Dog Grooming 101

I can officially add dog-groomer to my list of marketable characteristics.  One day, I am going to be folding laundry and hear a knock at the front door, and there will be a short, smiling man in a pin-stripe suit there to deliver me an award for being the woman who holds the record for the most Short-lived Hobbies on Earth. I am imagining a Publisher’s Clearinghouse-esque experience. It’s going to be great.

On my lunch break today, I decided to go buy a complete dog grooming kit and then spend this evening experimenting on Sam.

Sam is a Springer Spaniel, nearly 6 years old, and quirky and full of personality. His facial expressions are unreal. I swear one day he is going to open up his mouth and just start talking to me about what he sniffed in the backyard that morning, like he’s been talking all his life.  I already know what his voice would sound like and everything.

If I had a single complaint about the little guy, it would be that he sheds more than should be caninely possible.  With all the fur I vacuum up on a weekly basis, I don’t know how he isn’t bald.  Sam is phobic of vacuum cleaners, so he is tortured regularly.  As soon as I open the hall closet where we keep the vacuum, he barrels out of the room where he happens to be snoozing, with a panicked expression on his face and shoots like a bullet out of his doggy door into the safety of his backyard until I am done.  The other day it was raining, and that silly dog preferred to sit outside in the pouring rain than to be trapped inside with the humming monster.  I told him that if he didn’t shed so much, I wouldn’t have to pull out the Death Device so often!  He just blew a big puff of air through his nose and turned his head away. He’s telling me that he can’t help it.

We have tried just about everything to curb the shedding- the "furminator", undercoat brushes, normal brushes, shedding mitts, special shampoos and potions, weekly baths, and even “shed-reducing” pills that I am sure were a scam.  Nothing works.  The only thing that reduces the amount of fur he is shedding is for us to keep his hair cut really short.

Well, I am tired of forking over $60 to the dog-groomer every month for her to spend 15 minutes shaving him down with an electric razor while she watches Days of Our Lives.  His haircuts cost more than mine, and he doesn’t get side-swept bangs or anything.  How hard can grooming a dog be?  My math works out that spending $50 on a dog grooming kit will pay for itself after approximately 12.5 minutes of use. Now, that is a deal that I can handle.

Here is Sam's before picture:

This evening, I discovered that the dog-groomer is definitely getting an entire episode of Days, and perhaps some Young & The Restless in, while she trims him up. Grooming a dog is way time consuming.  

Two hours later, sweating and completely covered and itching (and I mean, COVERED) in dog hair, we are through.

Sam's After Picture:

David helped me with his ears-- we played the game of "a little more on the left... now, a little more on the right." Getting them even was difficult, so now they are about 6 inches shorter than the before picture. Sam doesn't seem to mind though.

Now, I know that Sam's new 'do is not a professional job. The pictures actually make it look much more even and smooth than it really is. I now realize that dog-groomers are licensed for a reason. However, I figure with all the money I am saving by butchering my dog's fur coat each month, I'll have enough saved up for the Frye boots I've been eyeing by November.
       

Tilapia Surprise!

Admittedly, I am not a Rachel Ray fan.  I think most of her recipes are far-reaching and questionable. Take for example her “Cheddar-Crusted Chicken with Smooshy Applesauce.” Growing up, if my mom started glopping piles of smooshy on my dinner plate, I would have taken to showing up at the neighbors every night at dinner time.  I just have my doubts about that woman.  I mean, she has a line of dog-treats now… coincidence? I’ll let you decide.

The story goes something like this. Last fall, I am at Books-A-Million buying our latest book club pick (I had not yet joined the Nook-dom), and the checkout lady asks “Would you like to try 3 months of any of these two magazines for free?” She pulls out a glossy pamphlet and showcases several magazines.  I am a sucker for anything that has the word “free” associated with it (usually with no regards to the fine print), so I say “OFCOURSE!” I choose Southern Living and….. well, the other options were slim. I thought about getting ESPN Magazine for David, but then spied Rachel Ray's Everyday at the bottom.  Apparently, I had a lapse in judgment and blurted out “And… Rachel Ray's Everyday.” What?  When I left Books-A-Million, I was kicking myself for ruining my opportunity at my free 2nd magazine.

The first Rachel Ray Everyday issue arrived in my mailbox, and I decided to take the time to sit down, peruse it, and give old Rach a fighting chance.  The magazine was fine- a tad underwhelming.  Not really my style, but well-organized and full of helpful tips and recipes for her loyal 30-minute mealers. But o yes, I do recall there was a 30 minute wing recipe that called for dipping the wings in lemon jello mix. That may be her grossest recipe yet.

I did call the cancellation # on the back of the glossy pamphlet and ensure that any further issues would not arrive after the free subscription ended.  However, I ripped one recipe out of the magazine and shoved it into the back pocket of my recipe binder to be forgotten about, until this Sunday.

I try to cook every night for David and me, sans Friday & Saturday.  Sometimes it’s as simple as grilling a couple of chicken breasts with some roasted asparagus and brown rice on the side, but I attempt to crank out something decent (and relatively healthy) 4-5 nights a week.  I mix in a new recipe each week or two to keep it interesting- and mainly, because I love to cook and try new things.  This Sunday afternoon, I was browsing through my recipe binder and found the long-forgotten Rachel Ray recipe…

Grilled Fish with Moroccan Chermoula Sauce and Zucchini Cous-Cous.
A) Sounds healthy and unique, B) Rachel claims you can whip it up in 30 minutes or less, and C) Fresh Tilapia filets were on sale at the grocery. Monday Night Dinner Winner.

Foodie Fact: Moroccan cuisine is usually seasoned with lovely flavors such as sesame, saffron, mint, lemon, ginger, cumin, paprika, and cinnamon.  The Chermoula sauce is simply a marinade that is a combination of several spices/herbs. 

