True Grit
You have to admire the moxie of a bug that starts in to eat a head of cabbage. I mean, this is a dense vegetable. The insect to which I refer, which I found on the “organic” cabbage I bought this week, was no bigger than a Ladybug. It had only made it as far as the first layer of leaves. But still, you have to give it credit for its fortitude. Broccoli would have been so much easier. A life lesson there for sure.
Modern Family?
You’ve likely seen those little white-line cartoon figures that some people adhere to their rear car windows —usually on mini vans, but not always. One surmises that the figures represent the family that owns the vehicle. Have you noticed that the illustrations are usually arranged left to right, from tallest family member to smallest? Most often there is a dad pictured at far left, a mom next, oldest kid to youngest in order beside her, and the lineup concludes with the family pets, the dog, the cat, the gold fish or whatever. If one really studies the semiotics of these artworks, should one also conclude that there is a hierarchy implied in the ordering? That dad is the head of the family? Are all the participants agreeable with this inference? Aren’t there some moms out there who at least deserve equal billing? Is it mandatory that the figures be arranged in linear fashion? Maybe they could be applied to the window in circular fashion – that way everyone is equal (and certainly you do see some families in the mall dealing with a tots’ temper tantrums where the children seem to be in charge.) What about families with gay partners? Are the illustrations that are available for two dads or two moms identical or are there various models on the market so that each parent can find a drawing that best represents their unique qualities? Sometimes I wonder if we had these cartoon characters on our Subaru if we would put Riley at far left – you know, just to indicate who really runs things around here. In any case, I saw a car with these drawings recently that made me wince. The family in question had clearly been disrupted — I concluded it was by divorce, because the dad had been scratched out. You could still see the faint outline of where he had been. If the poor man had died, surely the grieving widow would have removed all the drawings as it would be too painful to see the intact family every time she got into the car. No, I thought, this is a divorce. There was a certain, detectable anger with which the male figure had been erased. Expunged. Deleted. Sad for the kids, I thought.
X-Rated Recipes
Some dear friends, a great couple who enjoy food and wine as much as we do, came over for dinner a couple of weeks ago. The wife in the couple and I are both doing Weight Watchers. The meal I planned had been reasonably compliant with the points allowed in the Weight Watchers system – simple, nutritious, yet tasty and ultimately satisfying. “Points friendly” as they say. But after dessert, she and I gravitated to the kitchen where we poured over some of my cookbooks — especially the most deliciously illustrated ones that have luscious photographs that look good enough to eat. We concluded that gazing droolingly at the mouthwatering, yummy pictures of decadent plates of gloriously sauced main dishes and powdered sugar-dusted desserts is pretty much porn for dieters.
Mmm, Cajun!
It seems that squirrels like spicy foods. I would not have thought they’d go for the peppers I have growing in a ceramic pot, but I have been finding the seeds and little pepper bits all over the patio. Makes you wonder if there are squirrels with tummy aches out there. Ken and I haven’t even gone near these peppers ourselves. I bought a cute little “Mexican Salsa” mixed planter at the beginning of the season that included cilantro, oregano, basil and these chili peppers. I threw the tag out, so now I have no idea what kind of pepper they are – but they look hot! They’re smaller in diameter than a golf ball, intensely red when ripe, and quite round. I’ve looked at a few internet pepper sites to try to identify them, but the closest I can find is habaneros – and we all know those are hot, hot, hot. I’m not about to try them. I am totally spice-averse. I would pull them out of the pot, but the squirrels seem to be having a fiesta with them and why spoil their fun.
Actually I’m not surprised by the squirrels’ taste for spice. A few years ago, I planted some tulip bulbs in our Buffalo garden. The squirrels dug them up and ate them, leaving empty holes in the soil and tell-tale bulb bits scattered here and there. I looked into remedies. First I tried putting down chicken wire to cover the next batch of bulbs I planted. The squirrels scooted under the fencing and dined on my bulbs. Next, the garden store sent me home a bottle of “deterrent” guaranteed to repel the little beasts, yet not cause any real harm. The red liquid smelled of concentrated cayenne pepper with a dash of ancho chili. I couldn’t get close to it without my nostrils burning. I soaked the bulbs in it for a day or two and patted them into the earth. The next day? Gone. Eaten. The little rats enjoy their bulbs with hot sauce! I gave up on tulips after that. And I figure the squirrels’ history with heat was a “heads-up” on those peppers!
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