Yaye Brings You Something Shining & Blue in Seattle

I'm not sure how long these amazing re-cut trailers have been in circulation, but I just saw them for the first time today.

First watch "Something Blue," which transforms "Blue Velvet" into a whacky, feel-good romantic comedy.



Then comes "Shining," which takes the Torrance family to a whole new, warm & fuzzy place:



Now skip on over to Seattle, and you'll REALLY be Sleepless from THIS trailer:



Brilliant!!!!! Wikipedia has a whole list of these trailer re-cuts with links!

Strange days of spring cleaning - Spiders NOT the problem

With no phone, and no one to talk to, I (Tallu) am forced to continue with my spring cleaning. I've decided to start in the bedroom...winter clothes must be stashed, closets must be gone through...

So I'm taking on going through the 150 year old closet and I've just found a most curious pile of items. DOG FOOD. Loose piles of dog food. What could this mean??? We've never stored dog food in our bedroom closet. I don't think giant spiders eat dog food...it can only mean, critters. I've not heard scratching or other obvious signs of unwanted 4-legged creatures. I think for my mental state to think of the piles as Ghost feasts. (To spare my family of my screams)

I Got the No Dial Tone Blues

It's now been 24 hours since my (Tallulah's) phone went dead. The phone company (Frontier) website, gives two options to contact customer service 1. 800# 2. Email. It states that email is answered within 2 - 3 business days (what?) but in case of phone outage to CALL the 800 number.

Now this is one of the pitfalls of living out in the boonies. Companies really don't care about rural communities, it's not cost effective for them. But it should be as we're forced to go with this phone company - there are no others to choose from on top of that we're all paying 1980 prices for long distance. I've even been begging for DSL through this phone company cause I know cable will never get here and our satellite company is OUTRAGEOUS...the customer service agents tell me they'll put me on the "list", but then they'll say as an aside: I doubt if in our lifetime you'll be able to get DSL.

gggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

FLASH! Giant Spider Clogs Vacuum Cleaner

Talluah is without phone service AGAIN.... It's dead...just like the spider who played dead then followed Tallu slowly down the hall until it finally met its maker. Tallu inspired by the living lint ball, that was a GIANT spider, to clean her home, now must come to terms with arachnophobic reality : clogged vacuum cleaner with huge spider.

Will she forge ahead and fix it herself?

Is she Woman? Does she roar?

Hell NO!

She’s a screaming mimi and a big yellow bellied baby weenie!

Is it that time of the month or just spiders....

Today, Yaye witnessed a complete hysterical melt down by Tallulah. While on the phone, Tallulah was once again confessing that her home needed a good thorough cleaning and she didn't feel like doing it.. Examining what Tallu thought to be a huge ball of lint and dust, she began hysterically screaming. Alas this giant dust ball was a GIANT SPIDER, almost looked like a small tarantula and it was making its way towards Tallu who was a kicking her legs like a Rockette on methamphetamines. Yaye was laughing on the other end of the phone...trying to calm down a clearly out of control Tallu. Tallu believes Yaye's ears are still ringing.

Yaye, this should help the ringing in your ears...or not....

Katrina Film Festival...Rebuilding New Orleans One Film at a Time

The producer of this project, was the first sender of email that the Holler HausFrau ever received on Home in the Holler

So I thought since she took the time to actually write the HausFrau, I would take the time to promote her film festival. Katrina Film Festival August 29th- September 3rd, 2006. In addition to the film fest, they'll have a photo exhibit, art show, music and author readings/book signings!

For more information please go to: http://www.katrinafilmfestival.com

Living with War by Neil Young

A little parting gift for Big Blue...

Brand New Neil Young listen to the FULL ALBUM.
http://www.hyfntrak.com/neilyoung2/AFF23204/

It's pretty rockin!

Sounds like old Neil is still as spunky as ever.

Happy Listening.

Bye Bye, Big Blue

On Board
Originally uploaded by treearts.

When I met Mr. Yaye, this was his car: Big Blue. He drove from Hartford, CT to Portland, ME nearly every weekend for a year so we could date. After a year, I moved down and we were married a year and half later.

Big Blue has since become a pine needle collector. His engine gave out about a year ago, and my husband just didn't have the heart to get rid of his bachelor wheels until...TODAY! Our 4th Wedding Anniversary!!

For pics of the whole process, see my Flickr series.

I Heart Mighty Mick!

