Frames And Layers

This evening I headed over to Capitol Hill to get a mat for an Etsy print I needed framed. It was a great experience - the gentleman helping me, DJ, was quiet and intelligent, but also enthusiastic about the choices I made. He loved the frame, which was clearly inexpensive and from Target (and yeah, me and my big mouth, I totally told him that's where it was from in a weird confessional way), and thought it looked great with the mat color I picked. It was such a good experience, and so inexpensive, that I decided to get another print framed. This one was small, but such an odd shape that I hadn't had any luck finding a frame that could work. So I selected a simple white, wood frame, and a mat that complimented the image, and plain glass.

$70, and I'm assembling it myself.

I knew framing was expensive, but wow! But, also wow - what a great trade to learn. You need space, and specialized equipment, but if I could learn how to do that, that would make a great Plan B. Have you seen this article that's making the rounds right now, from the New York Times? It's called "The Case For Working With Your Hands." I like to think that's not something I've ever needed convincing about, that I've always valued work, and trades[wo]men. If it was ever something I was elitist about, all traces of snobbery have disappeared since dating Cam. He's always made his living as a mechanic of sorts - he's worked on cars, motorcycles, and boats, and now, on hydrogen generators. He's got more career mobility than I'll ever have, and I really admire the knowledge he picks up along the way and how he's constantly building upon that base, and using it to solve new problems. Everyone does that to a degree, of course, but nothing I do gets our DirecTV wired through the air ducts*. Cam took one look at where the TV needed to be mounted, and where the cables came through, and made it happen.

I have said for a long time that building and decorating cakes for Baskin-Robbins was quite possibly my favorite job. I learned a ton, and I've recently been chipping the rust off those old skills, baking cakes for friends. So far, so good, and I'd be lying if I said I'd never entertained the idea of chucking my career (after much more practice, of course) and hanging out my shingle as a baker.

Dipping my baby toe into the world of framing, though, gave me another idea (a fantasy, really). How cool would it be to apprentice with a framer, then open up a shop? I love the design aspect, of picking the right mat and frame and detail for a picture. But as appealing as that all sounds, I'm equally intrigued by the tools of the trade, necessary for cutting wood and fitting corners and sizing glass.

I'm not really someone who has dreams about what I'm going to be when I grow up. Gross as it sounds, I already got what I wanted. I got - and have - my dream job. But lately, I'm starting to get glimpses of what my next life could be like. It's a relief, really, because between getting said dream job and now, I've been a little worried about the "what next," about how to have goals and dreams when I got what I really wanted at 25. How exciting to see there's still a path ahead of me.

*On a side note, there was one home problem I should have been well-equipped to solve, and I failed miserably: wiring my record player to play through my stereo. I carefully plugged everything in, from turntable to preamp and out of the preamp into the stereo... And it sounded AWFUL. Distorted and loud and just dirty. I should have realized hey, it sounds like this is double-amplified, a problem I know how to solve when dealing with my recording equipment for work, but nope. I got a new stylus, Cam and I grounded the crap out of every stage of the setup even though it didn't sound like a grounding issue, and I even got a new, fancier preamp in case that was the issue. And then I turned to my genius friends, the audio engineers. They all thought of the same question instantly: "Hey, is there a preamp already built in to the record player?" Duh. Yes. So now I have not one, but two useless preamps. But hey, I can listen to my vinyl again!

Porch Gazing

Delighted as I am to have a sweet express bus that takes me from work to home, I really love to Metro to the stop nearest to my place, then walk the remaining mile or so. It's a great walk through neighborhoods and parks, and it's so uniquely D.C. It defies easy categorization - it's very much the city, as every part of my route is just blocks from a major commercial road dotted with bodegas and liquor stores. Garbage collects in the gutters, and buses barrel through. But the on my route I pass houses, some in rows of 3 or 6, some linked for entire blocks, and many stand freely. Today there were spring flowers everywhere - daffodils in bright bunches, forsythia exploding along fences, and whatever that bush is that grows more vertically than forsythia, but in branches like forsythia, and has blushing reddish flowers. Gorgeous.

Someday I will have a house, and my house will have a front porch. The ceiling of that porch will be painted some beautiful color. I've loved that bit of unexpected color since college, when I first walked onto my friend Erica's porch and looked up to see a periwinkle "sky." Today I saw a rainbow of porch ceilings- pine green, sky blue, a bright yellow, a lot of brick red. But my favorite was this unbelievable super-saturated rose color. I'd never have picked it, but it made my heart skip a little. Sign of a good color, I'd say. And I bet it looks beautiful in the evening, sun setting and candles lit.

julie, julia, potatoes, and leeks

like zillions of people before me, i'm sure, digging into Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen inspired me to cook. specifically, all i have been able to think about since i started the book two days ago is julia childs' potage parmentier, or potato soup. it's the first recipe in the first book julie ever wrote, as julie notes, and it's dead easy. so, tonight, potato and leek soup, plus buttermilk chive biscuits courtesy of smitten kitchen, and benton's prosciutto. simple, satisfying, and unbelievably delicious. dicing potatoes, slicing leeks (my first!), salting and simmering, immersion blending, butter melting, sipping. perfection. thank you, julie and julia.

i don't intend to cook my way through the legendary tome, like julie did, but it has piqued my interest in blogging with a purpose, setting an impossible goal and charting its progress, warts and all. cam and i have hatched a plan. it's a 5-year (or so) plan, but if we can get the right people to collaborate (one's already signed on, one's thinking about it, and one's oblivious but should be a cinch), it could be pretty great. it's colossal, life-changing, and possibly life-making. it's also just a pipe dream, for now...