If happiness was made out of Durum Wheat...

It would look like this.

This picture is c/o the Julia Giada Project

It might look insignificant to you, but friends, there is a reason why Tuscany is such a joyous place.  Now I am not saying it is ONLY because Pipe Rigate is one of the most popular kinds of pasta, but it can't hurt.

We say we love pasta.  I love pasta.  But pasta is a portal for sauce.  And my dear friends and readers, a more perfect portal has never been created than my beloved Pipe Rigate.  It's like a jumbo macaroni that is pinched on one end.  It means that your sauce doesn't have to be pastey to stick to the noodles.  Each noodle is like an edible spoon filled -- like ravioli without the labor, hassle or extra dough.  For three years, I have been searching for my beloved pasta in vain.

Until this week.

The Future Mr. Two and I were at Whole Paycheck Foods picking up some basil (which, by the way, came with six leaves of the stuff for a buck fifty,  SUCH a ripoff...) and for kicks, we walked down the pasta isle.  There, on sale for a buck 99 or 1.50 -- I forget, I saw them:  Their golden curls, puckered on one end, waiting for me to take them home.  We bought 4 boxes.  I am going to get more today.  I am so happy.  I hope they are here to stay.  And in the mean time, ASK your grocer to stock them.  They will be your favorite.  They will be your children's favorite.  It will be like having a little bit of Tuscany right in your cupboard. And who wouldn't want that? 

Look for a scrumdidlyumptious recipe soon!

A few birthday highlights....

These flowers:

Surprise delivery from beloved long-distance bestie!

This nail polish:



It's called Trophy Wife.  Thanks, Lulu!

This date:

Best seats in the house and one of Placido Domingo's very last appearances with the WNO. Gorgeous/awesome/bittersweet.

This girls' night:


The company was even more delicious than the Chef's Tasting Menu... Which was totally mind-blowing

This painting:

Actually, it was the Princess asking if this was Mona Lisa's sister that made my day :-)

This event:

Favorite Chef-lebrities cooking up a storm at the local market?  Yes, please!

This cowgirl:

If the weekend was any indicator of the fabulosity of the year ahead, growing older is just fine with me!  Thank you thank you for all the birthday love.  I really do feel like the luckiest girl 31-year-old in the world.

One

It's One's Birthday!

And while I was planning to write a little ditty in her honor, I think Marvin Hamlisch has a pretty good grasp on our feelings about our beloved big sister.  She brings so much joy into each of our lives, and we are forever grateful to have her as our mentor, leader, and friend.  We couldn't have asked for a better example

One, you're the tops!

Is You Korean?

5 Things I've Learned in Korea

5. The people here are nice and attractive. . . like Asian Canadians

4. Weddings are cooler here (screw bouquets -- they have live chickens!)

3. You can't get fat off of noodles.

3. You can get fat off of tempura fried noodles and donut substitutes.

3. Boppitybipinboop is delicious

2. Even when preserved in formaldehyde for a long time, rabbits are cute (in a VERY disconcerting, possibly scarring sort of way)

1. I am agree

C&N's Korean Wedding!

Momo, Five, Brother Z and I are all in Korea to celebrate Brother C's marriage (which happened in the states last summer) to the delightsome Narnia (Mimo's affectionate term for his wifey--and what we'll refer to her as on the blog). Though there was pomp surrounding the initial marriage, nothing can compare to the event we witnessed on Sunday. The traditional Korean wedding was spectacular! Narnia looked like a princess, Brother C exhibited his mastery of kowtowing (which resulted in many ooh and ahs from the audience), and--the pièce de résistance, in my view at least--they threw two, live chickens into the arms of a five year old boy. 

It was

 AMAZING!  

Just right...

I am continually disheartened by the lack of fabric in clothing (meaning it's too short, too low, too whatever or just ugly).  Hence, I'm always on the prowl for attractive, stylish, appropriate clothes.

Here are some thing I would like to wear...
  

Clean lines and modern Dianne Von Furstenberg

So adorable. Yves Saint Laurent

I want to find something like this in a thrift store.  St. John

Not in my price range (at all) but I LOVE these pants by Jason Wu

More in my price range, walking shorts by Anne Taylor.

 

Cape by Stella McCartney, Shirt by Vanessa Bruno, Belt by Mango, Skirt by Alice by Temperly, Rain boots by Hunter

So when in doubt, get the option that bares less and you'll be a lot less embarrassed when you look at your facebook pictures in a year or three.    

You can see some of my favorite things here.

My favorite "stores" are my mom's and grandma's give aways.  It's vintage.  It (usually) fits and it's free. In one word, awesome.

Woozy for Druzy

Maybe it's because we found out that we are part Druz, but I love druzy and I think every girl should own it.  It comes in a rainbow of colors.  It's easy to mine and environmentally sustainable.  It sparkles like a million and one perfectly cut diamonds.  No two are ever the same. You can get in for as little as 10 or 15 dollars at a street fair.  It is just perhaps the perfect stone.

Though not the cheapest options, here are a few I think are exceptionally pretty.