This particular sauce was pulsed in the food processor with EVOO and red chiles, garlic, mint, cilantro, flat-leaf parsley, smoked paprika, cumin, coriander, and lemon to form a paste.  My outcome was more like an actual sauce than a paste, but it was still rather tasty.  The chile added a nice kick to it, but the cilantro and lemon were refreshing.

David and I were both pleasantly surprised with this recipe.  I think it actually took me longer than 30 minutes to make due in part to a storm that decided to burst as we were about to put the fish on the grill. But it probably would have taken longer than 30 minutes anyway-- I am a bit slow in the kitchen (I prefer to call it methodical).

I don’t know if this dish turned me into a Rachel Ray believer, but I do give her credit on this one… The recipe went back into the binder and I’ll be making it again soon.

 If you want to try this recipe, here’s the link on her website:
Grilled Fish with Moroccan Chermoula Sauce & Zucchini Cous-Cous

Recipe Notes: I used tilapia, but you can use any white fish. Also, the recipe calls to season the fish with Old Bay, which I thought was really odd considering the other ingredients, so I used kosher salt & freshly ground peper with a dash of chile powder.  It turned out fine because the sauce is nice and powerful.  Lastly, I had some extra zucchini, so I roasted it in the oven and threw it on the side.

Enjoy!

Ohhhh Monday.

O Man. Monday. I am feeling less than inspired today.
Let’s just be honest here. Mondays are my least favorite day of the week. I know that this does not place me in some distinguished category by myself, because if there was a day of the week to hate, I would place my bets that 99.8% of the population would agree with me.  The other 0.02% probably hate Sunday the most because after Sunday… comes Monday.

The only thing keeping me from calling it a day and heading home for an afternoon on the couch with my gals Giada & Ina and a weighty bowl of cherry chocolate chip ice cream (which I have been daydreaming about since approximately 9:05 am this morning as soon as I finished my fat-free cottage cheese) is a) I think there may be something in my employer's Code of Conduct manual advising against impromptu Personal days, and b) there was the slightest tinge of Fall in the air this morning which put a little bit of pep in my step all morning long.

However, when I walked outside to enjoy my glorious 60 minutes of noontime bliss, I was met by a blast of humid 95 degree heat that felt similar to opening a hot oven and having your lashes curl all the way back to your eyelids. So much for Fall making her grand entrance.  Now it's just a hot summer Monday again.

I absolutely love Autumn as much as I absolutely loathe Mondays. So if you combine the two, Mondays in the Fall come out about on par.  And since it’s not quite Fall yet, but I can feel her inching this way, it gives me something to look forward to and makes the first and worst workday of the week a little more bearable.

So to help us all through this most agonizing weekday, here's some Autumn inspiration. She'll be here before we know it!

  

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Chapter 1

My life is truly blessed.  I am so thankful for all that goes noticed (and taken for granted) in my daily life.  I am surrounded by the most impressive crowd of family & friends a gal could ask for.  They say it takes a village, and I can name so many who have helped mold me into who I am sitting here today.

I have a wonderful husband, David, of 6 months.  He is my best friend in the entire world- he makes me strive to be better in everything I do (including finishing projects :)  We are quite the pair and always have the absolute best time together.  Tonight, he's taking me out to dinner. What a guy!

My cousin Taylor's Rehearsal Dinner

And then of course, I can't forget our canine son, Sam- the most handsome dog you've ever ever seen!

Sam's 3rd Birthday (he is almost 6 now)

Here are a few more pictures of those near and dear to me... though this is barely scratching the surface!

Mom, Dad, and brother, Dan, at Dan's graduation from USC

Nanna & Papa

Cousins Galore!

Best Friends from Clemson

Best Friends since Forever!

Happy Friday!



Prologue

Disclaimer. I find blogs to be incredibly self-indulgent. I must be feeling the urge to indulge myself a little these days because the loud-mouth twenty-something who never hesitated to bash blogs, just fumbled around on the internet for the past 4 hours figuring out how to create one. Blog basher- it has a nice ring to it. Or shall I say had?

Also, I just learned the term blogosphere today. Really. So here's to joining the Blogosphere!

This is a story about what goes on under the orange roof of our humble home on the Avenue.  I will save my story of the orange roof for another day. Then once you satisfy your curiosity, you can stop reading. Or continue.  I won't disclose what Avenue I live on because who knows what crackbrains reside in the Blogosphere (new vocab word!), but I can assure you it is not THE Avenue. As in the Most-Expensive-Street-In-The-World, my personal dreamland, shopping mecca of the Universe, 5th Avenue. But I am sure that goes without saying because I can guarantee you that no proper resident of 5th Avenue would be caught with a doo-doo orange roof.  Ghastly. No Sirree Bob.  Anyway, Our Avenue is a short street in a drowsy Southern city. Comfortable, but not incredibly thrilling by my standards. But it's home. It's our Avenue- the Avenue.

My main purpose in undertaking the task of a blog is to share a bit about myself, my family & friends, my frivolous ideas, and the many, many projects that I start (but usually never finish).  Basically, it's all about me. (Remember the self-indulgent disclaimer at the beginning of this post?) My curiosities and pastimes are like vagabonds-- floating around aimlessly in my mind.  Every so often, one will come knocking on the Motivated Lobe of my brain and I will take him under my wing-- coddle and nurture him, before kicking him back out into the jungle of my mind. Then it's on to the next thing. I think they should call it Recreational ADD.  Now with my brand spankin' new blog (which, with my track record and attention span, may only last a few weeks), I have a way to document my self-diagnosed disorder so the researchers one day have a full account of the symptoms and effects of R.A.D.D.

That's all for today. Stay tuned...