1. I think I'm just as glad that Halloween is over. We have some yucky stuff going on in our normally charming neighborhood that makes being here, and Halloween in particular, more concerning that celebratory. I have great hopes that things will die down, and we'll get back to our normal routines of edging our lawns and sharing a glass of wine on the front porch. But until then? Ugh.

2. I think poor Miss Violet hasn't been feeling the greatest over the last day or so. Because she's been sick for so long (going on 10 months now), it's hard to know when she's off a bit, if it's simply a bad day or a sign of something deeper. No matter what, if you have a thought or two to spare, could you send them her way? When she's feeling better, she'll do a cheer for you.

3. I think this post and this post both provided some provocative reading this week. And I agree with both Petra and Felicia wholeheartedly in their collective take on the Kinfolk craze. I won't say I wasn't drawn in at the start. Who wouldn't love that gorgeous photography? But now? Color me unimpressed. My life is messy and diverse and filled with splashes and splatters. Kinfolk has none of that.

4. I think I also loved reading Christine's ghost story this week. I left one of my own ghost stories in her comments, and I have another about my other grandmother as well. Right after she died we traveled to Pennsylvania for her funeral. This was a very difficult time for my family. Not just her death, but my relationship with my parents, which had always been so close, was terribly strained for lots of almost unbelievable reasons. But we all came together to manage the funeral. She was the last of my grandparents to die. During the week of her funeral, Neel, Cal and I stayed at a hotel, but we were in and out of the only house I really ever remember her living in. In that house was a pair of chairs by the front door that you pass a gazillion times a day. It's where you drape your coat before you hang it up or where you lay your packages. You see these chairs all the time. Sit in them to toe off your shoes or to put your heels on before heading to church.

We walked back into her house after the funeral and sitting on the chair, which had sat empty for days, where I had sat just hours before to help Cal get his coat on, was her pocketbook (that's what she called it). Nothing valuable. Just some tissues and some mints, maybe a few other things. It hadn't been there before and suddenly there it was.

I don't look too deeply to try to explain these things. And I don't try to hard to understand what it means or what the message is. All I know is that there was a tangible sign of my grandmother, right where I needed to see one.

5. I think I can't ever begin to thank you enough for all the kind thoughts you've shared with me this week about the news of my photography exhibit. So many of you have reached out in this space or by twitter, Facebook, email message or phone. I really am so, so moved by it all. The whole experience, your support, all of it. It means the world.

Let's keep the food photography going, shall we? I learned a lot about myself and how I shoot through the process of entering that juried exhibition, and I made a promise to myself that each week I'd be on the look out for something beautiful at the market and bring it home to photograph. A little weekly push to get my eye trained to be on the look out.

Well, how could I pass up this beautiful purple asparagus? Purple! Asparagus! Well. I had fun.

We love roasted asparagus (Face it, we love asparagus any way you slice it.), but for this gorgeous stuff, I wanted something special. Enter the poached egg.

The only problem? I've never poached an egg. I know, I know. Sounds silly, but everything I've heard about it is how tricky the process is, and I was intimidated.

So I read a few recipes and looked at a couple of videos (there a quite the varying opinions regarding technique, it seems), and finally, with Cal standing by for moral support, I got brave and just did a trial run. The recipe/technique I used was this one.

And you know what? It turned out okay! We were astonished. Since he's allergic to raw or undercooked eggs, poor Cal couldn't even reap the reward, but he was still thrilled! We did it again for dinner that night, and things turned out just as tasty.

You've roasted asparagus, right? That part's super easy. Just break or chop off the tough ends, toss them on a cookie sheet with some olive oil and some salt and pop them in the oven (maybe 400º-425º ?) for 30 minutes or so. I just keep an eye on them, really. When they soften and brown a bit, they're ready. Put an egg on them and they're something else entirely. Something pretty special.

After I took that last shot, I added some balsamic glaze, and that was pretty special too.

five things, november (really?) 1

put an egg on it {life}