Cocktails with Bean

My dog, Bean, continues to grow more civilized as time passes. So it is with me too, I suppose. We both look to cultural conventions to help knock off our rough edges. Bean's latest nod to sophistication is the preprandial cocktail.

 My usual dinner-time routine is to feed Bean, start dinner for us humans, and after I've got things simmering, to build myself a martini. Regular readers will know that I prefer mine shaken vigorously with ice until my hand hurts from the cold. When I'm finished with the shaking and the martini is poured into a chilled glass, the cocktail shaker is full of melty ice cubes infused with a bit of gin and vermouth. Several weeks ago I started giving a few of these to Bean to enjoy while I'm sipping my drink. He loves ice cubes - always has - but this ritual sharing of well-chilled martini juice has apparently elevated his enjoyment to a whole new level.

My long passed cat, Russeau, who lived to be twenty, used to lick the olives in the bottom of my empty martini glass. I thought this curious when he first did it, but over time it became a bonding thing between us. I love olives myself, but I was willing to forego the pleasure of eating them in order to provide Russeau his own modest enjoyment. It's sad that Russeau and Bean never met. I think they would have enjoyed one another's company.

Anyway, the thing about Bean and the ice in the cocktail shaker is that now he is refusing to eat his dinner until he's had his cube-tini. He'll nibble around a bit, biding his time and checking on my progress, but he won't commit to the food in his bowl until I give him his ice. If he gets tired of waiting, he will go have a lie down until he hears the cocktail shaker rattling the call to mess. Then he gallops into the kitchen for his wee taste. Who'da thunk this possible? I don't know, but I gotta tell ya, it's just one more reason to love my dog.

Art Project

floating image inside bottle . . . so cool . . . and I made it!

I've been waiting approximately forever (maybe a year and a half) to get some commission work for my art. It's finally happened. While we were returning from the art show at my sister-in-law's house in Deland a couple of weeks ago, I got a call from an event planner in Miami wanting to know if I could duplicate one of my pieces that she had seen in my Etsy store, only using her images, to create centerpieces for a big 60th birthday party that she is doing.

Here's a picture of the piece that tickled her fancy . . . and that of her client. I call it Patron Cadillac. It's a 1954 Caddy on an empty Patron Silver tequila bottle. It looks pretty cool, if I do say so myself . . . and I do. You should too, because I know what the hell I'm talking about, and by now you should know that's true.

The neat thing about working with a commission client is that they challenge your processes trying to get exactly the effect that they want. The first thing that happened with these folks is that they thought, from looking at the pictures on Etsy, that the image was on the inside of the bottle. It is not. It is on the outside of the bottle, but when I realized that they wanted it to be on the inside because that's what they thought they were looking at, I had to figure out how to get it on the inside. So I did - because, you know, I'm kind of a genius when it comes to figuring out how to do obscure shit. Just saying.

Anyway, figuring that part out inspired me to take the concept several steps further. To that end I've got some ideas for interesting new stuff. Keep checking back, because whatever I come up with will be here first.

Holiday Madness

So it's been over a month since my last post here and that was a recipe for meatloaf, which let's face it, is kind of like cheating - unless you tried the meatloaf, of course, in which case you should be impressed enough with my kitchen skills to cut me some slack on the regularity of my blog posts.

Truth is I've been busy - something I never thought I would hear myself say again since I don't really have anything to do anymore except tinker, which by definition, is on my own terms and according to my own schedule, a flexible thing these days - certainly more flexible than I am in my advancing old age.

I did an art show in mid December at my sister-in-law's place in Deland, FL. I set up a tent in her back yard and displayed most of my stuff, hoping to sell some of it to the more discerning locals.

I actually did move a few pieces. That much was gratifying, although I didn't move nearly enough to justify the back-breaking effort required to load all that stuff up in a rented trailer and haul it 150 miles, then repack it and haul it all back.

There is a reason I never want to move again, and it's the very same reason that I really don't want to do another art show unless I can get a minion or two to do all the freaking work. Sitting in a director's chair in a tent and talking to people about my work is actually quite pleasant. Getting that work out on display so I can talk about it . . . not so much.

I did some more cooking over the holidays. My Christmas culinary triumph was bacon brittle. That's right, B A C O N  B R I T T L E. The name says everything you need to know about it except how to make it. That will remain my little secret . . . unless you buy my book. If you buy my book and send me an email telling me how much you enjoyed it (or didn't - I'm not particular in that regard) I will send you the recipe. If you put a good review up on Amazon or Smashwords or Goodreads, I will come over to your house and love on you. I realize that may not be a great incentive, but I'll be just that happy. I might even bring food.

Bulletnose: 24" x 36' x 1.5" gallery wrap canvas print