Saturday, February 17, 2007

Warning, contains profanity!

Isn't this a nice shot? I made a pile of stuff to sell on ebay one morning and decided to shoot these vintage glass findings inside this teacup before photographing them separately to sell. The past couple of weeks I have been focusing on business- new felt applique designs, selling more ebay stuff and keeping up with the hand embroideries even though I am trying to phase them out. I dropped a bunch off over at Artez'n and did a custom order today. It's a juggling act, that's for sure.

This is a sticky toffee pudding that came all the way from jolly old England! I saw the wonderful recipes in this month's Marta Stewart Living, and really wanted to try and make one for Valentine's day. The sticky toffee pudding sounded like the best and easiest to make. One day last week I was at Key Food and passed the shelf over by the deli that houses the English goodies. I always have to check it out to pick up some nice cookies or a can of Devon Cream to pour over my cereal in the morning (kidding, but not really). Imagine my surprise when I saw a collection of canned puddings! I had to have one. I didn't make it on V-day, but we enjoyed it a couple of nights earlier instead. I have to admit that the frosting was a let down. Not only was it rather gelatinous despite having been boiled inside the can for forty minutes, but it tasted quite tinny. The cake itself was moist and brown sugary and quite figgy. I can only give it one thumb up. You'd think I would know better considering it came in a can, but if there's one thing I've always coveted it's English desserts. When I was last in London I filled a small suitcase with packaged goodies from Mark's & Spencer. I had all kinds of little fondant covered cakes and marzipan filled cookies. They were all mind-blowing and like nothing I have found stateside unfortunately. For V-day we laid low since we agree that it's pretty much a Hallmark holiday. We also laid low because I fucked up and thought V-day was the previous day during which I procured and cooked a marinated flank steak, potatoes, and haricot verts with shallots and pepper. I also made my favorite chocolate cinnamon buttermilk cake. Even my little valentine got to eat a piece after his dinner. He pretty much gobbed down the frosting immediately and then threw the cake on the floor and screamed and held out his hand to indicate "MORE FROSTING RIGHT NOW PLEASE". Here is he enjoying his fudgey valentine goodness:

I did make Joe an awesome gift which I will photograph and post when it's finished. Yes, it was not completed on time, because I have yet to figure out how to manage my time. I embroidered a drawing that Joe made for me a few years ago, and I am going to sew the edges and back it with some patterned fabric inside a frame when the embroidery is done.
We've also had a rough ride recently with the landlord. I may have mentioned that I had to pay his Con Ed (electric) bill in January to prevent the lights in the hallway and the heat in the building from being shut off due to his negligence. I received a letter from Con Ed saying that by law I could pay the bill and deduct it from the rent. I left Landlord a message saying I would pay the bill unless he called me back and he never did (surprise surprise). When I paid the February rent I deducted it (almost $1,000) and included the bill. Well, he didn't take too kindly to my generosity. I got home from my friend's house last Friday and picked up the phone to hear Landlord muttering something vaguely obscene sounding. I honestly couldn't hear him at first. He's a chronic monotone mumbler, almost like a cross between land shark (classic SNL) and Frankenstein. "What?" I asked. And then he raised his voice so I could hear him crystal clear, "Give me my motherfucking money bitch or get the fuck out!" I froze, not being accustomed to people talking to me like this unless waiting for a subway. Like a maroon I said, "What?" for a second time. "Give me my motherfucking money or I'll call the cops and throw your ass out. I'm sick of you and your husband and all the motherfuckers in the building complaining. Give me my motherfucking money!" I hung up. I called 311 who connected me to the police and they came by within a few minutes (I guess it was a slow day). The officers told me that Landlord should be thanking me for paying his bill and that under no circumstances could he call them and have me thrown out. They also advised I put a deadbolt on the door since he's let himself in before. FF four days. Suddenly the apartment is freezing cold, particularly in the bedrooms where the baseboard heat no longer heats up despite the thermostat cranking up to 85. Our neighbors are having the same issue. Luckily the living room heat is on, although it doesn't go above 65. I had Joe leave Landlord three messages about the heat and needless to say he has not called back nor has anyone been by to fix the heat. I'm pretty tired of living here. We're going to Austin next Friday for Joe to take a teaching certification test and I'm looking forward to seeing all my old pals. I will post before then with some crafty goodness. For now, I'll leave you with one more cute Bub shot just in case my tale of harassment has gotten you down:


futuregirl said...

Oh. my. god. That sucks so bad. I'm so sorry that you are having to deal with that jackass. It sounds like you are doing the right thing, though. Don't let hi get the best of you. :) Still ... I feel so terrible for you.

Heather said...

Ugh, that sucks! Yeah, in my experience, unfortunately, deducting things from the rent never works all that well. Hope you guys are having fun in Texas... can totally see how New York might seem not that appealing by comparison right now.