Joe Watchers.

I've been wanting to write this post for awhile, and as I pack a pile of vintage bathing suit for vacation, it seems appropriate.  I wear vintage bathing suits because they are cut really well for a curvy girl - fitted bust cups, little skirts that nestle the tops of your thighs...let me repeat that.  I am a curvy girl.  40-35-44 to be exact.


Let me start by saying that I do not have body image issues, I just never have.  I have been much thinner than I am right now, and I have been larger.  I love my curves, my husband loves my curves, and I know how to dress my curves.  I think it goes without saying that it doesn't matter how thin you are, how much money you have, how many "things" you have...this does not define who you are nor does it determine one's happiness.  Shout this to your pre-pubescent and teenage daughters!!

But, we all get in eating ruts, and sometimes we need a good smack on the ass to make some healthy lifestyle changes.  When I got a little local food movement obsessed this spring, I started talking crazy talk about joining Weight Watchers to shed a few pounds.  I say "crazy talk," because my adoring husband can not fathom the concept of paying someone to weigh you each week.  (Full Disclosure:  I have done weight watchers, I love weight watchers).  But Joe asked me to try something different this time, a serious family lifestyle change.

And so, I joined Joe Watchers.

It's no secret that Joe does most of the cooking.  He is a phenomenal chef, and has learned in some of the best kitchens in town.  He, like my friend Allison, just has a knack for making something out of nothing, for knowing how ingredients can make magic together.  So, on Joe Watchers, Joe makes the meals.

My first obstacle was to stop over-indulging.  I crave good food.  My friends are foodies and chefs.  There is never a shortage of decadent cheeses, cream sauces, or luscious desserts to be had.  I had to face the hard truth that Zingermann's Roadhouse is NOT one of the five food groups (I was just as shocked as you are ladies!).  I just had to reign it in folks, the good old 80/20 rule.  Eat what you should 80% of the time, and what you want 20%.  And that certainly hasn't been difficult this time of year.  Our sweet new forever friends down the road drop off succulent bags of organic greens, kale, swiss chard, and kohlrabi from their farm, the raspberries are dripping off of our bushes, and our egg yolks are a deep rich orange.

And, it has been working.  With some good old sweaty farm work thrown in for good measure, I have tightened my belt a few notches and am ready for a little vacay.  My parents, sister's family, and her in laws pulled into the farm today for a big family dinner before we all head up north for a week.  We had a perfect meal of bbq pork on the grill, freshly shelled sweet peas, a medley of swiss chard and kale sautéed in bacon grease (80/20 right?), sweet corn, and salad picked from the garden with homemade croutons and Joe's famous vinaigrette.  Followed in short order by freshly picked rhubarb raspberry crisp with fresh whipped cream.  Pancakes, fresh berries, and sausage from last fall's hog in the morning before we set out on our adventure.  We will all be camping out here for the week (ok, I use the word camping kind of loosely :)).

Bottom line?  Love your self and your body.  Put good local food into your body...so that you can go up north and eat fish and chips for a week and not feel guilty ;).

Mamma prepping for dinner.  Have I mentioned how I adore my kitchen?  I could, and do, stand at that counter for hours.

The men taking the requisite walk through of the farm, you know, just to check things out :).  Joe was having a "white jeans" kind of day.

The ladies lounging on Grandma Rosie's beautiful porch furniture after a successful reupholstering effort!

Did I mention we live at the end of the rainbow?

Signing off for the week.  My toes will be buried in the sugary sands of Lake Michigan...15% off anything in the shop whilst I'm gone, coupon code UPNORTH   ;).

Take Me to Tupelo.

This was not the intended post for today, but radio inspiration hit me as I drove the back roads home today...so sit back and let me tell you a little story...

When Joe and I met is was a furious and fast mess of love.  Week one? Joe traded the very talented Adam Forman a pair of lederhosen for our matching tattoos.  Week two?  Road trip to Tupelo.

We got in the car after work on a friday in Detroit, and headed south.  We drove through Nashville as the bars were about to close and strolled though town, enjoying country music and last calls.  We pulled into Tupelo at sunrise, green fields stretched out on either side of a long road.  We got two cups of coffee and watched the day dawn sitting on the porch steps of Elvis' boyhood home, just the two of us.

We got to town just in time for a weekend jam packed with Elvis fest, seedy hotel rooms, and barbecue till we dropped.  We were there in particular to see Paul Thorn (aside from Elvis, Tupelo's other native son).  We danced and loved, and the as they say...the rest is history folks.

