Culinary thoughts after a long day.
Milk. The name of the food is the same as the process by which it’s gotten. Are there others?
And what about oranges? Foods whose names are the same as their colors? Why isn’t a lemon called a yellow, and a lime called a green?
What in the Sam Hill is going on here?
Here’s the most recent fun discovery from Portland: Every year, for the past 30 years, an unknown person - the “Valentine’s Day Bandit” - has marched around the city in the early-morning hours on Valentine’s Day, and hung hearts from nearly every street-level window downtown. The Bandit also has figured out how to hang enormous hearts painted on what look like white sheets on the sides of some of the city’s buildings. Apparently, no one has been able to figure out who’s doing this each year, which makes it even funnier. There seems to be an understanding that the hearts plastered everywhere are not to be touched until Valentine’s Day is over, or locals get very worked up and protective. Maybe Thom and I should traipse around downtown in the wee hours of St. Patrick’s Day morning, hanging shamrocks, just to see if we wind up getting discovered. Or arrested.
Nice snowstorm all day today, which gave me chance to wheel out my shiny new MegaTestosterone 300 SnowCrusher. Oh what fun!
I sprayed and plowed and threw and cleared to my heart’s content. And only caught Jen watching me nervously once or twice.
Two quick points, now that I’m an expert. Point One: the damn thing will start better if you remember to open the fuel flow valve. Point Two: throwing snow into the wind is a little silly. It’s how the natives identify newcomers like me.
Sort this out: A couple of friends in DC (and you know who you are) find it useless to wear appropriate clothing, even when it’s freezing outside. And nobody seems to think it odd when you run outside quickly without appropriate winter gear. It’s just a quick trip, after all.
So I’m a bit surprised to find myself repeatedly challenged up here when I make a quick dash from heated car to heated building, or wherever, and I’m not bundled for a blizzard. Happens all the time.
“Hey, why don’t you have a coat on? It’s cold outside!”
“Aren’t you a hardy New Englander who laughs at nor’easters? Why the hassle over the coat? I’m only outside for three seconds.”
I don’t understand it.
Well you should see me now! My beloved Pittsburgh Steelers won the Super Bowl. I feel like the 13-year-old kid I was in 1980 when they won the last one. Minus the Lynn Swann jersey, alas.
Bill Cower on Mt. Rushmore. His mug would certainly look good up there.
You should see Lloyd Thomas Householder III right now. Pittsburgh’s ahead, 14-3, and they’re “gittin’ about to score again!”, I’ve been informed. Charlie always thinks he’s in trouble every time there’s a Steelers game on, because Thom scares the bejeezus out of the poor little guy by hollering every time a Steeler does anything apparently holler-worthy.