Friday, January 24, 2014

repeat musing

on my morning walk in the teeny cold temperatures and smelling the aroma of cinnamon and sugar in the chill air: Who is luckier—the woman who loves donuts and lives around the corner from the donut shop, or the woman who doesn’t like eating donuts and lives around the corner from the donut shop?  



Thursday, January 16, 2014

The Wonder of it All

Yes, Virginia, this really was a real Christmas article in the local newspaper in the last century. For the children, you know.

from the archives: 



Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Multiple Choice

From the archives...I am thinking this was in the last century, 1989 or 91--true life annals or personality quiz?

                                                           
                                          ONE OF THOSE DAYS IN NOVEMBER

SITUATION:

            You have worked really hard at your job, putting in overtime and assuming additional responsibilities. Your willingness to work and your dedication to your job is not reflected in your pay. When your boss wants to lecture on responsibility, he will call you and another higher-paid, nail-polishing, checkbook balancing, early-leaving employee into his office and say he depends on the two of you to cover all bases. For your response choose one of the following:

A. You pick up the marble dolphin and bludgeon him to death, knowing the severest charge they might convict you on is involuntary manslaughter.

B.     You thank your boss graciously for enlightening you on professional ethics and responsibilities, and throw yourself into your job with renewed vigor, hoping to prove yourself capable.

C.     You speak casually of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. 

D.    You develop a headache, go home, work on your resume, and drop by the local Wal-mart for a supply of fingernail polish.          

Monday, January 13, 2014

Makes You Wonder


Kumbucha now appears on all the ritziest places on the web. According to Wiki, "Kumbucha is  a sightly effervescent fermented drink of sweetened black tea that is used as a functional food. It is produced by fermenting the tea using a symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast, or "SCOBY". Although kombucha is claimed to have several beneficial effects on health, these claims are not supported by scientific evidence. Drinking kombucha has been linked to serious side effects and deaths, and improper preparation can lead to contamination.[1]"

Years ago a friend gave me a scoby that lived in my hall closet. It wasn’t the slave master that friendship  bread*  is, but it did require time and attention, it made babies and I had heard there was a possibility of contamination. In a moment of liberation I threw it into the compost heap. For several years after that we had no earthworms. ?????


* just in case you didn't know about friendship bread http://www.momswhothink.com/bread-recipes/amish-friendship-bread.html

Sunday, May 8, 2011

They Make Her Ask

medical clerk: Religious preference?

patient: Enlightenment?

medical clerk: We can just put nothing.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Dream Fragment

Cleaning out that room, I found a note, May 2, not sure what year.

I am looking up at a waterfall. Next to it is a cliff, and on the cliff, a tree.

A voice says, “The water nourishes the tree. It erodes the stone. The cliff crumbles, the tree falls. Such is the cycle of life.”

Thursday, October 15, 2009

UPTOWN

An-unusual-night-out-on-our-small-town included the authors’ readings at our luscious indie bookstore, which in a larger city would be considered trendy. Afterwards I picked up a paperback, one of those not with a slick covering but with that thick pulpy cover that screams Quality. Both the owner and the very-knowledgeable clerk were behind the counter. As the clerk took my money and handed me the book, I could hear the rain pounding the sidewalks. My next stop was a small bar a block away.

“Can you put that in something?” I asked.

The clerk looked flummoxed.

“A bag,” the owner whispered. “She wants a bag.”

The clerk heaved a sigh of relief and dug under the counter. He fished up a thin paper sack. If I carried my new compelling book out in that sack, within seconds it would swell up like a marshmallow without me even having had the pleasure of reading it in the tub.

"Do you have plastic?” I asked.

I think for a second the universe stopped. In a musical it would have been the moment after poor orphaned Oliver said, "More food, please."

The clerk began pawing under the counter again.

“We don’t have any plastic,” the owner said. “We don’t have any plastic,” he repeated, his voice an octave lower.

“No plastic,” the clerk whispered.

I considered how big a carbon footprint I would make if I left my book and came back the next day to pick it up, if it weren't still raining which it had been doing almost every day for six weeks as if we lived in Oregon and not in Mississippi.

In silence the three of us stared, them at me, me at them, and then the three of us at a plastic bag filled with store supplies someone had left on the counter.

“Here’s a plastic bag.” The owner sounded as if a life raft had been spotted from his sinking ship.

“A plastic bag,” the clerk said. He could have been making a toast.

Folks, there were maybe fifty people in that classy bookstore that rainy night, all buying books m a d e o u t o f p a p e r. I was the only one who requested plastic.

I promised to use the bag to pick up my dog’s poop. The clerk laughed, but it could have just been nervousness.

Of course I repeated the story to my husband when I got home, just as I’m telling you now.

“Green,” said the curmudgeon. “It’s the new puce.”

He’s a smart man. I am sure he knows puce is not really a green. He just liked the way puce sounded. Say it out loud. You'll understand.