Tallulah Here
When one thinks all hopes are dashed, that no one can make a change even a small one to King Chimp's plans...here comes Mick Jagger. Good ol' saucy Sir Mighty Mick would NOT change his hotel plans to accomodate good ol' Dubya. Bless yee, Mick. Honestly, I didn't think these old rockers had it in them any more. Just goes to show you You can't Always Get What you Want, even if you're the President.

Read this article

The Coolest Thing Yaye Has Ever Seen!

Trust me, this IS cool! Follow link and watch Quicktime movie! That's an order!!

iobrush Video

Oh those crazy kids at MIT!

Simple facts in response to last night's post: Fernangeles

Behind the ramblings of last night's post , true facts revealed

A few interesting dexter cow facts: (as found on this site)

• The original home of this breed (the Dexter) was in the southern part of Ireland. There they were bred by small stockholders and were kept on the rugged mountainous regions of that country. (That's why Dexters are perfect for WV)
• Though Tallu made the comment that the dexter cow delivers 2 gallons of milk per day, she was off by 1 gallon. In fact, a typical Dexter cow will produce up to 3 gallons a day.

Roadkill as biodiesel

• Well, there are others who are discussing this very idea. Check this site out : http://www.halfbakery.com/idea/Roadkill_20refinery

• Tallu was completely mis-informed by the news media outlet who told her this story in her car - all the more reason to seek out the truth It appears that the whole cat diesel german scientest thing, was misquoted according the German Scientist Christian Koch.

Peak Oil

• Tallu hates to say it but it's here. So instead of doing your own search, as suggested last night, here are few articles just for you. You may think it's just crazy conspiracy stuff...but just give it a go...are you a goer...come on you and oil, you go don't you?...
• http://www.peakoil.org/
• http://www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.net/
• http://www.theoildrum.com/

There are no good looking men in West Virginia

• Now Tallu would like to make clear that there must be good looking men in West Virginia, just not in her immediate vicinity, she simply hasn't come across any eye candy lately.
• She still remembers the hot bike messenger in Boston.

I Pity the Fool

They're remaking Dallas...now it's time to remake the A-Team into a major motion picture

Mr. Tallu is Mr. T

Submitted by a newly acquired swain of the saucy sisters that is Yaye and Tallulah. Thank you Mr. ummm, hmmmm...Big Daddy JBC.

Fernangeles, Here We Come!

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PARCOS DRINK WINE
AND TALK ON THE PHONE FOR THREE OR MORE HOURS
(Actually only one Parco has been drinking wine.
Not the one typing.)

So far:
1 glass of Kool Aid
6 Ritz Crackers
1 handful of broken Sour Cream & Onion Potato Chips

It was the wine, dammit! (Giggle, chortle)

And now...I must cut the bananas and throw them into the chocolate pudding.

Forget the Miso, eat the egg sandwich. If it makes you feel better, forget the cheese.

It does make me feel better.

You know what I was watching the other day? Wayne's World and Mike Myers looked so young with Tia Cabrera or Carrera or whatever - it was all about the hot bass player. Whatever happened to her? She probably married some mogul and doesn't have to work. B****!

There are no good looking men in West Virginia. Remember when we went to Boston and we saw the bike messenger and he was totally hot. And I said, "Parco you are so right, East Coast guys are so hot in that intellectual way." Like get down and dirty in the middle of the afternoon like in that Simon & Garfunkel song. Have you ever known any Cecilias?

Why yes I have known Cecilias.

Were they nice?

Yes, I can recommend Cecilias.
...

Oh my god, I can't believe our blog was found! Who else could find our blog? And what could that do? There are some people I would love to find our blog, but I don't think they'll ever find it.
...

I need to stop listening to all this progressive radio. It's making me so depressed. It's like, what's the point in even making any money if we're all gonna die?

And we've reached peak oil - later, do a search on peak oil. And then I think, what difference does it make when I'm down in this holler? And I just wonder...I mean it just astounds me how quickly this country went into the handbasket and straight to hell. The flames are licking my feet! We're all gonna die. So what's the point? Do a search on peak oil, that's all I'm asking.

Then I'm thinking...this whole gas crisis. You know we're in a prime place to figure out raw materials for other types of fuel, right? I don't want to do corn - everybody does corn. I mean, I'm a hipster, I can't do corn. I was doing corn before the first album came out. Giggle, giggle.
I'm off the corn. Just give me chicken fat.

Did you know that one dead cat can be converted into one gallon of diesel fuel?

Um, who said that?

I heard it on some weird progressive radio show. And then I see all this roadkill around here and I think..giggle....why...giggle, giggle...can't...giggle...I ......(total breakdown in hysterical Keith Moon laughter).....

