Boots: Kick cruelty to the curb!

Just about everyone loves a good boot.  And these days, it seems like anything goes. Those slouchy 80s boots are wildly popular.  Flat-souled biker boots abound. Kicky ankle boots suitably sutstitute for pumps at fancy affiars. And well, classic cowboys boots never go out of style (or is that just my fettish?).

But for those of us who don't buy leather, boot shopping is a challenge that usually ends with disappointment. Well, perhaps that is no longer the case. I zipped around online and found that there are several new cruelty-free shops- and they've got loads of boots! And not just the unisex sensible hiking boot of the 1990s. These vegan beauties (or booties) run the gamut!

http://www.alternativeoutfitters.com/clothing/vegan/womens-boots.aspx

http://www.mooshoes.com/

http://www.vegetarian-shoes.co.uk/
http://www.toms.com/womens/wrap-boots?view=all
http://www.bboheme.com/

These are just a sampling of my favorites. The selection is really very extensive. Some are way less expensive than their leather counterparts, and others are far more expensive.From fancy-schmancy styles to everyday tramping around, there is a perfect vegan boot for every occasion. So- with all these fabulously fashionable options, can we please let this pretty girl keep her own skin?!

Writing... with creativity

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.

~Ray Bradbury

painting by gerard ter borch

I have to admit something... 

A secret that I have carried around with me for years. 

Here goes:

I have always thought of myself as a writer.

There I said it. What's the big deal, you ask? Well, I don't really write.

So... thinking of myself as a writer is really -- what's the word? -- lame.

But, in an attempt to not be so lame, and to make myself actually be the person I think I am, I've decided to write a story.  It has been years since I have even tried to write creatively. It is a very different beast from that which I have written over the last 10 years: academic papers, legal research, a handful of news and magazine articles, and an overly sentimental essay remembering a deceased family member. 

Not. One. Story. 

Until now! 

(Do you like my dramatic use of spacing and punctuation?! I am getting so creative already!)

I spent some time last summer traveling alone through England and Scotland. And, like all good tourists, I brought along a journal. I was totally prepared to soil the first few pages of the book with some trivial observation or account of something I did that day and then leave the rest blank, and then finally neglect the whole thing on my shelf at home (where so many travel journals have gone to die). But I didn't. I actually wrote! And I came up with the beginnings of a story that I have since been sorting out in my head.

But now I have the chance to put pen to paper (or fingers to keys...not nearly as cool a phrase) and WRITE.  Not just think about writing. Not just talk about writing. But really write!

I've done 11 pages (11 whole pages!) and it makes me feel a little high. And when I'm not feeling horribly stuck, I'm having a ball. I think it makes me happy. Who'd a thought that something I was into in high school would still be cool?

So, I'll keep you posted. I'm hoping there will be 11 more pages to boast about soon. (and then 11 after that, and.... well, you get the idea.)

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

and twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

in such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

-William Wordsworth

Sweet Crossstitch

In my new found love of needled crafts, I have stumbled upon crossstitch. Lovely, humble, folksy crossstitch! But they've come a long way since "Home Sweet Home" (although those possess a certain simple elegance of their own).  Nowadays you can buy all sorts of phrases stitched neatly on pillows and frames. I ran across "The Dude abides", "Looks like you've got  a case of the Mondays" and "I ♥ porn".

Those kitchy phrases are good for a laugh or two, but I am much more fond of crossstitched images-especially pretty, clear animal friends. Charming and sweet, like these:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/stitcherhood

http://www.etsy.com/shop/GeorgicaDesigns



Things to Look Forward to in March

1. Measure L is on the ballot (Go Public Libraries!)
2. Weekend in San Diego (for reals!)
3. Edwardian Ball
4. Saint Pawtrick's Day (shelter animal adoption extravaganza!)
5. Dinner and drinks out with B-day girl & the gang
6. Night in Lake Arrowhead with Matty, S & R
7. Sing-along night
8. Finish road scarf (finally!)
9. Run/walk my first 5K
10. Double date with K & J
11. Mexican dinner date night wit my boy
12. Barrister's Ball (possible but probably not)
13. Girl's happy hour with S & A
14. Shopping for a new digital camera
15. Burke Williams spa day
16. Patton Oswald comedy benefit for the Library
17. Hair cuts for me and Matt

Scottish Festival

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this post is worth 34,000 words.

Last Saturday Matt and I headed to our beloved Scotland for the day. Well, the closest thing we could get to it and still be home in time for dinner. We went to the Queen Mary's Umpteenth Annual Scottish Festival.  Tons of fun- food, games, shopping, drinking- all the good stuff! We got there just in time for the pipe & drum parade. There were over a dozen groups performing (I had no idea there were so many in the area!) The songs were great, the kilts even better.  And I loved how the drummers twirled their sticks!

 The performers were not the only folks dressed to the nines. Most visitors were donning some sort of Scottish trademark, from simple plaid scarves (like me) to full-fledged garb that would make William Wallace himself stand up and shout.  I fell in love with the little touches, like this snazzy combo:

Couldn't quite figure out this man's schtick- He stood on stilts, with tiny baby feet on the ends and shouted at passer-bys in a thick Scottish accent.  Good fun and interesting, from afar...

