deliciously dismembered

n is for ninja

 

So, basically, last post was b is for birthday (revisited for a second time in the name of laziness) and I seem to have missed last corner view (ahem, a few more), coincidentally themed m is for... 

To keep on this trend, I thought I would give you n is for ninja plus a few more random telepics taken lately both home and (not-so-far) away.
It is currently pretty manic in my head (the voices are back, yes) with course work and work-work. Therefore, n is also for not a lot of ninja activity around here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

N is one of my fab pressies. My b-day do came and went and it was great. 40? Bring it on.
Lots of people, lots of vodka tonic, lots of laughs, lots of lasses from Barcelona, lots of dancing, lots of goals from Barça... Lots of love and good stuff.
Now back to work (me, not you.)

there's a posh tap on my kitchen counter

Yup. A brand new tap (last year's b-day pressie from that boy) just arrived. This evening.

We defo are quick (I was born in May) and romantic around these here parts.

Seriously, the thing is shiny and fab and I love it. Plus, you know, just like a diamond, this one's forever.

Late and poor cv but I'm in bed, knackered and typing on a phone to boot. Woo hoo. Ninja moderna.

Oh yeah, this is my entry to this week's cv, currently hosted by Miss Francesca, Hostess Extraordinaire.

However, I would like to link to Miss Pienduzz and her Most men bring flowers series here (particularly this one, which had me chuckling at the time.) I thought of her while typing this post (I still have another one on this subject saved somewhere, as a draft. It has been there for, well, a while. I shall try to dust it out of its lethargy this week.)

no corner view, yes overdue "gracias chicas"

So... gracias chicas.
It's been yonks since I received these wonderfully whimsical magnets from the (I suspect in person even more) wonderfully whimsical Miss ArtsyVillager Extraordinaire. If you don't know who I'm talking about, then, bloody get yourselves over here, to magical artsyville, and PRONTO.

Seriously, I got Aimee's super magnets -which I adore and refer to often and not only with imaginary friends, at the end of January. Pretty rubbish it's taken me this long to publicly thank her and engage in some seriously shameless promotion of her stuff. But, hey enough about me and my always endearing ninja virtues and onto the matter at hand.

Magnets. Lovely magnets. Loooots of 'em (pssst, over here.)

Orange space man there is going ¡Joder! while performing a major eyeroll and thinking there's no fucking way all these bleeding magnets are sharing this lamp with him. While, on the other side, funky chickadee just chuckles and tells him "have a vodka dear, I think our new companions are fan-fucking-tastic but, you know, if you have sharing issues, it's also ok to say no" and thinking to itself, I should really avoid toxic people (spacey or not.)

So, that's what happened in January and then, around the second week of February I got a cool house-warming card from this other Missy with the Mad Curly Hair here. Yup. Another space cadet action from ninja's part and another long period of time elapsed. Right, so here's my public thank you to Jane and go give her new (full to the brim with beautiful photographs) shop the fanfare it should have (not that it needs it, but she loves the company, don't you just? ;)

So... FANFARE. MUSIC. SHOPPY SHOP. GET GOING. NOW. :)

This was quite a funny one to receive being Amsterdam my adoptive city of choice and the place where I live. It is rather surreal receiving a card from where you are from someone that isn't there. El mundo al revés, love it.
Anyway, girlie wurlies, thanks a bunch. It's actually a good thing I've waited until now to post these as the light is finally good. It was really dark and grey and crap back then and the photos wouldn't have done your pressies any justice. Well, as usual, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Tra la la la.

Note 1: No, I'm not on commission or anything. Just the spring making me go all happy and soft inside and out. It won't last.
Note 2: Yup. I'm playing with da blog and it's all over the shop (pun intended) right now but spring beckons so I'm off to play outdoors and shall try and sort it out and make it look prettier again tomorrow.

i n c o g n i t o

ish.

you're welcome

Note: Donation of stabilising soil. layercakelab (in Dutch only)

where is that?

Three days in a row I came home from work to find the paper slips UPS had left behind after two unsuccessful delivery attempts. The first two days I was a tad puzzled as, normally, you have to order something for it to be sent to your house (and by courier, no less) and I hadn't ordered anything at all. Anyway, on the third day, my neighbour had picked it up for me and left it outside my door. Hooray. Initiative.

Can you imagine my surprise when, after a couple of minutes fumbling with the packet (it came from a company called shapeways, so it briefly crossed my mind it could be spanx underpants, "spanx" I hear you thinking? I know, my mind can work in mysterious ways), I found this lovely metallic little ninja, the spitting image of this other one.

I left a voicemail for that boy (it was either him or some spam-gone-wrong-moment. I´d surely clicked somewhere I shouldn't have and would now be ripped off no end for a product I hadn't really consciously ordered... drama.)

A bit later I get this (and I translate literally) text message: "me? ordering a ninja? huh? you mean a custom made stainless steel 3d printed ninja? where is that?"