 

Yellow druzy.  I love this.

Gold Druzy. I also love this.

By Hazel and Harlow, I love how organic this one looks.

By Marry Me, these crystals make me melt!

A black druzy set in silver

This Mexican druzy is 7 dollars and SO pretty!

Until I get a druzy ring, I am pretty happy with the one The Future Mr. Two gave me!

Half-full....

If you were to ask me how my weekend went, I would say it was dreamy.  And I would mean it.  Friday Mr. One took the family to a cute little pizza place on the other side of town. I spent Saturday at a lovely baby shower for a dear old friend.  Mr. One not only babysat BOTH children, he took them to a street festival and dressed the Princess in adorable ethnic garb.  Church on Sunday was particularly nice, and we snuck out a bit early to go to a beautiful garden party with a bunch of old colleagues.  Dreamy, right?

...And then I might remember that our family pizza date ended with a looooong Metro ride home, (since I lost my car keys, which are still -- and probably will remain forever -- missing).  And that all the tourists were giving us the stinkeye for having our kids out that late.  And then, on Sunday afternoon, Princess H found, and ate, a mother lode of laxitives. Which necessitated a trip to the ER, a big dose of activated charcoal, several hours of "observation" and more landry than I want to see for the rest of my life.  (I know you're wondering, She's totally fine, though I may need counseling to get over a) my guilt that the kid ate something so awful while ostensibly under my/our supervision, and, b) witnessing (and cleaning up) the combined fallout from that much Dulcolax and that much charcoal.  Not pretty.  Not pretty at all. 

But, even with my memory jogged, and with a full awareness of the lingering messes (new key/fob for the Volvo? $250.  Normalized toddler GI tract?  Not yet....), I'm still calling this one a net positive.  I'm so grateful that all my important stories have happy endings.  And I'll pick a full life over a tidy life any day of the week. 

One and Her Amazing Technicolor Shoe Makeover!

This is what happens when I get bored. 

+

=

I'd do a tutorial, but there's nothing to say.

Maybe I should get a coloring book?

Also

Everyone here thinks Z looks like is Justin Bieber. 
Bad news: I think he's starting to believe the rumors.

My Voice

I have a  confession

My blog name is Three, and I didn't want to write my post today.

Actually, that's not quite accurate, I wanted to, but it just wasn't coming to me.  I started several entries on a variety of topics, but by the third or fourth sentence I would hit a brick wall.  In truth, I've felt this way about a number of writing projects recently, and it's extremely disheartening.  Writing is something I usually take solace in.  I love the catharsis of the process and the clarity that comes from my "written Voice."  But my Voice and that clarity have been hard to find for a while.

I'm hoping there's some quick fix, that I've lost my Voice to boredom, or sloth, or too many sweets (I blame the sweets on the fact that the giant heath cookies are the only edible thing sold in our cafeteria at work).   I might just need to tweak something minor, and I'll find it again, waiting for me with a new trove of stories like the ones we used to tell together, my voice and I.

I'm scared it won't be that easy though.  That my Voice is like a neglected friend, who is tired of carrying the weight of our relationship, and has decided it's not worth the effort.  I'm willing to change though, and I'll do whatever it takes to coax my voice back into my bosom where it belongs.  I'll write it fairytales and sonnets, I'll sing it lullabies and hymns, I'll use it.  I will put my Voice to work, if it will only come back to me.

So please little Voice, come back.  We have so much work to do. 

Come rain or come shine...

It was supposed to rain, 

so he gave me an umbrella I've wanted 

for a few years.

Then he asked me a question 

and gave me something else.

 I gave him a kiss and said "Yes!"

Here's to beautiful sunshine

and rainbows.

Introducing, the future Mr. Two.

The first time The Future Mr. Two came to visit, I just had (a relatively small) surgery.  I could move and walk around, but I was supposed to stay home for a few days.  So he sent flowers ahead, brought groceries and an ipod full of old jazz.  We danced all weekend long (except at night time, when he slept at my brother's house).

We've weathered a fair number of torrential downpours and grown accustomed to the sicker and poorer part.  Here's to richer, health and the rest of our lives.

While I have heard he was introduced to this by his older sister's first beau, it's become our unofficial song.  The future Mr. Two has certainly lived up to the promise.  Here's the version that he first played for me.  I hope you enjoy it.

Ode to a One-Year-Old

Tiny, oh, Tiny,
Irresistible boy,
Large-headed small man,
Bouncing bundle of joy,

One year you have graced us
Here, smiling on earth --
You've shared your bright spirit;
I've schlepped your sweet girth.

I love your nine teeth
And your ten lanky toes,
Your 20-odd words
And the snot from your nose.

Every aspect of you
Is just terribly charming:
The scant hair is handsome!
Your bites are disarming! (sort of)

Sometimes I wonder,
(Lost in searching brown eyes),
How can someone so little
Be so deep, and so wise?

Perhaps Heaven made you
This flawlessly great,
So that I could screw up
But you'd still be First Rate!

Welcome to the Second Year, little man!  We love you terribly much!