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« September 2007 | Main | November 2007 »
Saturday, October 27, 2007 - 18:00:30
Random Missives
Dear Lucky Magazine: Who can drop $642 on ONE BLOUSE and consider it a "lucky" find? What is your target demographic? Just curious. I guess, if I could do that, I WOULD be lucky.Dear Mattel: You are on my list. We'll talk more about this later, you lying, deceiving, crap-monger.
Dear Migraine-Inducing Barometric Pressure: Get lost, already. Lighten up. Everything's nice and soaked, you can move along now.
Dear Concerned Friends: Please stop forwarding me the email about boycotting the upcoming film version of "The Golden Compass" because it is "anti-God." Seriously--I've received this email eleventy-million times in the last three days, and not one of those missives has come from someone who has seen this movie or even read any of the "His Dark Materials" series. Why should we be afraid of things that are "anti-God," anyway? Christianity is all about free will. It's a personal choice we make to accept Christ or not. If we could remove every influence in the world that was not Godly, well, then it wouldn't be much of a "choice," would it? It would seem to me that this film or the book it's based on might provide a prime opportunity to discuss important theological issues with our children, particularly the difference between faith and religion...but that's just me. Anyway, I know you mean well, but I've read the email, and the linked Snopes.com report now more than once. I'm good.
Dear Arkansas Immigration Alarmists: For your own mental health, accept the inevitable. We have a larger and larger influx of hispanics to this state every day, and I haven't seen anything you've proposed that's going to slow it down much, much less stop it. Take a breath, and start learning Spanish. We are.
Dear Internet: I think we're growing apart. It's not you, it's me. OK, it's mostly you. Give me things I NEED, or I'm going to have to start looking elsewhere.
Dear Real Life: Thank you for getting better. I couldn't have taken yet another sucky year.
Dear Family: I love you guys.
Dear Husband and Daughter: I am checking out of the Volume Race around here. You two are LOUD. You are, quite honestly, the two loudest people I have ever met in my whole, entire life. Isabella, I never dreamed that I would ever meet anyone as loud as your father...and then YOU came along. You were such a quiet baby. Can't we get back to that? I'm interested in everything the both of you have to say to me, but here's the thing: I'M RIGHT HERE. I can HEAR you. Just talk, in a normal human conversational tone, for the love of my eardrums. I'm not going to compete to be heard any more. If you want to hear what I have to say, you're going to have to hush up and listen, because I'm not gonna holler any more.
Dear Wal-Mart grocery department: You disappoint me. I occasionally shop with you when I just need a few things for one dinner, and also have to buy, say, a bucket or a belt-sander at the same time. Why does the biggest store in the universe have such a limited selection? It's weird. Congratulations on carrying Pocky, though.
Dear Kroger in Jacksonville: I love you. You have everything I need, and you double my coupons--even when I have half a dozen for the same item. You're clean and well-organized and not overwhelming, and you offer a varied selection of ethnic grocery items. Please treat your employees better so they don't always look so sour (see next item).
Dear Kroger in Cabot: You are new and shiny and clean and bright. You have super-wide aisles and the happiest staff I've ever seen at a grocery store in my life. When I dropped a jar of pizza-sauce and it smashed on the spotless floor, not only was there someone cleaning it up almost before the sound of the impact reached my ears, but he was HAPPY about it, smiling from ear to ear and cracking jokes about how at least I didn't drop the pricey stuff. You need to talk to the Jacksonville branch about how to keep your workers happy. BUT, Kroger in Cabot, when I have a choice, I don't choose you, even with your big comfy aisles and your happy employees. I choose Kroger in Jacksonville. Because, Kroger in Cabot, the layout of your store is INSANE. Like items belong together. I know it's probably some strategy to increase shopper exposure to as many items as possible, thereby increasing impulse purchases, but you know what? When I have to double back and re-trace my steps, it just annoys me. I wind up leaving without things I wanted to buy, just because I can't find them easily, and that is losing you money.
Dear local trees: I know it was 80 degrees until last week, but let's go with the foliage changing already.