Yup, he'd been waiting to try this (apparently revolutionary) new technique where you take a design/drawing, send it in and they create exactly that: a stainless steel (or plastic) 3d printed model of it. To test it out, he decided to (secretly) send them a version of my ninja sticker.

So, there you have it. My own custom made stainless steel 3d printed ninja as seen modelled by the boy. Where is that ninja? Well, in your pocket.

I'm totally chuffed. Now I just need to find a chain strong enough to be able to wear it. Lovely and (oh, so very) feminine stainless steel. :)

Note: Jokes aside, it really seems to be revolutionary and, according to that boy, it will change the way we approach production. I hear that using it someone created a part for his motorcycle and could ride it again (said part had been discontinued and no-one could help him repair his bike.) Me, I'm just delighted with my pendant. Check shapeways out.

once upon a time, there was this wee ninja...

...who came tucked in a assorted b-day pack from this missy here.
Even though this wee one immediately became a cherished possession, I was yet to find a function for this little ninja (it has been hanging prominently on the studio wall but other than that, nada). Now, it's finally found its hiding place (very skilfully making itself invisible in a totally accomplished ninja manner... not) on the banner up there. Where is that ninja? Where is it, indeed?

Beware. Master of the stealth hug too. Kua-chaaiiiiiiii, d'woooooooo!!!

self-topping fluffy 'uns

Even though I realise I'm very very late in discovering this, I have only just done recently. However, upon such a delightful find, I immediately got a copy of the first book as a present for a friend on his birthday. I hope he likes it as I'm aware this may not be everyone's cup of tea. Definitely mine.
The very original trials and tribulations of these self-destructive bunnies really make me giggle. Have to check out Mr. Riley's other work 'cos this is dead promising.

The Book of Bunny Suicides: Little Fluffy Rabbits Who Just Don't Want To Live Any More by Andy Riley

a whole new (foot)ball game

¡¡Las pelotas, Cli Cli, las pelotas!!

A few weeks ago I read in passing on a networking site (still believe them to be potentially harmful when not used well) that ex-colleague and creative bird C was asking whether anyone had any punctured balls (!!) lying about. As you do.

When I inquired further she explained she'd gotten inspiration while visiting a jewellery fair and wanted to have a go at making something using old leather footballs herself. Her usual tactic seems to be just popping by her local football club and begging for any balls that are kaput. She also mentioned that they are rather drab, your traditional black and white sort.

At that moment, I thought to myself: "I may know just the person"; a certain someone who works at a small creative agency, outside the city centre, where they play footie during their lunch break. I asked him and, hey presto, colourful balls ahoy!

Miss C has been dying to get her hands on them and was dead excited to hear there was a pink one too! I, myself, find the golden one particularly gorgeous.

Right, Cli Cli, I know you are away on a long weekend and will not read this until you are back. Just wanted to let you know the hand-over has been successful. The ball is rolling. I've passed them on so that you can collect "las pelotitas" next weekend. Hooray!

Cannot wait to see what you create this time!

I love the jewellery C makes with recycled materials. I am the proud owner of one of her bicycle-tyre necklaces. You can visit her at kklak.

Note: Many thanks to the unofficial football supplier, much appreciated (nogmaals bedankt, hoor!) and to the selfless messenger-lady M (¡muchas gracias a ti también, eh, salerosa!).

la petite (full of snot) apprentie domestique

This is how my day off started last Friday. Eggs for breakfast using my new-ish curvy timer, which I wish worked as finely as it looks. Unfortunately, it is a bit useless at telling time, which is basically its only job. So, pretty as you are, you little Barbapapa of a timer, you are going back to the shop.

So, that was Friday. I potted and faffed about the house in the morning (I'm a big fan of lazying about in my pjs, reading the paper, that sort of thing), went out to do some errands and just enjoyed a very chilled and needed day off. I was already starting to feel a bit bleh but kind of ignored it. On Saturday, it sort of started to transpire I was really not 100%. (To be honest, I had been stifling it for a week; the weather had taken a maniacal and evil turn and gone back to Autumn behaviour, and it had been dead busy at work. However, I had just chosen to ignore all those signs and believe the blehness would simply go away at some point.)

It didn't. I'm now home nursing the last remnants of a bad cold/flu. [When does it actually start being The Flu and stop being a common cold? I very rarely have (what is considered) a temperature but still suffer the rest of the symptoms. Flu or no flu, "ça c'est la question"! Anyhoo... I ramble (fact!).] I'm still coughing my lungs out but seem to have slept an itsy bitsy (teeny weeny) bit better than the last few nights (probably something to do with that cough syrup, which should probably be listed under soft drugs; it knocked me out, like!) so things are looking up!