As I drove home today Paul was live on the radio, as he is doing a show at The Ark tonight.  No one can melt me with a good southern drawl like he can, and it was a flood of sweet, sweet memories as I turned up the radio and sang along.  Thank you Mr. Thorn...xoxo, e.  Listen here or here to a little ditty while you gaze at that good lookin' man.

More tomorrow...I have to pack for vacation!!!

Like a Young Stag...Happy Four Year JoJo Buns.

"My love is like a gazelle, like a young stag."  Song of Songs.  This was how our marriage began.  This was the first reading at our wedding mass.  Fr. Marty was never disappointed in our marriage prep courses....Joe and I are full of surprises and sordid pasts.  He would always take off his glasses, look from one of us to the other, and laugh, like, "are you two kidding me with this stuff?"  He was so happy when we chose this as one of the readings, because he said that Joe reminded him of a leaping gazelle, of a young stag.  In the middle of our ceremony, the unity candle blew out (the doors were open people...just a breeze, not an omen), and Joe leaped from his seat, ran across the alter, pulled out his lighter, and re lit it.  And Fr. Marty looked at me and mouthed the words "Like a leaping gazelle!"  We sat in front of him at church last weekend, and it was the same look, from me to Joe, and a big smile...4 years later.

It was a beautiful day in June.  After a night full of thunderstorms, the morning broke clear.  All of my busy little bee family members went to work early at the wedding site, a lovely wooded area next to my aunt's house, making every last detail perfect.  After months of planning, making, crafting, and preparing for the big day, it had come.

And, it was glorious.  A garden party to beat all garden parties.  The guests all walked from church to the reception, like our very own beautiful wedding parade.  Judy and Ella sang splendidly in the background, and polish food filled our plates and our bellies.  There were flowers and people we loved everywhere...it was truly a magical day.

Why do we look like we are 14 here?  This was only four years ago, I swear.

Spoiler alert...Coco was our flower girl.  Do the math.

She was 2 at the wedding, my absolutely favorite age when their teeth are too little for their faces.  It is crazy how she looks like a cherubic little scrunched up version of herself.  Love her.

She carried our rings up the aisle on a perfect little bird's nest.  Then after a few minutes yelled out "Maybe grandpa has my binky," and ran off the alter and passed out on my cousin's lap.  God love her.

The choir that I have sung in since grade school sang a rousing 

Hallelujah Chorus as we exited.  No joke.

On to the party!

Everyone ate off of different vintage china settings that we thrifted and hunted garage sales for.  

We ate off of my grandmother's setting :).

Perfect little vignettes set up though out the property...so perfect.

Carolyn's handmade soaps carefully wrapped for the guests!

My sister sat and painstakingly decorated a lot of cupcakes....thanks Becca!

My beautiful sister...xoxo.

Look at all these pretty people!  Surrounded by love.

What's a garden party without s few good hats?

I love and appreciate my parents beyond words.

The children patiently waiting for the band (Scotty Karate) to take the stage!

The minute Coco got to the reception, someone handed her an orange pop.  Because that's what you give a two year old.  So, we have no pics of her at the reception without the 

huge orange pop stain on her cream shirt ;).  

That look just melts me.

Well ladies and gents, the appropriate presents for year four are linen, lace, fruit, and flowers...and since it will probably take all day for my beautiful
husband to make good on these gifts...we better go get started.  Happy Anniversary Sugar!

Gone Fishin'.

And this, good people, is why we live in Michigan.  Because after only a five minute drive from the house, nestled in the sweet succulent woods of Chelsea, is Riker Lake.

Uncle Scotty Karate and his family own a heavenly piece of the land, giving us a parking spot and a boat, always waiting.  For so many years Joe has brought me here...first just the two of us, then a toddler done up is sunglasses and life jacket in tow.  Without fail she always gets the first catch on her Dora the Explorer rod, yelling excitedly "bobber down!!".   Usually a small little crappie, known affectionately as "John Sniff."  (When Coco was little she called all the little fish that we caught John Sniff (John Smith in toddler talk...she was watching a lot of Pocahontas in those days, don't judge)).

Each time we go out, I am astonished that we are the only people on the lake.  Pure, unadulterated, quiet.  Cranes and ducks flying overhead, little turtles peeking their heads out of the water...magic.  A few snacks on the boat, because fishing makes you hungry.  But really, this post is about the pictures, so let's get on with it already!

That's my girl - Never one to miss an opportunity to pose.

This is always my view heading out into the lake (Exception:  The summer that I was training for the triathlon, Joe would make me row out to the other side of the lake, jump off, and swim back.  True story.)

Reelin' it in!!

:(  Only a John Sniff.

Uterus cloud on the horizon.  I'm never one to pass up on a good fertility omen!

And here's to a summer full of fishing and fertility!