Peter speaks
[NOTE: I have cleaned up the typos. Sue me.]
I’m off to the depths of Illinois on Wednesday, for five days, and R and I are already worrying ourselves silly over each other’s inability to look after themselves*.
(Where was I?) In Robin’s case this takes the form of things like worrying about my tiresome tendency to leave the fridge door open. I don’t see that I’m likely to have much chance to leave fridge doors open in an hotel and conference centre in Bloomington.** My worries are on the solider ground of her apparent inability to give a moment’s thought to where her next meal is coming from, or when she’s going to eat it. She eats what’s there, when she feels like it, so for five days at least she’ll be free from guilty feelings about having promised me she’ll be here for supper by eight and then glancing up from whatever she’s doing — squashing lily beetles by hand, *** writing her blog — though she mostly does that here so a stranger seeing us at supper might think we were Trappists† from the amount of marital chitchat over our meals – and seeing it’s now half-past nine. She compensates for her unwillingness to plan her meals by buying batches of absolute essentials, such as butter, whenever she sees them, without reference to what she may already have in the freezer. If she runs out of freezer space she buys another house so she can put the overflow into its freezer.†† When I first visited her in Maine she had enough steak in her freezer to feed a passing regiment.††† Admittedly she more than makes up for her refusal to eat all other forms of dairy by dolloping butter onto every thing she eats.‡ My grandmother (a tiny, slight trouble-stirrer who relied on her charm to get herself out of the chaos she’d stirred, but decided in her eighties that people might stop being nice to her if she went on like that and transformed herself almost overnight into a sweet old dear) used to be the same about sugar. I once saw her shake the sifter over all four courses of a meal (a silver sifter, of course, and a maid-servant to bring her the various courses, and a cook to prepare them) soup, peas‡‡, dessert, and cream cheese. She lived to be a hundred and four.
But I genuinely am worried about leaving her to deal with the hell-hounds, who are not only a serious physical strain but also an emotional one, with their digestive problems, for five whole days with no back-up. We’re both wishing I’d never said yes to the invitation, but I don’t think I can back out now. She needs your support, friends. Rally round. ‡‡‡
* * *
*Let’s have no nonsense about this. The number-indeterminate “they” is correct in British English, sanctioned by centuries of usage among the best authors. The OED cites an egregious example from Lord Chesterfield. The contrary belief, rife among US sub-editors, arises from waves of immigration into the States by people who came from countries where there were strict grammatical rules, and demanded that English should be taught accordingly. A propos (at least vaguely) are the attempts to agglutinate the language, rife this time among military spokesmen, on the lines of German. I wrote a poem about this umpteen years ago:
“CORRESPONDING DE-ESCALATION”
Come, let us meditate upon
The language of the Pentagon.
It lacks both elegance and ease.
Its name, of course, is Pentaguese.
Each general, or pentagogue,
Lives in so strange a verbal fog
Only the trained pentologist
Can hope to penetrate the mist
And tell how near is the abysm,
The dreadful, final pentaclysm.
The optimists, pentiloquent,
Measure in pent and kilopent
How great a power for good such might is.
Maybe they’re suffering from pentitis.
The timid fear for hearth and home.
To them the world’s a pentadrome
Where our sole safety seems to be
Emergency pentectomy.
And who is right? We have seen plenty
Of foolish, costly pentimenti,
But human instinct still insists
That on the whole pentagonists
Mean well. So what is crazier
Than smothering in pentaphasia
Their honest purpose and intent?
Perhaps in time they will repent.
(If you have views about Vietnam
Send LBJ a pentagram.)
* * *
** Nonsense. You’ll have one of those tiny useless under-the-dressing-table refrigerators which will be full of warm wine and chilly peanuts. If you feel lonesome, you can leave it open and pretend I’m shouting at you.
*** I was just doing this today, up at Third House, where I have all my lilies sequestered and segregated, to make this revolting job easier. It’s still revolting. I will never buy another lily, but I can’t bring myself to murder the ones I’ve got. They’re so pretty. We didn’t have lily beetle at the old house for some reason, so this has all been a hideous new town-life shock.
