The Custom House

Living Well in Close Quarters

I love everything about this.

tips-for-small-apartment-how-to-decorate-make-bigger-studio

erin-boyle-apartment

tips-for-small-apartment

Advertisements

Travel Guides

Good suggestions!

NottingHill

Vancouver-Post08

Vancouver-Post31

Best Chili Recipe

I made this chili a few days ago and it was delicious. Just the thing for these cold days.

I subbed 2 green peppers, 2 jalapeno peppers, canned chipotle chilies in adobo sauce, and dried ancho peppers for the ones they recommend (the last 2 types of chili are in the ethnic food section of most grocery stores). Totally worth the gathering.

*Add a tablespoon of cocoa powder if the chili is too hot.

20120126-vegan-chili-3-thumb-518xauto-214669

Mud

 Mud is a lovely take on one of my favorite characters. Gotta love a man on a river.

Mud

680x478

mud-whysoblu-5-1024x682-1

Winter: Ana Cabaleiro

More.
13_11-wool

13_22-white

13_snow-road

13_20

 

Lentil and Squash Salad

I made this salad for a Friendsgiving yesterday. Such a lovely combination of flavors.

5120773228_06e7065c0c

Brooke Holm

I really love these photos. Especially on such a chilly day.

forest_2_brookeholm

brooke_holm_nz_2_1

brooke_holm_nz_2_221

brooke_holm_NYE2012

Leap by Brian Doyle

“A couple leaped from the south tower, hand in hand. They reached for each other and their hands met and they jumped.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them falling, hand in hand.

Many people jumped. Perhaps hundreds. No one knows. They struck the pavement with such force that there was a pink mist in the air.

The mayor reported the mist.

A kindergarten boy who saw people falling in flames told his teacher that the birds were on fire. She ran with him on her shoulders out of the ashes.

Tiffany Keeling saw fireballs falling that she later realized were people. Jennifer Griffin saw people falling and wept as she told the story. Niko Winstral saw people free-falling backwards with their hands out, like they were parachuting. Joe Duncan on his roof on Duane Street looked up and saw people jumping. Henry Weintraub saw people “leaping as they flew out.” John Carson saw six people fall, “falling over themselves, falling, they were somersaulting.” Steve Miller saw people jumping from a thousand feet in the air. Kirk Kjeldsen saw people flailing on the way down, people lining up and jumping, “too many people falling.” Jane Tedder saw people leaping and the sight haunts her at night. Steve Tamas counted fourteen people jumping and then he stopped counting. Stuart DeHann saw one woman’s dress billowing as she fell, and he saw a shirtless man falling end over end, and he too saw the couple leaping hand in hand.

Several pedestrians were killed by people falling from the sky. A fireman was killed by a body falling from the sky.

But he reached for her hand and she reached for his hand and they leaped out the window holding hands.

I try to whisper prayers for the sudden dead and the harrowed families of the dead and the screaming souls of the murderers but I keep coming back to his hand and her hand nestled in each other with such extraordinary ordinary succinct ancient naked stunning perfect simple ferocious love.

Their hands reaching and joining are the most powerful prayer I can imagine, the most eloquent, the most graceful. It is everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death. It is what makes me believe that we are not craven fools and charlatans to believe in God, to believe that human beings have greatness and holiness within them like seeds that open only under great fires, to believe that some unimaginable essence of who we are persists past the dissolution of what we were, to believe against such evil hourly evidence that love is why we are here.

No one knows who they were: husband and wife, lovers, dear friends, colleagues, strangers thrown together at the window there at the lip of hell. Maybe they didn’t even reach for each other consciously, maybe it was instinctive, a reflex, as they both decided at the same time to take two running steps and jump out the shattered window, but they did reach for each other, and they held on tight, and leaped, and fell endlessly into the smoking canyon, at two hundred miles an hour, falling so far and so fast that they would have blacked out before they hit the pavement near Liberty Street so hard that there was a pink mist in the air.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them holding hands, and Stuart DeHann saw them holding hands, and I hold onto that.”

Nicola Odemann

These photos!

1-1

6

11

e

1

The Other F Word

A surprisingly moving meditation on fatherhood by punk rock heroes who grew up.

The-Other-F-Word