And there was shopping...several floors of it aboard the ship.   There were shops for kilts, and boots, and jewelry, and books, and pies, and art and musical instruments.... you name it. I wanted a stone cookie press, and Matty convinced me to hold off- I should take one lap around the whole thing and come back to buy it only if I still wanted it later.

Little did I know that the Scotch tasting was about to start, and Matt was heading us both to the boiler room- the big, dark, wonderfully spooky boiler room-

- to sample a dram (or 4) or aged single malt Scottish Whiskey.

The tasting was actually a lot of fun.  The guy in charge knew what he was talking about and we tried whiskeys from 4 different regions: Highlands, Lowlands, Islay and Speyside. Two of them were way too strong for me, but the lighter two were nice.  I can't remember what any of the names are or which regions I preferred... (maybe Matt, aka, Anonymous Nickname, can help me out on this one in the comments below!)

After our tasting, I insisted on browsing around and doing a bit of proper shopping. Not all three floors were only shopping--there was a dart tournament area, and a whole floor dedicated to all of the Scottish heritage groups in the area (different Clans I guess is how they distinguish themselves).  I was interested, but a little chicken to approach any of them and ask them to explain it all to me. Matt says they wouldn't have had me anyway... 'cuz they're the real deal... I'm not Scottish... at all. (yet).

Shopping was wonderful. There was all kinds of fun stuff, like massive weaponry and porcelain tea pots. I stuck to the lovelier things... like flower crowns! (I totally had these when I was young! I might still have one tucked away in a box somewhere at my parent's house.)

And books (nice collection of Robert Burns!)

And Matt did get me my cookie stone, because believe it or not, I still wanted it even after taking the time to think it over! Thanks darlin'! I'll make you some shortbread one of these days! (Those are them in the bottom left hand corner of the picture).

And I tried really hard to convince Matt to get himself a hat. Not this hat. A hat that he would have actually worn, that looked great on him! But he said he would have to wait... think it over. Buying a hat is nothing to rush into!

After we bought one more thing (an awesome tin whistle that is sooooo much fun to play) we headed back outside for more festivities. And lo and behold, there was more piping!

 This is just us in front of the ol' Queen.

The Highland Athletic Competition was going on in the other side of the park, so we headed that way to check out the scene. The weather made it a lot easier to pretend we were in Scotland.

Big blokes were tossing even bigger poles! It did not look easy...

And there was a sheep herding competition. The sheep were basically just chowing on the grass, and someone would bring their highly trained dog up to them and corral them into a little pen. Then, they let the sheep back out and they sat around and waited for the next doggie to come along.  The whole thing was strange, but it was also pretty impressive.  Matt just wanted to steal one of the dogs (he has a soft spot for smart dogs...I kinda like the dummies!)

Then, with a huge thunderous warning, it began to rain. Not little sprinkling rain, not even regular "wow-it's-really-coming-down" rain.  This was a "holy-sh*t- I've-never-seen-rain-like-this-outside-of-the-Amazon" kind of rain. So we ran under the cover of a tent (the bar, actually) and waited it out with the rest of the huddled masses.

We had no umbrellas (as in, I don't think we own any- they have disappeared!) but we weren't totally unprepared.  We wore our rain boots.  Mine even caught the eye of a man who had to be in his 80s. He thought they were pretty spiffy!

When the rain stopped- and it did, completely- we headed back toward the ship

And were greeted with a beautiful rainbow!

We stomped around outside and listened to a bit more...(you guessed it!) pipes and drums, and then headed back onboard to see the Highland Dance competition.

Which was fantastic, for about 5 minutes, and then I wanted out of there. It felt a lot like a dance "recital"-- lots of parents and camcorders and little girls getting their hair pulled back into buns... you know the drill. But I caught this little sailer in a moment of contemplation:

Matty, the man with the schedule, ushered us to the Observation Bar to listen to a musical performance. It was SUPER! The man's name is Alex Beaton and he's been playing his guitar and singing professionally for over 40 years.  He does all kinds of Scottish folk songs (Irish too, it seems) and some classics from these shores as well.  (We were all very emotional when he sang 'Puff the Magic Dragon' for a couple of little girls up front... after yelling at their mother for bringing little girls into a bar  ;)

Then he pulled me on stage and we sang a couple of duets.  OK, that's a lie. I just asked to have my picture with him after he finished up his set. But I did get his CD, so the next time I hear him live I'll be all ready to hop on stage and join him!

We stayed in the Observation Bar listening to music until the festival was over! But before we left, we took the self-guided tour of the Queen Mary.

We were the only ones on the "tour" and it got fookin' scary! This part was alright- I liked the old advertisements and Matt like the engine.

Especially when he could get close enough to play with all the levers and dials. (Which I am not sure we were supposed to do, now that I think of it... but like I said, we were alone in the belly of the ship!)

And I had to get the obligatory "Matt-go-grab-the-wheel-and-pretend-you're-steering" picture!

And since the ship was built in Scotland, it was a most appropriate location for the day's happy festivities.

THE END