(plant) Babies!

I received this succulent plant years and years ago from my friend Carina.  It was part of a magnet souvenir from a trip she took to the Southwest.  Somehow, the plant never died and instead grew steadily.  However, every few years, after a cycle of being robust and happy, it gets on the verge of dying.  But this little plant is extremely resilient and it eventually bounces back and starts growing babies all over again.  Hurray!

Images from home

Sweet, sweet Bakers Square French Silk Pie. 
We ate it all. Sometimes for breakfast.

You have to love the ridiculousness of this cake.

Peppermint Bon Bon! 
I think MN is the only place that calls it that.
To everyone else it is mint chip.

Many hours of my childhood were spent here.

Cruisin' for a Bruisin'

I took a tumble last weekend while pushing my grandma cart full of laundry back home.  The cart hit a rut in the uneven pavement and went flying.  I, in turn, flew after it into the street.

Don't worry, I was fine. Picked myself up and my laundry and trudged back home, disgruntled.  Now, I am very easily bruised--if you look at me too hard a bruise will form. I am also a hyper-pigmenter, so I had a feeling things were going to get UGLY.  And they did.

Funny enough, it happened so fast, I didn't totally remember how I fell. But since my entire upper body is unscathed, I deduced that my lower body took the fall.  I think my legs fell on top of the cart and then I just rolled off.  No bracing myself with hands or arms or head. This seems to be confirmed with the cart grid lines visible through the bruises. It makes me laugh and cry to look at it.

I iced some of the bruises the first day and have been religiously putting arnica ointment on it.  So far, so good! Things are healing along:

Day 3

Day 5



Close up. Note the gridlines from the cart.





Day 11

Day 21.  Barely any trace of bruise left!

The Rooster

Virgin Island wild fowl.

I recently visited the US Virgin Islands. As expected, it was warm and sunny with beautiful beaches. It was also full of wild chickens and roosters (and donks!).  I was under the impression that roosters only crow in the mornings.  I learned the hard way that I was completely wrong.*

The damn roosters on St. John crow all day. And all night.  The first night they kept me up all night, but eventually I got used to it. And then when I got home, the crackheads on my block kept me up instead. Sigh.

*According to Wikipedia, "Some roosters are especially vociferous, crowing almost constantly, while others only crow a few times a day. These differences are dependent both upon the rooster's breed and individual personality." 

NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM!

It's Girl Scout Cookie time!

I have learned a few things about Girl Scouts and their cookies that I did not know before: 

• Each Girl Scout council develops the procedures and guidelines for its cookie activities, including the dates when you can order or purchase cookies and the price you will pay per box. A council conducts only one cookie sale per year. Most of these activities take place between January and April, but some occur as early as September.
• It is estimated that 200 million boxes of Girl Scout Cookies are sold per year.
• 70% of sales goes to the Girl Scouts, 30% goes to the bakers. 
• There are different licensed bakeries (and by bakery, I mean large company, including one owned by Keebler) and these baking companies can offer up to 28 varieties. 
• The same types of cookies are sold under different names by different bakeries and it is up to the Scout troop to determine the name (thus "Samoas" are the same as "Caramel DeLites"). 
• Thin Mints are most popular (25%) followed by Samoas (19%).  [These are my two favorite kinds.]
• In 2008, a 15-year old from Dearborn, Michigan sold 17,328 boxes of cookies. This was the all time record. And that is a lot of cookies.
  

The Many Cakes of Birthday

At my office we have a monthly birthday calendar.  Recently, more and more coworkers have gone covert and asked to be removed from the list.  For January, two people have done so leaving me as the sole January birthday.  And you know what? I like my birthday. And I like people knowing it's my birthday.  I don't work at a place where all my coworkers come up as a group and sing "Happy Birthday" with an accordion accompaniment.  There is not much hoopla except for a few kind birthday wishes and emails.

Maybe I just like the attention.

Regardless, this was a more low-key birthday week than usual, yet I received more birthday cake (and key lime pie!) than this cookie can consume.

Project File: last minute tree ornament

I was invited to tag along to a holiday party this weekend.  I found out the day before that we were supposed to bring an ornament for the Christmas tree.  I panic under such short notice.

Luckily, I have way too much stuff in my apartment, including a large bag of glove animals in various sizes.  I decided to string one up.  I must say, extra fine merino wool mini penguin was a big hit!

The House Rabbit Society Welcomes You

Anyone who knows me knows I love bunnies. I'm not ashamed. I had two rabbits: Mr. Bun, the 17lb albino during junior high, and Annabelle, the black and white lop eared sweetie.  Both were great, had their own personalities, and both had sweet tooths (one for Danish butter cookies, the other for chewy candies that were not orange flavored.) I loved them both dearly.

And because everyone who knows me knows I love rabbits, they love to give me things with rabbit themes.  I embrace them all. 

