Hate it when I decide to make baking powder biscuits and discover there is only 1/2 teaspoon baking powder left. Or set the dishwasher on "Start" and find the detergent box is empty. This is one of life's inconveniences that really bugs me, so years ago I began adding things to the grocery list as soon as they started to run low. This has worked so well that I hardly ever run out of anything. But there is a funny little side-effect to this custom: Once you have the refill on your pantry shelf, the original product seems to last forever! You squeeze the toothpaste tube down to that last inch or so and you have toothpaste for days and days. That 1/3 bottle of soy sauce has a longer life than the Tabasco sauce that you bought two years ago. It is like the old fable about the fisherman and his jug of milk, or whatever it was. It never ran dry. Quite often, so much time goes by that I have forgotten that I bought a refill and I put it on the list again, so now I have two jars of whatever in reserve. I have just discovered two 5-lb. bags of whole wheat flour in my pantry. Once I found seven cans of beets on a back shelf. Of course, this problem is worse now that I do so little cooking, and I have a feeling when I finally move on that my heirs are going to wonder what I expected to do with two large containers of Chinese mustard, fourteen cans of tomato sauce and those jars of aniseseed and bottles of clam juice. But in the meantime, if I should ever need a bottle of clam juice, I won't have to panic. Got one right here in my pantry!
I have just read a book called "In the Woods" by Tana French. Not a bad book, but I found......not the "hero", but the main character, who narrates the story.......to be one of the most unpleasant characters I have met in a long time. He is arrogant, cold, self-centered and, in the end, stupid. Granted in his childhood he suffered a very traumatic experience, around which the novel is centered, but he did not learn anything of empathy or understanding from it. The story itself is quite interesting and if it had not been for this unsympathetic jerk, I would have enjoyed it quite a bit. It concerns the murder of a 12-year-old girl and is set in Ireland. I would give it three stars, four if not for Detective Ryan.
(How's that for a objective review?)
As everyone who knows me knows, my sense of humor is on the quirky side and things that tickle me have many people shaking their heads or looking around the room in bewilderment. This is one of those episodes that just gives me the giggles whenever I think about it: Picture Erik and me in a doctor's office late one evening. Erik has been feeling ill and the doctor has agreed to see us. He wants a urine sample and the nurse comes in with her little cup. She says, "Go in this." Unfortunately, try as he will, Erik is not able to oblige. The nurse says, "Try to go." Nothing. The nurse comes back in. "The doctor really needs you to go." Nothing. The nurse returns. "You have to go, it is important." Nothing. "I can't understand why you can't go." Finally......a small sample. The nurse bounces back in, takes one look and whoops, "You WENT!!"
OK. So I was probably over-tired.
Heard a cute mondegreen today. Jon Carroll, the SF columnist, was interested to hear about a hurricane barrel, which he surmised must be the opposite of the eye. That is, the place of greatest turbulence. His wife set him straight by pointing out that the hurricane (later, tropical storm) which was forming in the Atlantic had been named Hurricane Beryl.
One of my cousins was named Beryl, but we pronounced it Burl. Her sister was called Edwina, after her father, Edwin, and we pronounced it EDwina. I think most people say EdWINNA. As both Erika and I (ERika in English, eREEka in Swedish) have pointed out in our blogs, names, and especially first names, are important parts of our personalities and deserve to be respected and pronounced (and spelled) according to the preferences of the person whose name it is. One of my neighbors is called Dorotha. She sets you straight the moment you meet her: not Dorothy. I once knew someone named AnnaHarriet. A beautiful name and not to be shortened. Another acquaintance years ago was named Inerz and sharply corrected you if you called her Inez. Even if you don't like your name, it is yours and identifies you as a person. It is why parents should be very careful in choosing names for their kids. My sister, Iris, never cared much for her name, but as she said, philosophically, "I guess I should be grateful. Mother almost named me Pansy."
End of meanderings. For now.
