As The Food Turns

But first, some non-food news (well, sort of...)...

This news story is making me rethink everything I thought I knew about the blogosphere. I mean, knitting bloggers all seem so nice (so long as you don't threaten their stash). If you can't trust a knitting blogger, who can you trust? And if you peruse those published blog posts of the accused, they all seem fairly standard, don't they? Will we all start wondering who else amongst us might be a wolf in sheep's clothing? (Well, a wolf knitting from sheep's clothing, anyway...)

And doesn't this incident mean that all of us knitting bloggers should refrain from joking about how we steal from the family food budget in order to add to our yarn stashes? I wouldn't want the FBI showing up at my door, waving some printouts of this blog and demanding to see my teenage daughter. It just might upset Larry. Run-ins with the law do that to him, you know.

Speaking of knitting bloggers (at least, those of us who are law-abiding), I can only assume that we are all of the same mind about this news item. 150,000 dollars on clothes? I could have made do on half that and then spent the rest on some good sock yarn. And a decent set of circular needles. And a few knitting books....

It's all about spending priorities, isn't it? Judging from hers, I'm betting we can't count on a Vice President Palin to support yarn subsidies for knitters. I wonder, is there a knitter on the Democratic ticket? Does anyone even care about the knitting vote?


And now back to our regularly scheduled feature -

1. Sauerkraut (again!) - it migrated back into the refrigerator while I was still trying to decide whether or not to toss it.
2. 2 Gladware containers of mashed potatoes
3. 1 Gladware container of some kidney bean concoction - it was slated for the freezer, but someone shoved it into the back of the fridge instead.
4. Our scrambled eggs from last week - I told you so.
5. A CorningWare pot half full (or half empty, depending upon your outlook) of homemade chicken noodle soup. My kids like the canned stuff better. What can I say? They're sodium junkies.
6. And in the back is some leftover Amigo Chicken Tortilla Soup from SavingDinner. This tasted pretty good; but then Anna decided that it smelled like the sausage chowder she had thrown up 2 years ago, and now no one wants to eat it. Including y'all, I suppose...
   

I must say, it is a wonder how I am able to work the subject of vomit into almost any post. I do pride myself on it.

Bloggy Book Club Winner! Finally!

I lay around half of today with some undefined illness. I thought it was a cold, but then my skin started hurting. So then I decided I was dying. Maybe it's because I don't drink coffee. According to this article on coffee consumption, I no longer need to worry about my husband's several-cups-a-day coffee habit. Apparently, coffee is so beneficial, those of us who don't indulge should probably pay higher medical and life insurance rates. So now I have to worry about the fact that I cannot stand the stuff and am therefore more likely to suffer from heart disease and Parkinsons than is Larry. Somehow, that doesn't seem fair, as I am not the one with an addiction.

And this article is suggesting that we switch to a kangaroo-meat burger. The scientist pushing for the idea stops just short of saying that kangaroo tastes like chicken (but I'll bet he is thinking it). Unfortunately, the article features a picture of a mommy kangaroo with a joey in her pouch; so the whole idea comes off as seeming rather mean. Plus, I've read Katy No-Pocket a few too many times to think about slathering her kin in ketchup and feeding them to my brood.

And finally, the moment you have all given up waiting for...the winner of last week's (no, wait, 2 weeks ago) Bloggy Book Club giveaway is...Rebecca of...wait a sec...hmmm...I'm not sure.

(Give me a break - this is harder than it looks, okay?)

I think it might be Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm - no, stop that! - of The Upside-Down World. That's a Wordpress blog, but I let her win anyway. Because I'm honest like that.

Perusing Rebecca's blog (if this is indeed the correct Rebecca), you will find that she possesses an analytical mind which produces a well-thought-out opinion about absolutely everything. Her mental acumen impresses me, as I seem to have reached a point in my life where all I think about are blog posts, what to make for dinner, and how much longer is it until bedtime, anyway? So I read her blog and pretend I'm thinking about all that other stuff, too, just to make myself feel better.

I'm living a lie, I know.

So, Rebecca, if you wish to receive your copy of Leave The Building Quickly, just let me know your address, okay? And, really, I am going to mail all these books out this week. I have a plan.

