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Crofton, MD, 21114

A long-running personal blog shared by two authors with completely different approaches to life. And a lot of large, beautiful photographs of dogs and nature and places we've traveled to. Rich in commentary and irreverant in style. 


We started blogging a long time ago. Our work hours never aligned with recommended psychotherapists and we needed to get our thoughts out. We are great friends, total opposites and long-time housemates. This was a way to communicate. With each other. With strangers. With consumer marketers. With sub-par meteorologists. With distant friends who wanted to see pictures of stuff we were up to.

This is the place. Our bucket of thoughts to share. You are welcome. 
(We realize that most of you are here for the dog pictures.)

My Easter Was Better Than Yours.


He knew where we were going. He could smell it.

We were going to Easter at the Farm.

My family has been doing Easter with the Noack's since I was a kid. But every year it is different. Every year it is beautiful. Gorgeous. We were met at the door by this wonderful arrangement. My son asked if "they came out that way".. I looked at him. Blinked and replied "yes.. there is a glee club of chickens nearby that pop out pre-lettered eggs." blink. no.

What Seamus doesn't understand is that - growing up this way - attending parties like this, is that he will grow up warped. Most people just get together and eat eggs. Our Easters are much more like a spread shared by Annie Leibovitz and Architectural Digest. With a splash of the Pioneer Woman thrown in.

Little details are EVERYWHERE. Miniature still lives are set up at your table.

"are you at the duck table?"

"No - I think I'm at the exotic birds table."

There were little 'shrine-like' still-lives set up around the house in honor of some of the attending guests.

Complete with their favorite wine from Chile. (no shit. for reals.) I went to the powder room and there was an towel with my dogs name embroidered on it. blink. (He can't even read.)

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Bryant played sous chef to the lady of the house and assembled flats of french bread slathered with butter, anchovies and radishes and sprinkled with diced chives. Yeah - you think it might taste bad? No. It does not taste bad. It is bread and butter porn. You didn't even know you needed that in your life - and now you do. You need MUCH more of it, you find.

This is what my kitchen table looks like, too. Actually I'd imagine that even the Queen herself doesn't have a midget silver ice bucket for her mint. She may have a golden egg though. (hate her.)

Outside the boys are trying their hand at hitting 'balls-of-all-sizes'.

They look like easter eggs themselves, don't they? Most of the dogs were running bat-shit-crazy trying to retrieve the launched orbs. Where is Hambone?

He's sitting on the hill enjoying the view. While internally muttering about how stupid the other dogs are. (You know he is. He's so pompus.) Or maybe he's peeing. Hard to tell. He was there for a while. I tried to give him space.

Later he would do his other favorite thing. Sit on my dad.

We were all called in for dinner. I got sat at the duck table. Isn't my place setting pretty?

I ate the heck out of ham, salad, pineapple soufflé and scalloped potatoes. OMG. It was so good. So good  in fact, that I put the camera down. Who knew I was capable of that?

Then we had the annual raw egg toss in the field. I also have no photo's of that because I was busy WINNING the egg toss with my awesome partner Hannah. Rock on Hannah. You have a future in fast pitch softball girl. The losers were the ones with 80's egg splash patters all over their shirts. And then there was my mom... mom never try to catch a raw thrown egg in front of your face. It never ends well.

Then dessert - you knew it had to happen. There were little cup cake totems all over the living room sideboards.

This isn't the cupcake stand - but I had to take a picture of that funny little paper mache bunny in the middle. He's just hanging out trying to remember what happened to his arms. I'm not sure Mrs. Noack has enough silver. "People are coming over woman! Try to put some stuff out and grab the handlebars of this entertaining business, will ya? Sheesh."

I had a delightful cup cake (from BUZZ in Alexandria, I'm told). A mere 2400 calories each. But it rocked my world. Had about a 1/4 in layer of  butter cream across the top and then a ganache surprise inside of it. Charmingly decadent.

It rocked my world right onto this couch. I was nice enough to take my photo before I laid my over-fed egg-toss-winning arse onto this nice magazine spread of a screened porch oasis. Yes I was hiding from my child. Parents do it all the time. There is nothing wrong with it.

Oddly we ended the afternoon to waves of thunder that were coming from beyond the trees. I made a big deal of the weather so everyone would leave the Noack's to some peace and quiet. And yes I did the majority of the dishes before I left.

I am awesome like that. You should invite me over sometime.

Big Easter props to the Noacks and everyone else who made today great.  (I actually do hope you had a nice Easter, too... but seriously. You can't hold a candle to mine. Be real. I totally win.)