As you may have read, I had the brilliant idea of roasting a huge pollo on Saturday. I was still in denial about how crappy I was feeling so, to my amazement, it turned out well-roasted and well-tasty (was a good quality organic specimen, that chick). So, apart from a couple of tense expletive-laden moments in the kitchen and virtually managing to kill all vitamins in the "steamed" broccoli (I did manage to forget about the boiling water under the steamer and ended up with a beautifully charcoaled bottom of the pan) it probably can, all in all, be considered a success! There's a carcass in that fridge I need to sort out, though. Let's see how I feel in a while when my body follows my brain and starts functioning too.

So, should I achieve the purpose of actually getting my arse in gear, I might have a go at the scone recipe colleague and food-nut D passed on a few months ago. One morning, there was a small package waiting for me atop my keyboard at work; it was the cream of tartar bottle pictured left. Having had a go at making scones that had come out a bit flat (to say the least, they looked like plain biscuits), she recommended Nigella's recipe (her again! the feud continues!) and, a few weeks later, she even got me this, the alleged key ingredient. She's a star. I've made much better scones since (not opening the oven half way through the process is, apparently, a must... d'oh!) but I'm curious about this recipe now.

That reminds me I have yet to crack open this beautiful tin too. Another gift from another lovely friend and colleague, who brought it back from her last visit home. I love the old-fashioned design of the tin but, when I asked her what I could use it for, she looked at me in disbelief (another one) and, with a shake of the head, replied that most traditional Spanish dishes call for it. Ahem!

For the first twenty-odd years of my life (before I left the country to go and study abroad and never made it back) I never really showed any interest in cooking or any other domestic activity and I reckon this applies to most of my mates from home. It's a sign of our generation, really: trying to break with the traditional role of the woman, blah, blah, blah, shan't get into it here or now. We're all (just) starting to pick it up now (and, as I've mentioned here before, we're all on the very wrong side of thirty). Right, pimentón dulce, then. A new challenge, ei! They really want me to cook that lot, don't they?

Thank you, chicas, and, yes, I know I owe you a post on Súper López. I just don't quite yet feel I have my wits about me to try and be (well, if you'll excuse the repetition) witty. As if...

It's all domesticated ninja here lately, I'm afraid.
That and some serious snot! : )

la petite (pissed off) botaniste

Yesterday spring really seemed to have sprung. I noticed the second batch of bulbs I had planted back in November was coming out (one big pot, three sorts of bulb, three layers, three depths). They are bloody tiny but still... Result!!!

Suddenly, I remembered about the herbs I was given in a bar one night during the Xmas hols back home... yup! It's actually much less dodgy than it sounds. Some bizarre promotion was going on at 3am: by drinking a particular brand of gin you got one of this ready-to-grow-herbs-in-a-sachet. I am not a gin drinker but, somehow, ended up taking two of these packs home even though I spent all night drinking caipiroscas... Perhaps that was precisely the reason! ; ) Anyway, it had totally slipped my mind that I had chucked them in an empty plant pot in the balcony until yesterday. I cannot stress this enough but it really looked like spring was here so, emboldened as I was by the apparent bulb success, I decided to put my green fingers on once more and give them a go. (Not that it is really that hard: you simply cut the top off, throw the seeds in, cover, water them and ta-da! But hey, still requires an effort).

However, I'm not sure the gale force winds whipping through the house as I type, together with the hail aggressively pattering on the window panes, are a good sign. Winter's back with a passion (the bastard!) but I really really hope it's not taking my (very very first) mini envelope herb garden away. Come on, I'm really trying to sort that balcony out! Working my gardening gloves off here!!!

really taken a shine to my new friend here!

Hello gorgeous!! The story goes thus: I bought myself a very similar bracelet, probably three years ago now, at Camden Market in London, after getting off the tube at Chalk Farm just because we liked the name (and wondering whether, in the past, one could actually grow chalk and whether it would sprout in furrows in the ground or hang from trees ready to be picked; would it later be processed and bleached or was organic chalk white by nature?) running down Primrose Hill and having great day out with the lovely Miss P.
It was silver and beautiful, made of leather but painted/sprayed in a way it made it look metallic. I loved it. However, I lost it. In Málaga. Last year. Somewhere between leaving the bags at the hostel, going out for a bite and coming back. No idea how, when or where. Only thing is it was nowhere to be found the next morning. I was gutted. (I know, it sounds all very melodramatic and superficial but some things you're just very fond of and I don't lose stuff often.)

When I mentioned it to lovely E (who happens to live in London as well), she offered to go to Camden and get me another one. I had forgotten all about it when I got this jiffy bag in the mail (containing said bracelet + silly card) two weeks ago. It really made my day! Not only 'cos I am again the proud owner of a beautiful and shiny bracelet (this time a warmer, brassier shade), but because I love all kinds of epistolary exchanges. I'm sure I've mentioned it here before but it really makes me happy sending my friends cards and little knick knacks in the post. I really miss that a lot and I find the whole electronic correspondence (let alone all that social networking malarkey) has killed the snail mail star!
It makes me go a bit postal... sometimes! ; )

De veritat, em va fer molta ilu, però ja ho saps tu això, oi?

Merci, Polka Dot E! :)