Today is a no watering day. After several weeks of lovely summer weather, Seattle’s upper atmosphere scrubber has arrived to bestow droplets of water with dust and pollution clinging to them, onto our grateful lawns and gardens. Tomorrow, the bluest skies you’ve ever seen are in Seattle will become a reality once more. I know, with a title of Paint it Black, you were expecting the Rolling Stones. Maybe next time. Continue reading
… those who understand binary and those who don’t.* Do not despair if you do not understand the title and first line. Keep reading and all will be revealed at the bottom. If you did chuckle, well done! Actually there are 2 kinds of people in the US: Mayonnaise people and Miracle Whip† people. Oh sure, most people in public pretend to be mayonnaise people, as it is ubiquitous in restaurant settings, but in private, where it counts, there are those who will not eat an after-Thanksgiving turkey sandwich with anything but Miracle Whip. I don’t even need you to think about what type of person you are, you were way ahead of me in self-identifying in the last paragraph, right? Growing up, we were a Miracle Whip family. I loved Miracle Whip. Really. It was a source of much parental discontent, in the same way I took baths which were too frequent and too warm. After I left for college it became a joke. My parents would take the Miracle Whip jar and mark the line indicating the amount of remaining product. When I returned at the next break, the majority of the remaining white goodness would still be there. Following my visit, there was usually a new jar purchased and a new demarcation line. Continue reading
My mother bought me a book when I was a teenager. It was her way of talking to me directly about an uncomfortable subject. She had taught me that in polite conversation, you don’t talk about politics, religion or sex.
The book was not about religion or politics. Continue reading
- My mother taught me there are 3 stages of material possession:
- You can never have enough
Acquire everything. This feeds our desire to demonstrate our success and make our life comfortable.
- Enough is enough
When there really isn’t a need for one more Tupperware® container in the cupboard or one more towel in the closet.
- Enough is too much
The realization that more time is spent dusting and sorting possessions than spent enjoying life. This period is marked by giving away treasured possessions to those who will appreciate them and donating a good deal of excess. Continue reading
We have started getting a farm box. The boxes come from a farm a small amount of distance from us, who utilize the CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) method of providing good food to those interested. Once a week a “share” of the farm is brought to our drop off point, none of which was selected by me, and let me tell you that has been a fun eye opener!
At the grocery store, I have my tried and true “normal” vegetables and other than the jicama which my grandmother taught me to love, it’s a pretty bland mix. Enter the mystery box of vegetable goodies. On at least 2 occasions I have had to call my sister, who has been receiving farm boxes for a couple of years, to describe to her what it was I might be trying to ingest.
“Lynn,” I would ask, “I’m just working on an Asian soup and I started peeling the ginger from the farm box, only it doesn’t smell very gingery. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure it is ginger. Any thoughts?” Continue reading
I went to Costco (motto: When 2 gallons isn’t enough) the other day. I hadn’t been in a while so the experience was sort of like watching broadcast television after eschewing it for a decade. I suppose it’s also like seeing a growing child occasionally, rather than constantly, “When did my nephew get so tall?”
But back to Costco. Apparently bowing to the whims of the day, yellow markers pointed out what was ORGANIC, in case shoppers couldn’t read the regular cards without highlighting. Everywhere I went, yellow highlighting to help you select the best possible ORGANIC choices. It made me laugh to think that shoppers needed that much help being totally politically and theoretically nutritionally correct. Continue reading
I’ve been making cheddar cheese for almost a year. We have a happy little corner of the store room which I call the “cheese cave,” and it’s filled with happy little red wax packages.
Yesterday I decided to attempt another of our favorites – blue cheese. It was a reasonably quick “cook,” if you can call 90º “cooking,” and then an interesting “gravity only press” in the mold. Now for the fun part. Continue reading
As I write this, we’ve just finished the Sochi Winter Olympics (2014). The lead up to the event was one of concern about possible Chechnyan terrorists. As the journalists and athletes arrived, the focus shifted to unfinished hotel rooms, water which should not be ingested or even used externally, and dangerous course conditions. The magnitude of those problems even prompted late night host Jimmy Kimmel to put out a hoax about athletes sighting a wolf in their housing. By the time the flame was extinguished, those concerns faded, the athletes were celebrated and everyone went home happy, with of course the mandatory possibility of corruption in the ice skating judging. Continue reading
Following my morning routine of clearing everything off my electronic plate before taking on the rest of the day, I was cruising through Facebook, when I came across this ditty about surviving Whole Foods. It made me laugh because like all good humor, it contained nuggets of truth. My favorite was the smarmy clerk who indicated the “poison” was tucked far away; they were diligent in protecting a populace who might otherwise find themselves croaking in the WF parking lot. Continue reading
My former mother-in-law (FMIL) worked, many years ago, for a company which makes plastic bags. You know, the kind you find at your local supermarket when you are buying produce. They come in rolls, mounted in dispensers above the glistening array of fruits and vegetables you want to take home, but don’t want to have moisten your check stand impulse copy of Beautiful Bodies and How You Can Get One (subtitle: You Obviously Don’t Have One or You Wouldn’t be Reading This Drivel). I digress.
The bag company used to occasionally make a mistake or have a client return a batch of bags. They were always quite serviceable, the wording was not what the company wanted. Finest Prosecute Available never sold many Bartlett pears. The “oops” bags were placed out for the employees to take home, gratis. FMIL took advantage of the offer, sharing rolls of bags with us as well. It was a sad day, sometime last year, when I used the last of those roll bags. It was so incredibly handy, especially when the kids were in diapers, to have bags whenever we needed them. Continue reading