† I’ve just spent some time wandering around the Catholic Answers Forum^ and apparently nobody takes what us hoi polloi think (nervously) of as a vow of silence, including the Trappists. But the Carthusians and the Benedictines are also seriously down on chat.
^ You google ‘vow of silence monks’ and all you get are cartoons.
†† VERY GOSHFLIPPINGDARN FUNNY
††† I have no memory of this. I’m sure he’s exaggerating.^
^ And he obviously wasn’t there right after one of my trips to New York to buy bagels at H&H on upper Broadway.
‡ One must compensate for intolerable deprivation
‡‡ But not the steak with the peas. I asked.
‡‡‡ I’ll be all right. I’ll be looking forward to the NICE PRESENT he brings back for me. Surely there must be suitable shopping opportunities in Bloomington. Jewellery is good. Small, light, easily transportable and always appropriate.
It interests me, just by the way, that he neglects to tell you what he’s going there for. He won the Phoenix Prize (again, I might add) for EVA.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phoenix_Award
And . . . sigh . . . if it weren’t for the hellhounds’ digestion, I’d've gone with him, to check he keeps the fridge door closed. I have friends near Bloomington. We could have hung out while Peter does con things. However I’ve already obtained permission to post his speech here when he gets home.
comments
Please join the discussion at Robin McKinley's Web Forum.
!!!
I think I just died of how cute you two are.
Peter, don’t worry. We can periodically send emails to Robin reminding her to eat and go to bed before 2AM. ;) (Says the girl who is horrible about both, too, and will probably just be a bad influence on Robin.)
The tiny fridge might really work in IL! I don’t know about there, but here — about 10 hours east — it’s been so HOT. There’s a ferret melted to the floor currently, and I am *not wearing socks*. (And I do loff socks so much, but taking them off is the only way to cool down quickly.) So the tiny fridge in the hotel room could double as an AC if it’s too hot there. ;)
Seriously, though. Have a great time in IL.
I think I just died of how cute you two are.
********** I was thinking, as I read through for final typos and footnote-symbol-alignment, that you can SEE why we’re married. :)
will probably just be a bad influence on Robin.)
********* Company is good! :)
. . . I too take socks off when it’s THAT hot, and it’s like, wait! Wait! You’re not taking your SOCKS off! You are not a SOCKS TAKING OFF PERSON!!! -I’ve even learnt to wear **sandals.** Well, sort of . . .
(I *guess* I hope he has a good time in IL . . . :))
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And I’m so rude. I should have said congratulations to Peter. Yay Peter! *confetti*
Yes, socks only come off when I’m in danger of melting, just like the ferrets. I can’t stand not having them on. My feet get *cold*! And sandals? All that air on my feet all the time? *shudder*
All that air on my feet all the time? *shudder*
********** YES! EXACTLY!
. . . . [sweeping up confetti] . . .
Oh come on you two, going sock/tightless is one of the best things about summer. :) Padding around in bare feet is wonderful! Even with the occasional toe-stub or ‘ick, what was that I just stepped on’ moment… And feet wash and dry quicker than socks do, too. Why not let your inner essential barefootness have a moment in the sun. :)
Actually I agree. But it’s always a big threatening shock to the system when those socks first come off. I’m barefoot now, in fact. My socks seems to have migrated to the hellhound bed for some reason. . . .
Oh come on you two, going sock/tightless is one of the best things about summer.
*shudder*
I, too, am barefoot now, but only because I’d die of heat stroke if I wasn’t. (Okay, it might not be that bad here. I do have AC. But still! There’s air all over my feet!)
Actually, it *is* a lot easier to run across the room and stop the ferrets from misbehaving when I’m not wearing socks. The socks make me slide everywhere.
Air all over your feet is strangely thrilling. :) Hey! There’s like NERVE ENDINGS down there! You can FEEL THE FLOOR!
I agree. Well, I love going barefoot when I can, but transitioning from socks can be ….. I don’t know. It can be something.
STILL hot- 95 degrees most of the day, it got down to 80-something, though, by 9pm. Which was nice.
Going outside is like walking into an oven.
And I have no AC. Just put a fan in my room last night because I couldn’t bear it any longer. But it isn’t helping very much, other than simply moving the hot air around a bit.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
jmeadows- I thought you said you were in Texas?
