Blue Velvet Sectional

I made a cake. Normally, this would not be big news, it would indicate it's a day that ends in a Y. In this case, it's newsworthy (at least to me) because it's the first thing I have baked on my own since my accident. My arms and wrists are still ridiculously weak.  I wasn't able to get a big mixing bowl out of the cupboard, nor could I ratchet up my KitchenAid mixer, so I had to make the whole thing in a cereal bowl.  I halved the recipe, and struggled on with a wooden spoon.  I baked the cake in 2 mini cake pans I picked up at Sur la Table in SoHo a few years ago. I used a recipe from an old cottage cookbook I've had for decades. I have left the original (and minimal) instructions below.  In old cookbooks, they tend to assume you already know what you're doing in the kitchen.  If you aren't an experienced baker, a few tips: use room temperature butter; mix baking soda and powder in with flour first; don't over-mix. This makes a thick batter tha...

It's been an emotional few days. Ah, well, here we are. Donald Trump is the President Elect of the United States of America.  I didn't see this coming, AT ALL.  And, I suppose, shame on me for that. I guess I do live in a liberal, multicultural, educated bubble, but it wasn't always like that.  As I have said before, my parents were basically Archie Bunker and Gidget (yup, they got divorced when I was young).  My liberalism came as I experienced life, as a form of common sense and empathy.  I mean, how could you feel otherwise, or so I thought.  I had no idea that actual or perceived economic anxiety would allow decent people to vote for a man enthusiastically endorsed by the former imperial grand wizard (or whatever the fuck) of the KKK. Shame on them for that. Whatever. Here we are.  What now? Do Democrats have to "fall in line" in a way Republicans NEVER did for President Obama?  I mean, they wouldn't even consider a Supreme Cour...

Never again. In 2008, as I stood in line at the National Archives (on July 4th!), I overheard a conversation behind me.  A young man from Texas was chatting with an older woman, who said she was from Iowa.  I kept my eyes front, but I rolled them, assuming I was in for a long bout of "Obama is a Muslim who hates America" garbage, but I was surprised. Talk quickly turned to politics, as we waited for a chance to see the Declaration of Independence. The man rather sheepishly confessed that he was an Obama volunteer; the older woman replied that she had been holding meetings in Iowa on behalf of the Senator from Illinois. They were both doing all they could to ensure that the first black president was elected. I smiled, then silently chastised myself for making an assumption that just because I was in a very patriotic place on a patriotic day, I'd be surrounded by gun-loving, gay-hating science-denying idiots. Shame on me. Still, there's a reason that I, and ...

Greek yogurt pancakes. As someone who spends as much time as possible on Harbour Island, I feel a kinship with others who love it there and return frequently.  Kinship isn't the right word; that implies some sort of equal status, which I am very well aware I don't share with the Harbour Island people I follow on Instagram: India Hicks ,   Annika Von Holdt , Alessandra Branca , Amanda Brooks , and Marie-Chantal of Greece . Aside from the fact that I am pretty much the only one of these women with any measurable body fat, let's not even get into the gulf between our economic statuses.  (Then again, being the poorest person to regularly holiday on HI, and now to have a house on Eleuthera, is not one of the world's saddest tales, I know). Take Marie-Chantal, or MC, as her friends (and someone who prefers to type only 2 letters) call her. One of three daughters of  duty-free magnate Robert Miller, she married into the deposed Greek royal family in the 90s, and is...

Well hello, three people who read this blog! I haven't managed to post yet this month; thank goodness I get that extra leap year day... I was back in the Bahamas from the 9th to the 17th, without any TV, and just spotty Internet (and water and power). Naturally, after a relaxing, tropical vacation, one returns to a shit show- cold weather, traffic jams, fraught relationships, work deadlines... remind me again why I don't decamp to Eleuthera full time? Oh right, I work for my money.  Well, back at it tomorrow.  Still, I hope to find time to write something interesting or funny (or neither, but I try) over the next few days.  I am literally losing sleep over the US presidential elections, and need to find a way to become less obsessed with my disgust for all the GOP candidates.  Until then, here are some vacation shots, should anyone want to look at sunshine, blue sky and clear water. At least Donald Trump can't ruin that for me! Setting up shop at Rainbow B...

When my alarm on my iPhone went off this morning, I reached over to tap "snooze", like I do every weekday.  I saw the screen had a notification from The Guardian .  Another war or plane crash, I assumed.  I struggled to keep one eye open long enough to read "Singer David Bowie has died of cancer aged 69". Well, wasn't expecting that. It seems to have hit people really hard, myself included.  For selfish reasons, like losing a favourite singer, or a piece of one's childhood, but there was more to it than that.  Tributes from other musicians emphasize what a fine man he was, as well as an inimitable artist. David Bowie seemed immortal because he was so damn timeless, and such a shapeshifter.  He was kind of terrifying when I was a kid! To wit, his Saturday Night Live appearance in 1979: This  awesome video  of The Man Who Sold the World, where he had to be carried out in his costume, then his other look was this: That was a little stran...