And this week's book? Hmmm....how about Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott? (I know, I know, another memoir - I told you, I'm addicted to these things. Can't read just one!) Ms. Lamott is a liberal Christian writer (meaning that both those aspects of her personality are front and center in her writing). The stories of her life (her childhood as a tennis star, her alcohol abuse, her single motherdom, her conversion) make for some very interesting and entertaining reading - unlike, say, the stories of my life would make.

Tell me, am I the only person in the world who did absolutely nothing growing up besides go to school, visit the mall, and talk on the phone? Occasionally I'd mix it up a bit by going to a friend's house on a Friday night, where we would eat Doritos and watch The Loveboat - but that was as wild as it got.

Oh, and I went bowling once. I think.

Anyway, I have no hilarious/heartwarming/thought-provoking tales to tell of broken curfews, crazy parties, the fallout of divorce, or the like. None. Nada. Zilch. I blame my parents.

So I live vicariously (or, at least, voyeuristically) through Anne Lamott's stories. Some of the events described are pretty messed up (at least, that's the way they seem to a Miss Goody Two-Shoes like me), but the author tells them well with a sort of endearing, self-deprecating (but not deadpan) sense of humor.

I suspect the NY Review of Books is not going to be calling me anytime soon to write for them.

[Rules are as always: in the comments, tell me that you are interested in the book; I'll hold a drawing next week (or maybe I'll figure out that random number generator thing - miracles do happen). The winner is expected to review the book in his/her blog and then give it away to another blogger to do the same.]

In The News

You may think we Americans don't have problems, compared to the rest of the world, but I can prove you wrong. Just check out this article in the Washington Post. Look at how we are suffering.

You didn't click, did you? Okay, I'll tell you - it's titled "Cheat Sheets?"

Fuzzy Industry Standards Leave Consumers Lost In the Thread Counts

"It's just gotten ridiculous," said one local shopper, Susan Van Hemel of Fairfax. "It's become so hard to figure out what to buy. And sheets now are so expensive, you can make a costly mistake."

Honey, I can help you. Go to Target. Pick up a queen-size set of sheets for 30 bucks. It's that easy. Really. If the extra money you would have spent is burning a hole in your pocket, send it to me. Or maybe send it to an organization that is helping cyclone victims in Myanmar, or earthquake victims in China.

And if your new sheets don't seem comfy enough, get more tired before you go to bed, okay?

Sheesh - talk about having too many choices and too much money to spend on them.


And, then, in the "how much can we show off that children haven't changed our lives?" category, we have this handy-dandy article on how to take your infant backpacking. Real backcountry backpacking. Because that's what I like to do: strap an infant on my chest, put a 30-pound pack on my back, and head for the woods.

You know, the only reason I would be heading for the woods would be to get away from the crying baby, not to take him with me.

Look at the picture that accompanies this article (I can't upload it - aaargh!) and tell me: just what is this woman trying to prove? Maybe it's a first-baby thing - you know, you're anxious to prove that babies haven't changed your life one bit; you're still a normal person even though you change poopy diapers and catch spit-up food in your hands.

Me, I've got nothing to prove. And my inordinate fondness for indoor plumbing would prevent my ever even entertaining the idea of doing this. What? Life isn't challenging enough with a baby at home, you need to take him on the trail? Good grief.

That's all tonight, folks. I'd like to get to bed before midnight for once. And we've got 9 tons of stone dust to move tomorrow. We try to save this sort of work for when the temperature is above 90 degrees - that way we can sweat out all our toxins while we shovel.

Multi-tasking is the way to go.

[I can't fix the orange mess up there. I tried.]

Health News

This just in (according to the BBC): vitamins are bad for you. You can put this information in the "Why Even Bother, We Are All Going To Die Anyway" section of your brain. I file it right next to the information that because I retain belly fat (excuse me, I mean visceral adipose tissue), I am going to suffer from heart disease, diabetes, and Alzheimer's. I guess the Alzheimer's will be a blessing, as it will keep me from being aware of just how miserably unhealthy I am.

Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

I woke up this morning and thought, "My clothes from last year are all ugly, and I ate too many cookies yesterday." So, I am getting my hair cut. A new hairstyle is a way cheaper (and faster) method of boosting one's self-esteem than either therapy or drugs. Unless, of course, the haircut turns out lousy. But what is life without a little risk-taking?