Or something?
Maybe you said you used to live in Texas. Or maybe I am making this all up. But I had some vague idea that you lived out West.
Of course, most everything is west from where I am, here in New England.
More congratulations to Peter. Have a safe journey!!!
Try not to melt in the heat! (well, I don’t know if it is so hot in IL. But a woman I work with at the library just got back from a week’s vacation in Kansas, and she said that it was decidedly warm there– as well as plagued by tornadoes- she had to go down to the basement and everything! Scary. Amazing. But still scary.
Um.
And I too will answer Peter’s call to rally round Robin (wow, the alliteration!)- now that I have permission to call her by her first name [you by your first name- not quite sure who I am addressing this to, now.] I suppose I count as friend. Or at least loyal reader who cares [in a non-creepy way, of course].
Of course I care. Why else would I owe her several thousand million billion pounds of chocolate , and an equal number of hugs, by now, to make up for all the virtual stuff that I profess here?!
And so…. Hugs
Virtual confetti to celebrate for/with/in honor of Peter.
And so on.
Smiles too.
:)
–Julia
If you live in Kansas you’re REQUIRED to have tornadoes. And probably dogs named Toto.
“You can FEEL THE FLOOR!”
Yes, exciting isn’t it. All that….texture! :) Times when I’ve been walking a lot on beach sand that’s exposed at low tide, with all the little hard wiggles and rows that are formed by retreating water, I can still ‘feel’ all those little ridges hours later, when my feet are sitting happily remembering their day…:)
And, jmeadows, perhaps a pair of ‘gripper socks’, to wear over the colourful ones while in the ferret room, might come in handy? I was grumbling to my Pilates coach the other week, about how my feet kept sliding on the floor when doing exercises while lying on my back, knees raised, and she suggested a pair of these. Revelation! Not only do my feet no longer slide, but I can also walk up walls…. :-D
Texture! That’s the word!!
I can also walk up walls….
********** Oooooh.
I can also walk up walls…. :-D
*awe*
” If you live in Kansas you’re REQUIRED to have tornadoes. And probably dogs named Toto.”
Yep. I kinda have to agree.
…….
But when you live in CT, it ought not be 102 degrees after 6pm when it isn’t even July yet.
Today was so ridiculously hot. Again. Still.
I got off work, and when I opened the car door, my glasses immediately fogged up. Crazy crazy heat.
Sympathy for all who live in more southerly climes and endure this sort of weather as a matter of course. Much sympathy.
:)
–Julia
jmeadows- I thought you said you were in Texas?
Or something?
I used to be in Texas! I moved to Virginia about five years ago. Actually. *checks date* Five years ago in a couple weeks.
People in Texas have been telling me about the 100 degree weather. I can’t tell you how much I DON’T miss that. :|
Eva is brilliant! I’m not at all surprised that you have won accolades for such innovative and thought provoking yet sensitive work. Yaay Peter!!
So sorry that you don’t get to go visiting with Peter/friends, but we’ll be here to hear about dog poo and sore riding muscles, and to bemoan the simply weird english weather we’re having :)
Fingers crossed for faecal sample results, and you can have walks without eternal (poo) vigilance added to all the other eternal vigilances – large idiot man vigilance, big labrador out of control vigilance, mad cows in footpath field vigilance…
I have in theory collected my last sample . . . but my vet hasn’t sent me the directions to the lab that I’m supposed to be driving to tomorrow morning . . . sigh . . . and I had a run-in with a dog, its owner, and its owner’s boyfriend so unpleasant this morning that I still feel sort of half-sick with it. Aren’t other people *wonderful*? Never mind the dogs.
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********** Aren’t other people *wonderful*? Never mind the dogs.
I make up categories, so feel free to join in! It makesa me feel SO much better as I stagger away from some encounter having finqally found a suitably telling riposte waay too late.
For example there’s the man who is hen pecked and stressed at work, whose dog represents their inner freedom. Totally untrained and out of control, he likes it that way, and woe betide anyone who wants him to subdue it in any way.
