If you tell people that the fake-fur winter vest that your mom sewed for you is made of Yeti, approximately 75% will laugh. You’ll want to keep an eye on the 25% who nod knowlingly.
Archive for January, 2009
This weekend’s forecast calls for an AC/DC concert and a trip to Trader Joe’s in Nashville, among other awesome activities. I’ve put up with a good deal of bad weather over the past few years, Mother Nature, so be a doll and keep your ice storms to yourself. KTHNX
My grandmothers were polar opposites. My maternal grandmother was the traditional one, a proper Southern Baptist farm wife. My paternal grandmother was, well, a little less proper. Divorced two or three times, she was a single mother who showed little interest in domesticity.
During visits with my mother’s family, my brother and I could look forward to plenty of homemade food, including veggies from the garden and entrees from the livestock roaming the fields.
During visits with my father’s mother, we could count on a can of soup, a bottle of Coke and a bowl of sherbet. If we were good, we got to flick the lighter for her endless lineup of cigarettes.
She died when I was 18. Turns out a lifetime of Chesterfields wasn’t the best health plan. She died before we got a chance to know each other as adults, but I think we would have been great friends.
If ever there was a food that should be an innocuous non-memory, it would be sherbet. I will forever associate it with my grandmother, however, because back then, it was exotic and rare, kind of like her.
Thanks to the New York Times, I made a batch of tangerine sherbet recently, a venture that my grandmother would have found ludicrous. It was tastier than any store-bought sherbet that ever came out of her freezer, but it brought back the same bittersweet memories.
In a recent discussion of “Why doesn’t Chewbacca get a medal too?” my husband suggested that maybe Wookiees don’t like medals. I maintained that Chewbacca wouldn’t mind wearing a medal because he already wears a bandolier and is thus used to sporting a little bling. Now I’m having second thoughts, because the medal might smack against the bandolier, irritating the Wookiee and maybe even damaging his ammo.
I hear some people discuss politics at dinner.
During my holiday time-wasting, I came across the 25 Things About Me meme in dozens of blogs.
I couldn’t come up with 25 fascinating things about myself at once even after a proper dose of coffee. Besides, any list with more than, say, eight items is really pushing the limits of my patience.
Thus, I give you 2 Diametrically Opposed Things About Me:
- I was a majorette for a year in junior high. Baton, sequins, the works.
- I still own a set of D&D dice.