Sometimes I have the TV on in the background while I work. After listening to music for a living for seven or so years, picking an album and listening all the way through can be daunting. The TV is sometimes the right companion for gettin’ er done. Today I turned on the Cartoon Network and one of my favorite epidodes of Scooby Doo was on, the one with the wax phantom. During the chase scene (and there is always a Scooby chase scene) the song “Pretty Mary Sunlight” came on. It was an AM radio hit in the days when AM radio was fading. Dear readers, I present to you “Pretty Mary Sunlight” by Jerry Reed. I especially enjoy the sound of Scooby brakes. Have a fine day. Zoinks!

My Mammaw died last week. She was 92. At her funeral she was recalled as an elegant lady, a wonderful seamstress and a lifelong volunteer. She was a small-town southerner who lived in San Francisco, New York City, Key West and Newfoundland.

When Mammaw attended my college graduation she wore a hot pink suit with matching shoes and a seal skin coat. She baked amazing little yeast rolls and would tote an orange Jell-O, pineapple and cottage cheese concoction to potlucks. She loved mountain walks and dogwood flowers. She had the most fantastic drawl and I miss it already.

Pants Off Dance Off - “Pancers” dance and strip; footage is aired atop a music video.
Fat Pets - On the same channel as the 800 lb. man.
Celebrity Rehab - Trainwrecks ‘r’ us.
Scarred - Every scar tells a story.

This year’s resolution: no more one-use disposable plastic water bottles. They make me feel wasteful and sometimes even guilty. Everyone knows they’re bad for the enviro but hello, revelation: water should not cost more than gasoline.

Last year’s resolution was to start carrying my own bags to the store. Most times I remember to tote them along (tote! bags! ha!). Mostly I use canvas bags from conferences — including South By Southwest 2003, which totally impressed a bag guy at Whole Paycheck.

No one’s mentioned the Hinano beer lady sticker on my Nalgene bottle but I smile when I see it. Some butt-insky told me that I should switch to one of those fancy-looking aluminum bottles (sometimes, San Francisco, I want to kick your ass). Apparently the Lexan plastic might maybe break down and be toxic and kill us all. Buying another bottle is against the idea of the reusable water vessel so as long as the seal’s good I’ll keep it old school.

Photo via Asian Elephant Art & Conservation Project

One of my new favorite things is the elephant painting I bought last year. It hangs over the fireplace. It’s abstract art uses negative space to great effect. It was painted by a 25-year-old elephant named Jintara who lives in Thailand with a monk.

The Asian Elephant Art & Conservation Project helps provide care for domesticated Asian elephants. Part of their mission is “promoting the paintings done by the elephants as a safe, creative alternative source of income to other activities many out-of-work elephants and their caretakers must resort to, such as illegal logging or begging for handouts on city streets.” To learn more about the plight of Asian elephants and why they need human help go here.

The artist bios on the site read like those at any other gallery, except these artists are elephants. One of the reasons I chose my piece is because Jintara, the artist, dances while she paints (pictured above). Some of the paintings are huge, perfect for loft-dwellers or startup offices. Because the organization is a nonprofit the purchase of a painting is tax deductible. It’s framed and matted and one day when it isn’t so dark in here I’ll share a photo of how awesome it looks.

In December this site turned five years old. I decided it was time to upgrade the blogging software. And, lookie what Ted got me for Christmas: WordPress install and blog switcheroo (awesome!). And for the first time ever on mgl dot com: comments! Stay sweet.

Moxie! After pining for years (seriously, I was starting to sound like one of those women who desperately wants a baby but can’t get knocked up) we finally got the green-light from our landlords and found a sweet puppy at the San Francisco SPCA.

Ireland was a spectacular trip. What a magical place.

The squash blossom pizza at Mozza in Los Angeles (where Ted & I had a whirlwind weekend) was the best thing I ate all year. Lawdy.

This year I’ve appreciated my friendships, maybe more than ever. And thank you, dear readers, for being here with me these past five years. Huzzah!

This entry could’ve been called “The Eight Days Of Pork.” I just got back from spending the holidays in Tennessee with my family and let me tell you, that state runs on pig. “When in Rome,” you know? I ate nine servings of swine in eight days. Tomorrow I begin my all-kale diet but for now let’s reminisce.

On Christmas Day I ate country ham with red-eye gravy at breakfast and honey-baked ham for dinner. Such excess is definitely a holiday treat but we laughed and ate it anyway.

I had ribs at a joint in Nashville and sausage for breakfast. The club sandwich at the Hermitage Hotel has bacon and country ham rounding out the lunchtime classic. One night I was feeling so porked I ate a salad — it had fried chicken on it.

Twice I ate pulled pork BBQ sandwiches, the last being at the airport on the way home. They don’t serve food on Southwest and a girl’s got to eat, y’all. I didn’t feel too gross until I read this entry. And I’m serious about the kale.