Opinions & Musings

When There’s Smoke.

I’ve been dying to break open a jar of sea-salted caramel sauce that’s been waiting in the fridge.  Finally, the other night I winged it with whatever we had hanging around and came up with this: Baked apples filled with brown sugar, cranberries and nuts, served with french vanilla ice cream and a dollop of salted caramel sauce.  

 

I accidentally baked them a little too long and the brown sugar/apple goo boiled over all over the bottom of the oven.  But to my surprise they still turned out pretty yummy.

 

So why is that important?  Well, with all the yumminess going on I forgot all about the mess on the bottom of the oven until the following day…

 

I was cooking dinner when Mr. Heatherland got home.  He had just enough time to set his things down before I asked him, “Does it look a little smokey in here?“.  No sooner did the words come out of my mouth did the kitchen rapidly fill with smoke- From all that damn burnt apple-goo in the oven!

slight exaggeration.  (photo credit: flikr)

slight exaggeration. (photo credit: flikr)

All of the sudden our relaxing evening turned into me standing on a stool ….Waving a kitchen towel in front of a blaring smoke detector…. That happens to be hardwired into our neighbors homes too.  Nice.

 

When the smoke finally subsided and the air became breathable again, I salvaged our dinner- which we enjoyed with ringing ears and burning eyes, as the dismantled smoke detector laid lifeless on the coffee table.

 

I have promised to clean the oven before I use it again.  For real this time.

Color Me Flattered.

Ok, so let’s say you go to your stylist, faithfully, every month or so, and then poof!…. she’s gone.  And no one knows where she is.  Or in some cases, no one will tell you where she is.

 

Well, this happens all the time- in fact, I turned into one of those stylists.  A couple years ago I did it to all my clients in California when I moved to Massachusetts, and a couple months ago I did it to my clients in Boston when I moved up to Newburyport.

photo credit: pinterest

photo credit: pinterest

Sadly losing great clients is a casualty of each move, and I fully expected never see any clients from Boston ever again.  But each week that goes by, I am blown away by the women that find me, google me, email me, or just book an appointment and show up.

 

Besides being insanely flattered that these clients are making an hour long drive to see me, I am also realizing that it’s so much more than just a hair appointment.  For my clients, it’s about having a good time in a great atmosphere, with someone that values you- and happens to give you great hair.  For me, it’s reinforcing how much I love what I do.

 

And thank goodness for Google, Facebook, and Instagram!

Bird Is The Word.

I like to think I am a pretty gifted gal- among other skills- it appears I have the uncanny ability to attract birds… More specifically, seagulls.

 

Within minutes of sitting on the beach, in a park, or wherever, these damn birds flock to me. And in return, I have a “call” or a “coo” that I make to them. It’s my stupid-human-trick; and it usually seems to scare the crap out of them.

Recently we took a coastal walk in Point Lobos, Ca. and as if on cue, this seagull flew over. Mr. Heatherland encouraged me to try to make friends with it by doing my little birdy call…

 

Judging by the pictures, I am just as cautious around birds as I would be around bears.

 

*No seagulls were harmed in the making of this post.

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