Then there’s the person who ” just LOVES every single dog” and wants to stroke poochy kins, even though poochykins is going cross eyed with horror and you can see disaster looming…
I remember the woman whose husband did shift work, and came home in the middle of the night. The pack of 3 jack russells which slept on her bed would rush screaming down stairs and attack him. He had taken to sleeping on the sofa downstairs and was red-eyed with lack of sleep – problem? His wife just said “well he shouldn’t wake my dogs up coming in at that time…” Freud eat your heart out Lol
Right. So how about the boyfriend of the dog’s owner who, the dog owner and I having exchanged pleasantries, says loudly–he’s been silent so far–Stupid bitch, as I walk past him. I turn and say, Stupid man!, whereupon he loses it completely and starts screaming language at me even I don’t use very *often.* I sort of half-felt like saying, gee, I’m really *sorry* you have so much trouble with your d*ck that you have to abuse strangers, but in the first place I was really upset and in the second place, how does he escalate from there? Punch me? –Going home now.
I hope you feel better now? Things like that make you feel physically sick don’t they? Sending you hugs and HUGE bar of apricot Green & Blacks. Did you use Rescue remedy? (I’m sure you had a homeopathic remedy :)) I keep rescue remedy on me and it really helps at times like these.
I expect he hates women/hates his partner/ was in the middle of mind-bendingly bad row with partner (choose one or all) and either meant the remark for partner, but said it for you to hear as added “audience” value or you got it for being nice to partner (again pick one or all). Don’t ask me why, some people are “road rage” on legs. Best to ignore/defuse and treat as a rabid dog. Your comment to a dog query on this a couple of days ago says it clearly :)
Usually I jump in where (in some instances hundreds of) other witnesses have attempted to ignore spousal/partner abuse (street, camp site, so not behind closed doors) but recently I was in a lift with an extremely cowed woman and child and their very belligerent male. Nothing beyond incredible rudeness, but something about the body language made him stick in my mind and also made me reluctant to do or say anything to draw fire.
How right I was :(
A couple of days later I was talking to the counter staff by the lift entrance, and apparently a few minutes after we left the lift, he spoke to the staff and when they couldn’t help him, he jumped the counter, swept everything from shelves and all available surfaces (this includes extremely heavy stuff, computers etc) and was extremely scary and threatening. The staff by the way were 3 very petite young girls. What a hero…
this kind of thing is so difficult. I had already (I felt) not come off well in the confrontation with the dog’s owner, and then this toerag had to have a go. If you stand up for yourself you may be in worse trouble, and if you don’t you crawl home feeling like a worm. The world is full of no good answers. Sigh.
Did they call the cops? What do you do? He must have caused actual needs-to-be-paid for damage, as well as criminal intimidation.
WordPress has just stopped me in my tracks with a big screenfilling notice to SLOW DOWN, you are posting replies too quickly.
Hahahahahahahahaha gasp hahahahahahaha
excuse me – I’m on dino comp while real comp is in hospital so I can’t do anything too quickly – can’t breathe from laughing gasp gasp
Yes, I’ve had that too. I need to ask Blogmom–because the fine print says that the overflow is simply DISCARDED and that WILL NOT DO.
Yup. The gist of the discarded comment – can’t believe it (Victor Meldrew voice) – was that the cops were called, man removed, staff not told the result. I hope they threw the book at him, but in these days of overcrowded prisons they probably said pay your fine and go home :(
. . . and beat your family. Yes. Ugh.
Apricot (as well as Butterscotch) Green and Blacks is not available in the US. I’m going to write them a letter!
You definitely want butterscotch too. Definitely.
Robin, are you restricted to organic chocolate? I grew up in Ft. Wayne, IN, the location of the best chocolate truffles ever. I don’t know their international shipping costs, but you may at least be interested in drooling over a keyboard. http://www.debrand.com/shop/
Ah, but we can’t get the espresso one over here. Which is really annoying because I LOVE coffee flavour chocolate…
Oh dear, I do absolutely feel for you both over your rather stressful situation but Peter’s post + your truculent footnotes are just so funny! I suppose we could do some sort of remote monitoring, by web cam, for you both? (No…*ducks*… I thought not..!)
