Three months in, and our L.L. Bean slippers are still probably the best thing that has ever happened to our feet.
We got them for each other for Christmas, unplanned. We'd talked about them over the summer, but who buys fuzzy slippers in July? By fall, I was careful to not mention footwear around Ian, lest he guess that I was planning to surprise him.
Unbeknownst to me, Ian already had the very same idea, and in fact ordered matching his & hers slippers. A pair for me, and the exact pair that I ordered for him. He wrapped both boxes and tucked them under the tree.
I opened my box and immediately slid my feet into the shearling lined cocoons. But I had a sinking feeling. The two boxes Ian wrapped had come in the same package, and the size and shape of the second box was exactly the same as the box I had wrapped and placed under the tree for Ian weeks earlier.
He opened the one from me first, and I watched his face as he realized what I already guessed. He was the proud owner of not one, but two pairs of L.L. Bean's wicked good moccasins.
We had a good laugh, returned the extra pair (he kept the ones from me), and snuggled into our matching slippers. Our feet have never been happier. And I'm thankful I have such a thoughtful husband.
3.31.2012
3.27.2012
the MFA + Sweet Cheeks Q
This has been a winning combo for us on a couple weekends now, so I figured it was about time to write a little more about it.
Thanks to a birthday gift from my parents, Ian and and I have a membership to the MFA (you can get discounted passes via the BPL, and it's free on certain holidays + pay as you wish Wednesday nights after 4 p.m.). And Tiffani, of Top Chef fame (season 1 finalist and All-Stars competitor), recently opened up a barbecue joint down the street. High art + down home cookin' seemed like a match made in heaven.
So we invited a couple friends, Ian and Courtney, to join us for lunch at Sweet Cheeks followed by an afternoon at the museum.
It was a lovely meal (although I should have attempted only half the sandwich) and I discovered what could perhaps be my favorite mac & cheese in Boston to date. The meat is amazing, and Ian dared to declare it's the best barbecue in Boston (yes, he has tried Red Bones and Blue Ribbon which are also excellent).
We headed to the MFA next, and despite our heavy lunch (and Courtney's large baby bump), we still managed to cover just about all of the new Art of the Americas wing, from eighteenth century colonial through 1970s modern.
It was fun to experience the museum with friends, especially architect friends who are into design, particularly furniture (we spent a little extra time in front of the Eames chairs and got a little lesson to boot). We also came across "Linda Nochlin and Daisy" by Alice Neel, which reminded us of "Mama and Babe" by Sarah Irani at the MOBA and prompted a robust discussion on what makes good art.
We repeated the same combination a few weeks later, rather unintentionally. The newly renovated Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was offering free admission to MFA members during opening week. We made plans and showed up to a crazy long line. We thought members could skip it like we do at the MFA. No dice. And after waiting in that long (but speedy, all things considered) line, we learned it wasn't a flash-your-card-get-in kind of deal. We actually had to reserve those free tickets in advance. Defeated by the bureaucracy (and probably occupancy limits) and frazzled by the overwhelming amount of people in the line, we slipped into the greenhouse hallway, snapped photos, and then headed across the street where they scanned our snazzy red membership cards and ushered us into spacious hallways.
Since we'd already thoroughly covered the Art of the Americas wing on our previous visit, we wandered around to some of the fun smaller exhibits. Like an assortment of animal artwork and a timeline of jewelry.
After a lovely and relaxing afternoon, we met up with friends and headed to Sweet Cheeks to check out their dinner. It can be a long wait, but we just beat the big crowd. We split a couple cans of biscuits (four gigantic, heavy biscuits per can) between eight of us. Yes, they cost extra. It's worth every penny for the most dense yet flaky biscuits you'll ever eat, with a heaping portion of honey butter to boot.
And remembering my lunchtime mistake of overeating, I thought I'd pick off of Ian's dinner portion and just get a side of that mouthwatering mac & cheese. Only when the bowl arrived did I learn that a large side is a quart. For the record, it makes a great leftover lunch as well.
The gentlemen of the group decided to order bourbon from the impressive drink list. And our waiter, who could dish back exactly what we gave him, made very helpful suggestions. The spirits came in tiny mason jars (read:adorable manly).
We walked away with bags of leftovers, full bellies, and a tattoo and tiny plastic person from the bathroom vending machines.
If you're in the area, we'd highly recommend making a day of the MFA and Sweet Cheeks, preferably in that order so you can take your leftovers home. You won't regret it.
Pssst. If you're curious about our Boston recommendations, the Backyard Tourists: Boston page is new and improved!