I can no longer understand an entire sentence, just bits and pieces.

Think about the ...giggle...Santa Claus....chortle.....the roadkill is free....think about it, Parco.

Here's the thing, I'll think of that and then my brain will switch to, "I would really like to go out to a fancy dinner in high heels and stocking and a beautiful long dress preferably with George Clooney...oooooh George Clooney....yessssssssss........."
...

You know what would be really good now? French Onion Soup from a coffee shop with a big clump of cheese on top. I'm a cheese lover!

We're thinking about getting a cow. A little Dexter Cow. They only produce about 2 gallons of milk per day, and I was wondering if we could convert that into biodiesel.

I've had Kool Aid!

There once was a girl far from Nantucket...

There once was a girl far from Nantucket
Who once put flowers in a bucket
But a gift came along
A camera so strong
That she took pictures rather than pluck it.

Tallulah here...I am not a poet and I did know it.



My favorite Photographer now has her own art showing on Home in the Holler click on Tree Arts. Her photos speak volumes, I can't wait. Yaye you must check this out.

Precocious Proctologist Nurse

Yaye and I were chatting the other day about the joys of spring and gardening when somehow the conversation twisted back to what we were doing when we were 22 years old. You see, there was a time when Yaye and I had separated onto opposite paths. During this time, me, saucy Tallulah, got involved with a man who would quickly become my husband of 17 years (holy ****!). She shared, I shared and we both decided that this should go on the blog.

I always hung out with musicians, as I used to play in bands way back when. I understood musicians; I felt an affinity with them. Then, after much heartbreak with “rock star” boyfriends, I felt it was my duty to change my manly choice direction. Yes, I decided that it would be a good thing to get involved with someone in the film industry. (OUCH! I just smacked myself in the forehead). This involvement would be very difficult for me, as film people are very different than musicians, and it’s hard for me to relate but I digress. My only saving grace…I have NEVER been involved with an actor.

Party, summer 1989, right turn Lookout Moutain, from Laurel Canyon…up, up, up to a stilt house overlooking the lights of Hollywood. Mr. Tallu, myself and two neighbors (Martha and Jorge) converge upon the soiree hosted by a producer friend. Many beautiful women wearing perfect little black dresses and lovely strappy shoes. I am wearing a 1940’s floral light green/peach rayon housecoat, and a 1950s girdle like bullet bustier, which I dyed green to match the housecoat which didn’t close very well. Shoes…scuffed up cowboy boots. Everyone there…very Hollywood, I felt uncomfortable, so what the F*ck, I’d have a good time anyway.

Scene 1:
Martha and Tallulah standing on back patio, looking around trying to figure out what to do. Two Frenchmen approach with bottle of champagne.

“Ahhh two beautiful ladies, Non? “

I said, “Oui, we’ve got the Je n’sais pas, Non?

“Ha, ha, ha….Let us share in some champagne…we’ll get the glasses you stay right here with this bottle of the finest Dom Perignon.” The Frenchmen scuffle off to the kitchen, in corner of eye we see them point and ask producer friend for glasses.

Martha and I devilishly grin, as we scurry to the back of the house down rickety steps that led to the stilts, and shared swigs of the fine champagne until it was all gone.

Scene 2:
Bellied up to the buffet/bar table. I am standing next to Judd Nelson, to the side slightly behind poor Mr. Nelson was Martha. I turned my head to his direction, but looked through him to Martha.

“Oh my god, Martha! Is that Woody Allen?” I exclaimed, knowing full well Woody was NOT at this party. Silence fell for a few seconds, while everyone was trying so hard to be nonchalant at the sametime working hard to get a glimpse of the great filmmaker. What pure fun to watch the awkward moment…oops Frenchmen spots us, we get out of situation fast.

Scene 3:
Timothy Leary sits on the couch in the living room surrounded by psychedelic posse. Friend of Mr. Tallu says: “Tallu, I’ll give you $20 bucks if you sit on Timothy Leary’s lap and tell him you’ve just taken LSD what should you do”

Hmmm, had a bottle of Champagne, one shot of high grade tah-killya, and 2 glasses of wine…I’m up for anything.

I slither my way to Mr. Leary, he’s wanting me to sit on his lap without my prompting, I do, place my arms around his neck and whisper: “Mr. Leary, 30 minutes I go I took a hit of acid, what should I do”

He smiles and says “Darling, Why NOT?”