Dear red pickup truck: I am SO tired of making payments on you. The next seven months can not go by quickly enough, as far as you're concerned.
Dear white Tahoe: Thank you for not breaking down, even though you're all paid for. Please last several more years, or at least until I can trade you in for something more reasonable. It's not you, it's just that I now have a husband, who has his own truck, so I no longer need your big engine or towing ability. When you're gone, I will miss you, though.
Dear house and 5 acres: You are on borrowed time. If the real estate market weren't so depressed right now, you would SO be up on the block. We're allergic to all your multitude of trees, and your weird, weird floor-plan is not cute any more. I am trying to like you better, so work with me, OK? This is your time to shine, in some way.
Dear poodles: It would be great if you guys could learn to bathe yourselves. You're smart enough--I really think you could do it. Give it some thought, OK? I'll keep the good food coming. Stay out of the trash.
Dear Invader Zim: Come back.
Dear Mario Van Peebles: I don't know where you've been for the last several years, but "Damages" was truly awesome. I noticed that you put yourself into the final episodes, and I'm hoping that doesn't change anything next season.
Dear whoever is responsible for the plot of the "Transformers" movie: Man, you stink at the plot-writing. Never write anything for public consumption ever, ever again. The way you wrote that whole storyline made it impossible to think anything throughout 2/3 of that movie except "why don't the Autobots and the Decepticons just have a bidding war on Ebay for the stupid glasses?" That would have been just about as interesting, too.
Dear Southern Living and Mental Floss magazines: I will never stop subscribing to either of you. The love, it is fierce.
Dear Real Simple magazine: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I picked up your November issue while in the checkout line at the grocery store, due to a personal character weakness of mine when it comes to magazines. After reading an article about cleaning, with practical tips like how to clean with non-toxic items like baking soda and vinegar, I came to the article about organizing a linen closet to optimize space. There, smack in the middle of $10 tap lights and storage chests, a $12 under-shelf basket, and a $13 mini-dresser, is this thing:
It's a small plastic wall-mount organizer, kind of like a hanging shelf with hard plastic "pockets" in which to store things. It costs $310. THREE HUNDRED AND TEN DOLLARS. For a place to put your spare paperclips. Real Simple, that is neither "real" nor "simple." Are you high? What kind of a kickback are you getting from the Uten.Silo people from this incongruous product placement?Thursday, October 25, 2007 - 23:53:39
The Antidote To This Weather
There is one, and we ate it tonight. A variation on shepherd's pie, starting with an amazing recipe for something called "New Zealand Mince Stew." I don't want to turn this space into a cooking blog (and it would be a lame cooking blog, anyway), but go check it out if you're looking for something to chase away the gray-weather blues.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007 - 08:44:59
Posh Pooches Receive Curbside Service
The holiday season is upon us, and we're busy. REALLY busy. And with all the rain we've had, our pets are definitely dirty and disheveled. But with all the other errands we seem to be running every day, arranging grooming appointments for our 4-legged family members is just something that keeps getting put on the back burner, it seems...and meanwhile, the dogs don't get any cleaner. Enter the cavalry--or in this case, the Mobile Groomer.
Granted, we have a lot of dogs...let's just call it right around a half-dozen, and leave it at that. We got bitten by the dog show bug several years ago, and have not yet recovered. And to make matters more complicated, ours are poodles, which means hair, hair, and more hair. Having a non-shedding breed means a trade-off in the form of regular grooming--you MUST cut the hair, or else it just grows and grows and grows. For our showdogs, this means banding and wrapping long show-coats, and keeping the hair meticulously clean. The retired champions have it a bit easier, as they get to go relatively "naked." Keeping us on track with both these efforts is a mobile groomer--a good one.
Michelle Mace has been grooming our dogs, for both the showring and the sofa, for over a decade now. When she first took her business all mobile, under the name "Ultimutt Pet Spa" (501-438-1165), it took some getting used to, but now we're total converts. You can imagine how much easier it is having Michelle park at our front door and groom 5 or 6 dogs in a row, as opposed to me schlepping 5 or 6 dogs to a grooming shop and back again. And from her perspective, she has a much wider client-base, since she can plan grooming trips along a "route" and cover several counties in central Arkansas.
