Ice Is Slowly Melting

Though I promised Reverend Billy of the Church of Earthalujah I’d only buy free-range thongs and locally grown bras, I admit to backsliding so my ample rack wouldn’t, by which I mean bras were on sale at Stein Mart and I bought three. They were probably made in China but I can’t read the tag pressed up against my yoga-toned back muscles. Is it hot in here or is Climate Change happy to see me?

This chart is full of untasty surprises.

Tomatoes? How can yogurt and cheese be so different?

The report is worth reading, mostly for the purposes of review. You know how it is: you read something, your brain knits into socks you recognize in your mental sock drawer, then a year later, your brother-in-law tells you everyone has always worn striped tights. You know it’s not true, but how do you prove he’s a raving nutburger? So read the report.

You Tell Me What’s Going

When I saw the commercial for this, I growled, “Grrrr. Ruh roh.” I don’t have to see this movie to know it’s bad news. For crying out loud, it’s called The Help, which, if you know anything about using or have ever used words yourself, should tell you this movie is the latest in a long series in which White folks tell you all about Black folks.

It will not startle you to discover I am not alone in feeling that way. Further, that Oprah loves it in 2011 caused me to frown until I developed a headache, which helped me forget where I read about Oprah. About that, I have mixed feelings.

One Place Anymore It Would Be

Eons ago, Minstrel Boy sent me a recipe for Cherry Spread. A few weeks ago, I felt ready to road test it. On the left: results. On the right, the Ball cookbook’s Lemon Cucumber Pickles. Kale and cabbage grow in the window box outside the kitchen window, where Topaz likes to nap in the mid-morning sun. Nearly every day, I’m jarring or freezing something, making notes or labeling jars. As existences go, it’s a bit monastic, but I love it.

I Won’t Be Leaving Here With You

Talk about missing the pointy-point-point:

I think Democrats can make a move in the right direction if work to re-bridge the communication divide by not just looking to hire “New Media strategists” (BTW I loathe people still using the term “new media” in freaking 2011) or “social media gurus” who can help them put up some meaningless blog post or launch Twitter accounts, but by bringing in staffers with progressive policy and political gravitas who fundamentally “get” the zeitgeist of both off and online left. As mentioned, above Democrats took some baby steps baby steps back in ’04-05 following the rise of Netroots, and showed some encouraging signs all the way up to 2008, but in last two years despite the explosion in social media communities, the engagement fundamentally has been stalled. I don’t believe we are going to get moving any time soon unless sincere efforts are made to bridge the enormous divide between DC and the Netroots. As prescribed above, a couple of good places to start would be to immediately move away from the extreme rightward tilt in policy and by re-engaging with the Netroots in a meaningful way that is not based on superficial focus on tools but policy.

Sorry, pumpkin, but unless you’ve got an assload of cash and your own offshore labor force, the Democratic Party just isn’t into you. From an acceptable social distance, it’s easy to see you’re terribly impressed with your connections, but what you’ve failed to notice is that the Democratic Party isn’t interested in hanging out with its base anymore. Communication isn’t going to help, since the base has been communicating its desires clearly for decades, while the Party has communicated its desire to avoid its base like a bad smell. The Party has plans, darling, that don’t include protecting the poor, the elderly, minorities, workers, the sick, women and children – and veterans had better watch out, too. For you to stand there and argue about decision-making streams and conversations is so 2005.

It’s over, darling. Someone may line up behind your velvet rope, but I sincerely hope not and it certainly won’t be me.

As An Apple On Christmas Day

Get a load of this from Bed, Bath & Beyond:

Frigging miracle. I do not lie!

Enjoy pitted cherries anytime with this easy to use cherry pitter. It pits up to four cherries at once, and is reversible to accommodate both small and large cherries. The spring loaded mechanism provides ease of use in one easy motion, and the pits fall into the attached chamber for mess-free pitting and easy disposal, keeping counters clean. Lid locks for compact storage. Measures 7″ L x 2 3/4″ W x 2 1/4″ H. Pitter disassembles and is dishwasher safe.

Perhaps you remember or perhaps you’ve blissfully blotted out the memory of last year’s cherry pitting ordeal. We sat in the backyard for what seemed like weeks, pitting cherries, tossing seeds and sending springs into the stratosphere that reappeared months later on the roof. The single-cherry cherry pitter itself broke in my hand and though the paring knife seemed the best alternative, my hands can’t really handle it. I despaired for my career as a concert pianist. Anyhoo, I shopped for a better device and found this wacky thing at Bed, Bath & Beyond, where it was not at all cheap and I gulped as I paid for two, using 20% off coupons because I am crazy, not stupid and have never taken a piano lesson. We pitted 14 pounds of cherries in less than half an hour and most of that was deciding whose yard we would bless with future cherry trees.