Anyway, many congratulations to Peter on the award. Five days is not long – probably not long enough for you entirely to denude your system of life-giving nutrients. And of course you will both be on your best behaviour so as not to worry the beloved overmuch, won’t you…:)
No, we’ll both just LIE in our emails. :)
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What kinds of encouraging things can we say or do that will help you?
Use your imagination. :)
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I am much amused that he’s worrying about your inability to remember to eat at the same time as he’s commenting on your stock-up-for-an-apocalypse shopping habits. At least you’ll have lots of food once you do get hungry. And all three freezers aren’t very far apart, are they?
Melissa
(sad because I went to look for Papa Meilland at the nursery and they didn’t have any and now maybe I should order it online, but then I has to order 3 roses and should I buy a batch of 10 in that case because then they would be half price… but where would I put them?)
LOL! gosh don’t I know this kind of quandary!
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Ugh. I started off writing in 3rd person and then switched it because it sounded silly and then I forgot to check conjugations and left the “has” instead of “have”. I apologise.
PIffle. You’re just can hazing (hazzing?) a cheezburger. :)
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I can’t believe you just refered to LOLcats. Wow.
Maybe you ought to make a LOLhellhound…
There’s already a funny dog pic site. Maybe we could have a funny dog pic gallery here. Wanna contribute? (Who ARE you??)
There was a picture on ICHC about 2 or 3 days ago of what I think were hellhound puppies in a basket. (I’m not a very good Puppy Identifier, but they were skinny and cute and looked like they could run very fast when not piled up in a basket, sleeping.)
WHOOPS that anonymous one up there was me. Unfortunately, the only idea I have is that adorable picture of the hellhounds cocking their heads at us and looking thoroughly cute. The caption would read, “Oh hai!”
She compensates for her unwillingness to plan her meals by buying batches of absolute essentials, such as butter, whenever she sees them, without reference to what she may already have in the freezer. If she runs out of freezer space she buys another house so she can put the overflow into its freezer.†† When I first visited her in Maine she had enough steak in her freezer to feed a passing regiment.
You say that as if it was a bad thang. ;D (Glances at burgeoning closet of Sam’s Club goods)
Congratulations on the award for Eva! It’s richly deserved.
Okay, what is Sam’s Club? No, no, I’m sure I don’t want to know. . . .
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It’s a club for buying things in Very Large Quantities, like multipacks of soap and two boxes of cereal in a bigger box and giant bags of pet food.
Arr. No, you don’t. For people like me it is the anathema of shopping, you have to buy a membership in the “Club” and then they only sell products in massive, frightening bulk. I don’t care if the toilet paper is 20¢ a roll cheaper, I don’t want a year’s supply of toilet paper in my house all at once! Grahhhh.
Yes. Not the best for those of us who are storage space challenged.
Eva is a wonderful book. Congratulations to Peter!
Yaay Peter. :)
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Congratulations!
Yay! Congratulations and have fun in Bloomington. I lived nearby for a year and flew into/out of the airport a couple of times, but didn’t actually go into town, so I regret that I am unable to provide jewelry-shopping recommendations. :)
unable to provide jewelry-shopping recommendations
******* Well feh. :)
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No Bloomingdales in Bloomington, then?
Gosh, the Phoenix has been won by some distinguished people/books, hasn’t it? Many congratulations Peter.
Well Done to Peter on his award :) Have fun while you are away and leave the fridge door open often. ;) What’s a few more tonnes of greenhouse gas . ;)
And don’t worry about Robin. We’ll make sure she has plenty of chocolate based recipes to experiment with and we will be utterly sympathetic about the hellhounds “attention seeking projectiles”. And if that fails we will all send in pics of roses to *completely* distract her. ;)
Congratulations Peter.
But the Carthusians and the Benedictines are also seriously down on chat.
Carthusians, yes–but it depends on your Benedictine. I’ve got a friend who’s an OSB and he’s as chatty as the day is long. Though maybe when he’s just at home with the other monks it’s more contemplative… The Cistercians are still a bit on the austere side, but even they don’t do the vow of silence thing. I think Carmelite nuns did, though, once upon a time.
I think Carmelite nuns did, though, once upon a time.