The mobile unit is equipped with hot and cold running water, super-sudser pump, a bathing tub, adjustable grooming table, and dryers, among other features. There is a vacuum hose that attaches to electric clippers, so that pet hair is whisked right into a trash receptacle instead of falling to the floor. And the "instant" nature of the mobile grooming business means that my dogs are washed, dried, clipped, and scissored by hand, and never put into a cage with a cage-dryer blasting them.
Here is one of our retired champion girls, Gabby, after her bath and blow-dry and clipping, but before any scissoring.
It's amazing to me the magic that a good groomer can work with scissors. As a rule, the more scissor-work, the better the dog looks, no matter what the breed. You just don't get as polished a finish with clippers.
And somehow, like magic, instead of a shaggy ragamuffin, I suddenly have a clean, pretty girl who's even wearing a light designer scent. And boy, do they ever know when they're pretty.
If you have pets, and those pets get dirty and/or shaggy, you might want to consider a mobile pet groomer. They sure can make your life (and your pet's) easier. And don't forget--they do cats, too (as modeled here by my own personal LOLCAT, Odette)!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007 - 08:16:51
It's Your Birthday!
OK, so it's mine. And now I'm officially IN my forties. In them, instead of just "being" 40, or better yet, having "just turned" 4o. Bleah. So far...not a fan.BUT. My mother is taking me out to dinner tonight "anywhere I'd like." To me, that pretty much begins and ends here. There's just no one I'd rather have cooking for me on a special occasion than Peter Brave. He'd have a run for his money if Miles James were closer geographically, but Miles isn't, so Peter doesn't. I may not eat all day long in anticipation of tonight.
What about you? What's your go-to answer to the question of where you'd like to eat when you can choose ANY place?
Also? Where do you find a decent (read: non-plastic) Halloween costume for a kid around here? She wants to be a "fairy," though if she looked like a butterfly, she'd be just as happy. I think the wings are the key.
Thursday, October 04, 2007 - 00:33:58
Everything Should Taste Like Bacon
The internet--at least the corners of it that I haunt--are currently abuzz with talk of a new seasoning product out of Washington State, called BaconSalt. Over Labor Day weekend, a prominent blogger posted a message on Twitter, that simply gave the product's website, and said, "I'm ordering some on Tuesday. Who's with me?" Well, a bunch of us were, because, frankly, the idea of bacon flavor with no calories or fat is pretty darn appealing. Since then, I've found BaconSalt all OVER the internet. It's a phenomenon. Don't believe me? Google it. 93,500 results as of today. I even had the curiosity to search flickr for the tag "baconsalt," and behold, there were multiple images! When people start taking pictures of jars of seasoned salt, like I did, something is definitely up.
My first impulse, once I had received and tasted the new product, was to pack some up in a little Ziploc bag, drop it into an envelope, and have it couriered over to the Times offices for Max to try--it's THAT good. But then I considered the ramifications, in this climate of Homeland Security, of delivering an envelope containing an unidentified powdery substance to a news outlet, and thought better of it.
People, get ye some BaconSalt. It's high in sodium, but, you know, it's SALT, so that's to be expected. Don't go nuts, just use it in place of where you'd use regular salt. More accurately than calling it salt, it's a seasoned salt that, in the words of one reviewer, "b***h-slaps the flavor of bacon into EVERYTHING." I can attest to that. Our first experiment was with baked potatoes, and since then we've tried it on burgers, in spinach-stuffed pasta shells, and I think we'll be making up a fresh batch of corn macque choux JUST to add BaconSalt to the mix.
The BaconSalt people are fun, too. They have a blog with tons of recipes, recipe contests, and a product line that includes t-shirts with pigs saying, "thank you" and the phrase "Everything should taste like bacon."
Well, shouldn't it?
(disclaimer--I am in no way affiliated with BaconSalt and have not received any remuneration for this review. As is true with anything I review, unless the day ever comes when I state otherwise.)
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