I thank him, he tells me to stay a while, I tell him, I’ve just got to walk, it’s hitting. Go find Mr. Tallu’s friend, he’s laughing so hard he can’t contain himself, I place the $20 dollar bill in my left cup of the bullet bustier.

Scene 4:
It’s late, the party’s hopping, I’m leaning up against the railing next to the black bottomed pool, I believe Martha and Jorge were having a little fun down by the stilts. A famous Japanese photographer walks up. (I don’t know who he is, but everyone told me later that night at Pink’s Hot Dog Stand – he was REAL FAMOUS – whatever)

Photographer: “So what do you do?”

Tallulah: “I’m a nurse”

Photographer: “Oh?”

Tallulah: “Don’t tell anyone”

Photographer is intruiged…

Tallulah: “I’m Warren Beatty’s proctologist’s nurse”

Photographer mortified.

Spring or Bust! A Yaye's Obsession

January, February and most of March I was obsessed with blogging. This blog. Every single detail of my life seemed like fertile blog material. I found myself composing blog entries in the shower and the car. I couldn't wait to get up every day and visit the 'sphere, checking in on my latest favorite blogger (one week dooce, the next week her husband Blurbomat, moving on to Go Fug Yourself, then Vegan Lunch Box) finding new techie goodies (RSS feeds, Sitemeter, Amazon ads, etc.) to make this page more dynamic, learning all about vlogging/podcasting and ultimately subscribing to several via iTunes. It was a whole new world and I hurled myself into it with complete abandon.

Now......

Nothing but Spring. Nothing but unfurling flowers and emerging green. Nothing but compost and raking and wheelbarrowing. Nothing but throwing on my denim capris, a t-shirt with ratty old cardigan, and my handy black clogs and getting down with Mother Nature. Nothing but gardening tips from Jerry Baker, making diagrams of vegetable garden plans, and digitally documenting the evolution of sprout to bud to blossom to leaf.

The first few days, my muscles ached and my blisters burned. But now, I get the jitters when I can't get out there and spend 2-3 hours each day in heavy duty yard work. My husband is stunned by what I have accomplished in the past month. We have never had such a tidy, well-kept landscape. And we're miles ahead of our usual Spring ministrations. I can't wait to plant and mulch - I've already purchased several giant bags of woodchips and a few junipers that I'll plant after the rain over this weekend.

So my blogging suffers, because the sun is out and life is irresistably surging forward, and I have to be a part of it.

The Much Belated Compost Bin Post

Mr. Y and I rolled up the old sleeves (actually, we wore t-shirts) , broke out the power tools (okay, just one power tool and lots of non-power tools) and built us a compost bin. Behold the finished product:


I plan on attaching hooks on the front and back and using a black tarp for heat-attracting coverage and optimum compost cookin'.

If you want to see photos of the whole process, you can visit the Flickr series. There are more pretty flower pictures there as well.

Small Town Livin' Big City Tallulah

Before I became the feast or famine freelancer that I am, I worked for a few major corporations. These corporations included: a very large HMO, worldwide Ad Agency and major motion picture studio. What always killed me was the culture, the daily swims with sharks, the high-school type cliques and panty hose. When Mr. Tallu and I decided to pack up and move to where the grass was greener, (literally), and start a farm/studio in a very very small town in West Virginia, we were under false hopes that we would leave the clique-ish politics behind.

Yesterday at the crack of dawn, I headed down to the county fair grounds where I volunteered to help with a spaghetti dinner fundraiser. It was great fun and for a worthwhile cause. But as I helped cook and serve the meal, I observed in horror the politics of this small community. Issues the size of mole hills, easily turn into mountains and Hatfield/McCoy riffs bred like rabbits. They're all so busy creating tension out of thin air it is no wonder nothing ever progresses here.

I have learned that if your pleasant to one person another will be easily offended by who your were polite to and cross you off their "get to know" list. Even the one you maybe pleasant with will turn around to the offended person and stab you in the back-because they don't want another enemy. I don't really care, except that if I ever had to take a minimum wage job at the local market would that local market actually hire me?

My old house that I lived in for 12 years, I knew only 2 of my neighbors. Why? Because in city/suburbs the cliques are the clicks of the garage door opener and once their in, they don't come out until morning when it's time to go to work. Rare did I spark a conversation with a neighbor on Saturday morning while gardening in my back yard..why? Because it was only hired gardners that worked on Saturday mornings in my neighborhood.

So it comes to this, it can be a lonely world out there no matter where you are. So long live the Best Friend! As long as I have my Yaye (600 miles away) these people won't drive me crazy.