******** Yes, I thought so too. And there was that fascinating book of interviews with nuns that came out, oh, a decade or more ago, and one of them was with a woman who had been in a convent that was not only ‘closed’ but also, I could swear, practised silence. So this has to have been recently.
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I have to confess that I’d never read any of Peter’s work until last week, when I bought and read the Ropemaker. Loved it! I shall now make a beeline for Eva. So much congrats to Peter!
We stand ready to assist.
ROBIN!
EAT YOUR GREENS IN A TIMELY FASHION!
RING SOME BELLS!
STOP BUYING BUTTER! YOU HAVE PLENTY!
LEAVE THE FRIDGE OPEN IN PETER’S HONOR! HE WOULD DO THE SAME FOR YOU!
And whatever else you can think of.
PS–Pentaclysm? :) That poem totally made my evening.
Robin, try making this, it’s a snap, it’ll use up some of the butter, it will keep until Peter returns, and it will jog your memory about eating.
Chocolate Pate, which began life as Bittersweet Chocolate Terrine in Judith Olney’s The Joy of Chocolate, 1982, Barrons. I have made minor adjustments for those on gluten free diets, and those who prefer less processed foods. I first had it at the Garden Cafe in Lewes on a miserably cold and rainy afternoon where it was called more simply “Chocolate Slice”.
This makes women swoon and strong men muscle others away from the dessert table. Serves about a dozen, can be easily doubled. I suggest you serve it with strong coffee, and do not be alarmed if those eating it fall into a trance like state.
2/3 c. de-skinned pistachios (almonds or toasted hazelnuts, chopped, work too)
1/2 c. sultanas
1/2 c. dried cherries
1 pkg. crisp gluten free cookies smashed into 1/2″ bits (more or less)
6 oz. bittersweet chocolate
2/3 c. gran. sugar
4 Tbsp. water
1 c. cocoa (I use Dutch processed, but whatever)
1 1/2 c. very soft butter
1 Tbsp orange liqueur
1 egg plus two yolks
1. Mix 1/2 of the nuts, the dried fruit and cooky crumbs.
2. Melt the chocolate
3. Make a clear syrup by dissolving the sugar in heated water
4. Stir cocoa and butter to a smooth paste, then add sugar syrup, melted
chocolate, liqueur, and eggs. Mix well.
5. Fold in the fruit/cooky mix and firmly press into a buttered loaf pan.
6. Refrigerate overnight or longer. Unmold, decorate with rest of nuts, a dusting of cocoa, and slice thinly.
A friend had this not stiffen up properly (was it the duck eggs? the orange extract rather than liqueur?) and it wouldn’t slice nicely, so we served it spread on cookies.
I sometimes think that this might resemble one of Sunshine’s recipes … enjoy!
Gosh. I sure like the butter quantity. :)
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I should have said congratulations to Peter. Yay Peter! *confetti*
Eva is a wonderful book. Congratulations to Peter!
Anyway, many congratulations to Peter on the award
*Wow. I think it’s time we congradulated Robin for *once* Gradulations on putting up with people, Taking care of those hellhounds, and being awesome!
YOU ROCK ROBIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ps: Sam’s Club is a store that you can go to buy everything you could every want, need, and even stufF you don’t.
U go HaZz an aweSomE DAy!11!
LOL! Thank you!
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I’ve recently decided that LOLcats are a sign of great intelligence and creativity. (Or so I hope, reflected glory and all that).
A couple of weeks ago, Tammy Pierce (Tamora) was talking about how I Can Has Cheezburger is part of her morning ritual without which she can’t be expected to start the day. Now you and your faithful readers express similar fondnesses.
Clearly a mark of greatness!
LOL!
Congratulations to Peter!
YEAH!!!!
Rebecca WinkleBeam
p.s. When I’m gone visiting family in the US I always spend two weeks cooking twice as much and organizing it into labeled freezer containers. That way, while I’m gone, my partner can have at least one real meal a day. She’s a great dish washer but a horrid cook.
Oh my. I just wrote that and realized what an organized German I’ve become compared to how I was when I arrived. (shudder. I wonder if I’ll get worse in the future and I’ll clean the house like my spotless no-dirt-around-sister-in-law? No. Not with the kids around, too much hair :)
Eva is a terrific book, congratulations to Peter. I have stayed in Bloomington a few times, but years ago, and only in (cheap) motels that allowed large dogs. I sincerely hope you have much better accommodations and actual real food.
