Damn, do I miss the bike path, the blue sky and the New York City skyline. I do not miss the sand, since New Jersey ran out of rock salt and my house is full of second-rate grit.
A Room Without A Roof
Monthly Archives: February 2014
Lost In A Paper Cup
That’s it. I’m breaking up with winter.
Hey Man Nice Shot
Pirate Wednesday is chasing a red glitter lipstick around the dining room floor. And then there’s this, found in a forgotten cabinet.
Ain’t No Rhyme For Oranges
Since you asked, I do love a good tablecloth.
In A Little While You’ll See
Photo by Bob Hosh. He says, “This lovely white rose infused with the palest shell-pink is labeled ‘Rose Marie’ at the R. W. van der Goot Rose Garden in Somerset, New Jersey.”
Many Fantasies Were Learned On That Day
Awhile back, my stepsister Anya was talking and I was sort of half-listening because – shaaaa! – when I suddenly heard something worth hearing. It was like, “Blah blah blah that’s like my aunt says, ‘Why would anybody use a brownie mix when they’re so easy to make from scratch?'” I filed that idea away: brownies are not just easy to make, but super-easy. I almost wish I’d been listening, although that would have involved effort or something.
Still hot, like me.
Today is my birthday and, for my birthday, I decided to learn how to make brownies from scratch. The old Joy Of Cooking has a few pages on brownies and the steps looked pretty simple, so I dragged out the cupcake pan and gave it a go. It’s easy! It’s like suddenly having a new magic power! Why the cupcake pan? you ask. Because with great power comes great responsibility, like knowing to stop eating these delicious things after a modest five or six.
People Get Sick They Play the Wrong Games
Well, lookee here. The river done blowed up:
NEW BRUNSWICK, NJ–A gas pipeline owned by PSE&G ruptured today under the Raritan River, causing two geysers of natural gas to erupt near the Northeast Corridor rail bridge.
The ruptured line has sent strong odors of natural gas wafting through the area, with complaints of the smell coming from as far away as Highland Park High School.
I stayed home from work this morning because I am currently arthritis’ bitch and pools of slush froze everywhere overnight. Skating rinks are not for creaky me. Thus, I was surprised when Pete told me a pipe under the river broke and the sleepy, ice-clogged Raritan was bubbling up like Old Faithful. But wait! The article includes video!
Bless my buttons, that is the train bridge for the Northeast Corridor train and the video is taken from the bridge Pete and I bicycle across on our way to the library. The bridges do not feel like they are far apart and they aren’t, probably about one-third of a mile at most. The high school mentioned in the article is less than a mile away.
New Brunswick and Highland Park took decent beatings during Hurricane Sandy, the hurricane before Sandy and a good handful of storms since. We had two water main breaks recently, then a lengthy power outage problem after a couple of substation fires. We have the totally unneeded but not unexpected problem of Chris Christie’s corrupt business practices laid at our doorstep and now the Raritan’s a geyser. We can’t afford those natural gas pipelines across the state the Powers That Be propose because they don’t take care of them and shit happens. I, for one, am finding infrastructure investment increasingly meow-meow sexy.
A Bit Of What Is All Around You
Drusy and Topaz inspect today’s shipment of art supplies, by which I mean yarn from a nice person in Casper, Wyoming for the cat blanket project. If you open the door, someone else’s generosity can barge in and blow your mind.
The Point I Can Tell You
We’re expecting more – I can’t even say it.
To Love Somebody the Way
When the snow is especially deep, we bundle up like cartoon characters and undertake the traditional Arctic Excursion to the Grocery Store, though we can plainly see others have gone ahead to the Pole.
Poor Impulse Control 