Pam's condo, I mailed her a new toothbrush that the dentist had given me. And a note saying I thought her toothbrush needed company. I was 10 or so.

But 16.5 years later, I still don't like the look of a lone toothbrush. Ryan's in Denver, so for now it's just me and the pink Oral-B, blogging and brushing late into the night. How I managed three years of long-distance, I'm still not sure.