Thanks to a birthday gift from my parents, Ian and and I have a membership to the MFA (you can get discounted passes via the BPL, and it's free on certain holidays + pay as you wish Wednesday nights after 4 p.m.). And Tiffani, of Top Chef fame (season 1 finalist and All-Stars competitor), recently opened up a barbecue joint down the street. High art + down home cookin' seemed like a match made in heaven.
So we invited a couple friends, Ian and Courtney, to join us for lunch at Sweet Cheeks followed by an afternoon at the museum.
It was a lovely meal (although I should have attempted only half the sandwich) and I discovered what could perhaps be my favorite mac & cheese in Boston to date. The meat is amazing, and Ian dared to declare it's the best barbecue in Boston (yes, he has tried Red Bones and Blue Ribbon which are also excellent).
We headed to the MFA next, and despite our heavy lunch (and Courtney's large baby bump), we still managed to cover just about all of the new Art of the Americas wing, from eighteenth century colonial through 1970s modern.
It was fun to experience the museum with friends, especially architect friends who are into design, particularly furniture (we spent a little extra time in front of the Eames chairs and got a little lesson to boot). We also came across "Linda Nochlin and Daisy" by Alice Neel, which reminded us of "Mama and Babe" by Sarah Irani at the MOBA and prompted a robust discussion on what makes good art.
We repeated the same combination a few weeks later, rather unintentionally. The newly renovated Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was offering free admission to MFA members during opening week. We made plans and showed up to a crazy long line. We thought members could skip it like we do at the MFA. No dice. And after waiting in that long (but speedy, all things considered) line, we learned it wasn't a flash-your-card-get-in kind of deal. We actually had to reserve those free tickets in advance. Defeated by the bureaucracy (and probably occupancy limits) and frazzled by the overwhelming amount of people in the line, we slipped into the greenhouse hallway, snapped photos, and then headed across the street where they scanned our snazzy red membership cards and ushered us into spacious hallways.
Since we'd already thoroughly covered the Art of the Americas wing on our previous visit, we wandered around to some of the fun smaller exhibits. Like an assortment of animal artwork and a timeline of jewelry.
After a lovely and relaxing afternoon, we met up with friends and headed to Sweet Cheeks to check out their dinner. It can be a long wait, but we just beat the big crowd. We split a couple cans of biscuits (four gigantic, heavy biscuits per can) between eight of us. Yes, they cost extra. It's worth every penny for the most dense yet flaky biscuits you'll ever eat, with a heaping portion of honey butter to boot.
And remembering my lunchtime mistake of overeating, I thought I'd pick off of Ian's dinner portion and just get a side of that mouthwatering mac & cheese. Only when the bowl arrived did I learn that a large side is a quart. For the record, it makes a great leftover lunch as well.
The gentlemen of the group decided to order bourbon from the impressive drink list. And our waiter, who could dish back exactly what we gave him, made very helpful suggestions. The spirits came in tiny mason jars (read:
We walked away with bags of leftovers, full bellies, and a tattoo and tiny plastic person from the bathroom vending machines.
If you're in the area, we'd highly recommend making a day of the MFA and Sweet Cheeks, preferably in that order so you can take your leftovers home. You won't regret it.
Pssst. If you're curious about our Boston recommendations, the Backyard Tourists: Boston page is new and improved!
3.15.2012
I'm (almost) famous in Japan!
After a fire at the original venue postponed the kimonoko launch party, Robinia Hill finally was able to host the show. And if you recall, I modeled the kimonoko last April for some Robinia Hill blog and web site photos. When it was time to take more photos and shoot a video to bring Takako's vision to life, I was once again wrapped in silk and dropped in front of the camera.
I am so not professional at this, but thankfully Takako, the videographer, and the photographer were very encouraging and had lots of tips and direction. And somehow, amidst the plethora of photos with awkward expressions and stilted poses, a few good ones appeared.
I modeled both my favorite from the previous shoot and a new cozy knit version.
Photos from this shoot greeted guests at the door, and the short video we filmed (I felt silly walking around dramatically for this, but it came together well) served as an intro to the dance performance.
I doubt I'll get any autograph requests if I ever travel to Japan, but the experience was fun, albeit exhausting. And now I have a few more ideas for how to wear my own kimonoko, since the extent of my creativity has been wearing it as a wrap.
Thanks again to Takako for bringing me on board!
I did receive a kimonoko in exchange for modeling, but I'm only blogging about it because I like it.
I am so not professional at this, but thankfully Takako, the videographer, and the photographer were very encouraging and had lots of tips and direction. And somehow, amidst the plethora of photos with awkward expressions and stilted poses, a few good ones appeared.
I modeled both my favorite from the previous shoot and a new cozy knit version.
