My name is Katherine. I grew up in Charlottesville, Virginia, and I went to school there. This is me at a Wyoming airport this summer, communicating passive aggressively to my brother that this is like the fifth time in a seven-day vacation that we have dodged a bunch of moose to see if his baggage is at the airport, and if he even considers flying United again, I will kill him in his sleep with one of the sharp objects that one of the slightly less asshole airlines let me carry on.
One reason I have invisible anxiety rays coming out of my head in this picture is that renting a ginormous-class SUV and driving your mother, father, boyfriend, brother and brother’s girlfriend through fields of two ton buffalo takes a toll on you when you can’t remember whether you got insurance on the vehicle. And when you suspect your uninsured Escalade may be provoking the buffalo because everyone in the car is yelling and eating Combos, which everyone knows smell delicious to every living creature on Earth (except possibly United Airlines executives).
The other reason I am clenching my teeth in that picture is I had only just quit my job as a commercial litigator at a large law firm in Manhattan so that I could try something new, including live with this guy in Alabama:
(Note: the best way to avoid a moose is to hang out near a water source in subtle clothing).
Scott is a hilarious nuclear physicist (swoon) whose favorite things include airplanes, math, tropical fish, donuts, omelets and my dog, Thunder:
I know, right? Adorable. However, Thunder sleeps peacefully like this about 10% of the time, and every other waking second of the day and night she scoots around the house on her two back legs at 50 miles an hour with something in her mouth. Usually it’s one of Scott’s dress shoes, the bath mat, a huge piece of tree or something poisonous to dogs–like, most recently, onions and probably hallucinogenic mushrooms (separate incidents, both super annoying).
The vast majority of her life is therefore difficult to document, because she shows up as an eerie white streak with crazy eyeballs. For example, here she is the day we moved into the new place in Alabama. She had just discovered a roll of toilet paper at the end of our hallway, and was able to T.P. the house in under five minutes. It did not help that Scott took this opportunity to teach her “Kill it! Kill it!”
Thunder and I moved to Alabama in August, 2011. Scott and I are renting this great house that has a big kitchen, which allows me to cook and bake a lot, so this blog will include recipes. It also has a front porch swing for reading and figuring out what to do next. It has a back yard, which is responsible for this blog: I stepped on a rusted nail out there, had to get a tetanus shot, and was put mildly out of commission by a separate but possibly related incident in which I fell over. All this gave me lots of time and something random enough to try writing my first blog post about. And there you have it. Thanks for reading.