Today I was toting my oversized canvas grocery bag with a bunny silkscreened on it, and this kooky looking older lady (why do they always have frizzy hair?) comes up to me on the subway platform and asks if I have a rabbit. I say I used to have rabbits, but not anymore.  She then proceeds to tell me that she is a member of the House Rabbit Society and she owns 4 rabbits. Plus a dwarf. As if that poor tiny dwarf rabbit does not count as a real rabbit? 

I replied, "That's nice" and ran onto the opposite train.

The Worst Gift To Ever Have To Give

Recently, a lot of loved ones of my loved ones have passed away.  I didn't know these people personally, but they were parents, grandparents, and other family members of my dear friends. 

And so I've been purchasing sympathy baskets more often than wedding presents this year. It's a little weird. And sad. It is also very difficult purchasing that kind of gift. I know, it is purely a thoughtful gesture, but right now I am perusing Godiva Chocolate's "Sympathy" section and it is a hard decision which box of chocolates to send.  Is the $50 truffle selection enough? Too much?

Also, last week my coworker's father-in-law passed away and they received a ton of food while sitting shiva.  They couldn't eat it all so she brought some of it into work.  I have to admit, it felt a little uncomfortable eating chocolate chip poundcake that existed only because someone had died. 

To Do...At the Bottom of the List

Full disclosure:  I do not floss regularly. (I do brush my teeth at least twice a day.) So I was not surprised when I went for my 6 month teeth cleaning last week and the dental hygienist said to me, "You don't floss."

My response? Surprisingly, not guilty embarrassment. I think I'm getting too old for that. I said to her, "Maria, no, I don't floss. And you know what? I have a long list of things I have to do regularly: taking my meds and daily vitamin, exercising regularly, wearing sunscreen every day, moisturizing, going to all of my regular doctors appts, etc.  Flossing is just low on that list and will probably never move up."

She didn't exactly laugh, but she seemed to understand. "You should still floss, but at least you come every 6 months for a cleaning so it doesn't get too bad--but it still doesn't replace flossing."

Don't worry, Maria, my next cleaning is on my To Do list.

Psych(ic) Evaluation

Last September, Vickie and I stopped by to see a psychic in downtown Brooklyn.  She was recommended to us.  I have to say, she was pretty good--definitely better than some of the $5 psychics in the East Village. She didn't really say too much of significance, some things were on point, other things were not (beware of someone named Lisa.) But I do remember she said I would be traveling, and I would be going to Florida.

"FLORIDA!?!?!" I exclaimed.

Sure, tons of people go there, and I travel a lot, but at the time I'd only been to FL once in my life and had no plans to go again.

Fast forward almost exactly one year later:

Interesting, no?

Hardwired

I took E$ and Maddog to the aquarium at Coney Island. We went to the sea lion show. I look over and the nephew is sitting quietly on the bleacher with his hands in his waistband. Such a guy thing, even in a four year old. Boys really are hard wired to be boys, aren't they?

I am becoming that friend...

You know, the flaky one.  Who forgets your birthday. And never texts you back.

Since I've given up my Moleskine planner and went electronic with the iPhone--I know, I never thought it would happen either, but I just can't carry all that stuff around. I'm trying to simplify my life--I keep forgetting people's birthdays, and things that I've had planned weeks in advance.  It's not a huge deal (I always make it to events, and belated birthday wishes are better than none at all), but I like to be on top of things.  I am also terrible at returning texts now--I read them and forget to go back and respond. Why? Sure, I'm busy as usual, but I think my iPhone offers too many distractions. Like Boggle. Harbor Master. And Pocket Frogs. Sweet, sweet, Pocket Frogs.  The biggest time suck in my life right now. 

I don't have a great solution.  The iPhone is here to stay, as my memory slowly and quietly fades away. I guess I just have to be more mindful? And perhaps set better reminders in my calendar...

The Curious Case of the Diseased Hand

Labor Day Weekend I went upstate to my favorite farm for some produce picking.  Apples, corn, plums...We picked some fresh corn, one of my most favorite things to eat.  It was pretty tight in the corn field and I had to push stalks out of my way to get through.

Well, I noticed later I had some scratches on my hand and arm, but didn't think anything of it.

And a few days later (when I went to Disney World) the rash started. First it was small red dots on my hand--not raised or itchy or painful. Just red marks all over my hand. These marks looked worse but never felt worse. I looked like I had a weird skin disease. Ew. I shuck and eat plenty of corn without harm, but was it possible I'm allergic to corn pollen???

I wanted to get to the bottom of this so I went and saw a dermatologist.

1. After explaining what happened, she said she had never seen anything like that. Comforting. It wasn't a corn allergy, but more of a mild poison ivy-like skin reaction, minus the insane itching. So either the oils on the corn leaves irritated my hand and caused an inflammatory response, or I got micro-lacerations that got irritated.

2. The spots had darkened so my hand looked like that of a 75 year old, minus the wrinkles. Or that I had some henna that went horribly wrong. The derm said these spots would not go away quickly, that the inflammatory response on my hand hyperpigmented. Super. I'm going to walk around with old lady hand for the next several months. I made extra special effort to exfoliate and use fade cream.  It's been almost two months and the marks are very, very faint.  Definitely more like light freckle than weird skin disease. Whew.