Photos from this shoot greeted guests at the door, and the short video we filmed (I felt silly walking around dramatically for this, but it came together well) served as an intro to the dance performance.
I doubt I'll get any autograph requests if I ever travel to Japan, but the experience was fun, albeit exhausting. And now I have a few more ideas for how to wear my own kimonoko, since the extent of my creativity has been wearing it as a wrap.
Thanks again to Takako for bringing me on board!
I did receive a kimonoko in exchange for modeling, but I'm only blogging about it because I like it.
3.13.2012
an evening with Viggo Mortensen
You'll never know everything about anything, but it's worth trying. —Viggo MortensenI've mentioned before that we're members at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. We get $3 off tickets every day, and get in free on Sundays after 6 p.m. Not to mention local stores offer discounts to members (though I am always kicking myself for forgetting to flash our card at our most frequented stops: Dorado, The Regal Beagle, Zaftigs, and Brookline Booksmith). It's a pretty sweet deal. And it got even sweeter last Tuesday.
Members get advanced purchase to special events, which meant we got first dibs on the tickets for this year's Coolidge Award events, honoring award recipient Viggo Mortensen. Strider. Aragorn. King of Gondor. So we bought tickets to the Q&A with Robin Young of NPR's Here and Now.
We ate a quick dinner at Paris Creperie next door before hopping in the line, which already wrapped around one side of the theater. After a 30 minute wait, we walked into the theater and snagged decent seats in the middle of the left section (more than half of the theater was reserved for the ticket holders who had paid $250 for the VIP reception beforehand).
Ten minutes later they began the introductions, and suddenly Viggo stood up from the front row and took the stage.
Robin kicked off the interview by disclosing some of her prep work for the event: a day of watching Eastern Promises, A History of Violence, and The Road. Which led into her first question: "What was it like to do a full frontal nude fight scene with knives?" (scary.)
The next hour and a half was a journey of meandering conversations that covered everything from his suit (10 years old, made in Finland, purchased for $1.50, blue threads with a little bit of red woven in) to, with a bit of encouragement from Robin, a sing-along of Aragorn's Coronation Song (he sounds just the same live).
Ian and I had a few distinct impressions of him from the evening. First, the New York Times Magazine article Robin referenced nailed his description as "your older brother’s hippie friend from childhood." Second, he loves tangents, which Robin indulged (he did say when he listens to interviews or reads transcripts, he's surprised how much he does this). Third, Ian said, "he's tall." I said of course: he's the king.
We also have a new sense of respect for him. He takes his craft very seriously, and spoke at some length on his frustrations about how the business is all about business. Actors find coaches solely to help them win awards, which in turn get them more work to earn more awards. It is not enough about the art, and too much about the celebrity. In contrast Robin asked him about his methods for preparing for roles, which involve intense immersion into the culture and character he will be portraying. For Eastern Promises, he spent several months in Russia observing, to make sure he got everything just right.
The evening finished up with the award presentation: a fancy award for his shelf, and a sizable honorarium. Which he promptly gave back to the theater, to "put my money where my mouth is."
Because they didn't have an official autograph signing afterwards, we headed home. It seemed fitting, as he's not crazy about celebrity culture. Instead, we'll be adding a Viggo movie to our queue. And maybe brushing up on our Elvish...
3.02.2012
thankful list | February
01. an awesome Super Bowl party with team Kurlbaum.
02. dessert and drinks with our old neighbors.
03. a fun baby shower for a good friend.
04. a solid group interested in the 2012 DR trip.
05. only a broken 6-year-old camera after I biffed it big.
06. a relaxing and lovely Valentine's lunch with Ian.
07. a clean bill of health after my first annual skin screening.
08. a productive discussion on finances and the future.
09. an uneventful (in a good way) evening of babysitting.
10. discovering we're good at diapers and putting a 5-month-old to sleep.
11. but also realizing we're still not quite ready for a baby.
12. Sweet Cheeks mac n' cheese (and the biscuits + honey butter).
13. friends who enjoy spending hours at the MFA with us.
13. friends who enjoy spending hours at the MFA with us.
14. finally, Google at work.
15. a croissant Friday afternoon after a long 4-day work week.
16. a chill birthday party for Mr. Fox.
17. a productive weekend while Ian is at the office rendering.
18. Nutella and banana grilled sandwiches.
19. Chronicles of Narnia Radio Theatre.
20. vanilla pudding (from a box but made on the stove, not from cups).
21. after weeks + months of work, a live web site.
22. a husband who cooks for me.
20. vanilla pudding (from a box but made on the stove, not from cups).
21. after weeks + months of work, a live web site.
22. a husband who cooks for me.
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