Next Time Around You Could Be

The nicest thing I can say about this sad chick flick

I lifted this piksha from Think Progress and my fingers are still sticky.

– is that it flunks the Bechdel Test.

Fortunately, I’m not a nice person. Darrell Issa can kiss my entire ass and most of yours too.

A Rocket Launched To the Great Blue Yonder

Yesterday I remembered it was winter, the time I’d said I wanted to jar stock for the summer, when I apparently drink it as a mixer. I can’t explain that. Anyway, the doorway to this better future was the pressure canner Pete bought me a year ago and which I had not developed the nerve to try. I washed out some jars, heated some lids and road tested the pressure canner. It was a test of courage. I removed cats from the kitchen. I hunkered down with both chicken and mushroom stocks, jars, lids, rings and a Sharpie for labeling. Liquids came to their various temperatures, moved to proper locations and eventually to one large pot with a rattling pressure regulator. Pete hovered nearby, advising on procedural matters and wielding tongs. Finally, a timer rang and we turned off the heat to let everything cool. We fled the kitchen to celebrate our success from a safe distance. Huzzah!

The canning instructions at Doris And Jilly Cook were straight forward and invaluable. While unnerving, the process wasn’t difficult. We’ll wait a week or two, then open a jar to test it. I feel braver already.

Clearly A Case For Cornflakes And Classics

Siobhan: Holy crap! It’s snowing!
Tata: Where…where are you?
Siobhan: Bridgewater. Why?
Tata: Because here it’s sunny and windy.
Siobhan: You would not believe how much snow is on my windshield!
Tata: Maybe you have your own weather now. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Think back: did you call the Chinese place and order a frozen microburst?

As soon as we swore to be mortal enemies and hung up on each other – our customary sign-off – I observed what looked like a very sunny blizzard on the street in front of my house and clear blue sky in my backyard. So naturally I wondered if my house was approaching the speed of light and how much Dramamine I might need for that.

Do You Don’t You Want

Every day brings news we don’t expect to hear, like that modern goat herders –

may be less lonely than they used to be.

In other news, goats look like they might be excellent playmates and I want them. Want! I would like to dress them up like the cast of Mad Men and walk them on leashes to the drug store in the center of town. What could go wrong?

Watching the Wheels

The laptop is a paper weight, so posting might be interesting for a few days. Rumor has it other, normal people can post from their phones, but it takes me a year to type a sentence on my phone. This morning, I couldn’t get the thing to show me locations and hours for the store I was proposing to empty into my trunk, so I had to simply show up with legal tender and hope for the best. Generally speaking, hopeful is not an excellent way to enter into transactions.

Today, I gathered up my coupons and went on my annual pilgrimage to Harmon Discount Beauty Supplies, where I think we can agree I buy a lot of beauty. I say without shame I spent hours there, reading labels and choosing exactly what products I wanted to try out, what old favorites I’d stick by and discerning what the spring nail polish collections were doing, color-wise. Pete was working at the bagel shop, which saved him from what would certainly have amounted to blackout-inducing tedium, but probably wouldn’t have protected him from the almost seismic shock to my checking account. When I described it to him later, Pete said, “It’s your money. You can spend it how you like. Or bail out Greece.” Yes, I watched it add up, add up and add up while thinking about those coupons lying on the counter between me and the cashier like a lottery ticket. The grand total should have been alarming, but then she started scanning the coupons, a little doubtful at first that the register would accept them. After a few $5 coupons went through, she said, “I’m just going to scan them until it tells me to stop.” Her plan sounded great to me and when she was done, the register recalculated the total from the beginning and off came just about $56. If my husband finds that yard-long register tape, he might pass out anyway and I am not exaggerating even a tiny, tiny bit.

Can’t Be Silent ‘Cause They Might Be

Beautiful Drusy tests her glamorous felted bed for softness.

Just over a week ago, a friend recommended the handmade pet beds of Boxcar Kids and I ordered two, which I expected some time next week. They arrived today and they are posh and colorful and completely gorgeous. Sweetpea regarded the beds with dainty suspicion, while Topaz watched from a respectful distance. Drusy took a flying leap at the fluffy green one, then rolled through the shimmering pink, yellow and blue bed.

Sweetpea cannot believe her smelly good fortune.

The Boxcar Kids story is harrowing, but the upshot is you can buy beautiful, handmade crafts that will make your life cooler and your pets’ lives happier, while improving the lives of real people. Everyone wins. These festive pet beds will make lovely gifts for your pert animal friends and their delightful humans, too. For what occasion? you ask. Mardi Gras is coming up, but so’s Easter, Passover, Arbor Day, any old full moon, the equinox, Earth Day, birthdays, dinner parties, not to mention parent-teacher conferences and Meatless Mondays.

Save your pennies. You’re going to want six.