3. I got tested for allergies. The results were no big surprise: very allergic to birch pollen (spring allergies, plus the non-citrus tree fruits), ragweed (fall allergies), cats, and dustmites.  The macadamia nut allergy didn't come up at all, curiously. But when I told her about it, she thought it was strange I was only allergic to macadamia and no other type of nut.  I am supposed to avoid them. Unlike the fruit allergy, which is just itchiness but won't kill me, the macadamia nuts could in theory close my throat and kill me. This saddens me, since I LOVE macadamia nuts. LOVE them. (aside: I asked if it was a common allergy and she said macadamia nuts are expensive so fewer people eat them, and thus less data on it. I felt like there might have been some judgment there, like I am some bourgeois nut connoisseur or something.)

R.I.P. Composting Worms

OBITUARY

Composting Worms

2008-2010

Fortune Cookie's composting worms died this summer from natural causes--the multiple heat waves that hit NYC were too much for them. In their brief two year lifespan, the composting worms generated several cups of compost (a/k/a "black gold"), which the plants in the apartment greatly appreciated. The worms enjoyed strawberry tops, carrot shavings, and mesclun.  Like their caretaker, they were not huge fans of frisee. These worms will always be remembered, even after they are replaced by a new batch. 

No services will be held. 

State Pride

It's fairly obvious that I am overflowing with state pride. I love my home state of MN, quite possibly because I haven't lived there in 17 years, but also because it is a great state with the BEST. STATE FAIR. EVER.  I have impressed people with my knowledge of MN facts (state bird: loon, state flower: lady slipper, land of 10K lakes, home to companies such as Target, Hormel, General Mills, 3M--you wouldn't have Post-its if it weren't for MN...)

I also love NY, which is my birth state and residence of the past 17 years.  (But really, who doesn't love New York or at least the city?)

Well, last month I went to Texas.  I have to say, Texas pride is overwhelming down there. Texans love Texas like no others love their state.  It's almost scary, and it makes me feel like a poser for all my state pride.  I haven't been able to figure exactly why they love Texas so much. The Bush family? Oil? Cattle? Football? Texas Toast?

ADDENDUM:
Another thing I have noticed is that people from Utah do not have a lot of state pride. I met three different Utah-ans this summer (after my trip out there), and when I found out they were from the beehive state I exclaimed, "I LOVED Utah! It's such a beautiful place!"  Only to be looked at incredulously.  Now, if someone said to me that they loved MN or NY, I would respond, "Me too!" 

WANTED: cultural curator / personal assistant

I can't keep up.  I just can't.

One of the perks of living in New York City is that there are a million and one things to do at any given time. We are the city that never sleeps. (Which isn't to say, when I really need an idea for something to do, I can't think of anything awesome.)  And in addition to keeping abreast of those activities, there's always new music, art, shows, etc. to follow. Oh yes, and the news. Current events are always good.

So I'm on at least a dozen different mailing lists about all of those sorts of things. I joined Twitter (hold on, before you mock me!) for the newsfeeds--sadly, none of my friends are on there regularly so I have to rely on Gothamist, the Onion, and Conan O'Brian to entertain me with tweets. I read various websites. I talk to people. But I still miss out on cool things that are going on, generally finding out about them the day of.  That doesn't really work for my schedule.

What I really need is a cultural curator. Someone to filter through all of those channels and give me a concise list of things I should know about.  I need a debriefing twice a day or something. It's not that I want to be cutting edge, I just want someone to tell me what is going on so I don't have to spend the time figuring out myself.

Applications currently being accepted. Inquire within.

From the Desk of the Peeved

There are many things that get me riled up.  This is one of them:

At one of the wineries out on the North Fork of Long Island, they named their Pinot Grigio "P-No-Gree-G-O."  They have a Chardonnay similarly named.

Some might find this cute or funny.  I find it infuriating.  It didn't help that the wine was terrible too.

Can we try to be a little classy, Long Island? America?

Chia Liberty: Live Free or Die!

One of my tasks as super-tech in Dr. Christina's lab was to set up the Chia Statue of Liberty. It hadn't even started sprouting when I left St. Louis, but I received photo-updates every couple of days:

Then I stopped getting updates. A week later I got the bad news: Dr. Christina didn't going into lab for a few days and thus poor Chia Liberty did not get watered.  Most of her luscious green locks died off except for a little bit of mullet left over:

It was a sad day for Liberty.

Hammy the Hamster

Hamster sitting Hammy the Hamster while the family is on vacation for a few weeks.  Hammy kind of freaks me out a little, and I know he doesn't like me that much. (Why this is so, I'm not entirely certain, since the kids grab him in one fist and run around screaming. All I do is feed him treats. But maybe he knows I have an aversion to big-balled animals?)

Regardless, I am grateful that Hammy did not die on my watch.