I did the half-past nine thing tonight–pulling weeds rather than squashing bugs–although I’d got my husband fed by eight so was unencumbered by guilt. If it’s still light, it’s not really time to go in . . .
And as for dog-walking jerks–GGGRRRRR.
Obviously I am the only one who has the sick research gene here, because I immediately googled “vow of silence monks” and the first thing I got was not cartoons but the wikipedia entry on trappists followed by the one on carthusians. This I think means that Peter is more often looking for cartoons online and google, knowing his habits gave him what it thought he wanted once more. I wish I were shocked. I simply wish google gave ME cartoons!
Congratulations Peter!
There are lots of other shopping things that can be added to lists, and why not bagels? They may be bulky, but they are light! Any bagel recommendations from Bloomington?
Sorry about the encounter, and I think you gave both the correct answer and did the right thing by leaving. Escalation is for fools, but sitting and taking abuse with no answer is for victims. We know you are neither.
I have to take a salad for an evening class today, so I am currently soaking dried apricots and chickpeas (garbanzos) in grapefruit juice and have roasted sesame seeds and linseed. (I have to have all the bits prepared and take them to work and will construct the salad at the last moment*)
*HINT Robin HINT to avoid last minute salad-less-ness – Yeah, I know that if you had the time to do it ahead of time, you would have the time to do it at the time, and you have neither. I feel for you.
We have separate computers! But *I* don’t look at cartoons either!!! Obviously there’s something seriously wrong with my sick research gene!!! Or my brand-new computer(s) had a secret previous life!!!!
. . . I need to think about things like last minute salads, because I’m presently contemplating how likely it is I’ll actually take myself out to dinner as opposed to sneaking in an extra bell-ring or three. . . .
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Consider me rallied! =-)
I think maybe it’s good that you don’t have Sam’s Club in England. Or Costco. Places where you can buy a five-pound block of butter are dangerous. Or an entire pak of chocolate bars (36? 40?). I personally am NOT SAFE near bulk buying stores.
You two are adorable and do make readers melt. Especially, “If you feel lonesome, you can leave it open and pretend I’m shouting at you”
The Trappists have an elaborate system of sign language, at least according to Thomas Merton, which can handily get around the mostly-silent part.Don’t know about the Carthusians. I’m curious- what did you think of Catholic Answers?
And why do you two have three houses? Doesn’t that make remembering what’s in which room difficult?
Oh, yes. GO TO BED BEFORE TWO, ROBIN!
Oh, bulk buying, yes, I remember, I’d left it behind when I left Massachusetts, and it was arriving in Maine when I left.
Well, as I think I said last night, reading that entry for more typos, I was thinking ‘you can sure tell why we’re married’. :)
Yes, I read about the Trappists’ sign language too.
Kind of scary. But I was reading about coeliac disease (again, because of hellhounds, it’s one of my regular research stops) and on wiki there’s a section on religious implications, including that the Catholics insist that the Host MUST have wheat in it, so coeliacs can’t be ordained and I guess if you’re an ordinary communicant and you refuse the Host because it’s going to make you SICK you just go to hell. I’m sorry, but this makes me very, very angry. Maybe–I want to believe–this is one of those unreliable bits of wiki.
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There has been some discussion of this reported in diocesan newspapers, which aren’t usually very good so the quality of the reporting may by dubious. Lots of coeliacs have been ordained, but didn’t discover they were coeliacs until much later in life, which seems to be a commonplace with this disease. The food used at Mass must be “bread and wine,” but people have made arguments that the bread used in NT times would probably have been made from barley, so what would be wrong with that? Coeliac disease has only recently started getting a lot of publicity (and diagnoses), so my guess is that accommodations will be worked out.
Hope so. (Mild coeliacs can eat barley, I think.)
That last comment was from me (Diane in MN), sorry. For some reason the Blog didn’t recognize me even after i had logged in, and it rejected my name too . . .
Ahh, butter (available at reasonable prices at Sam’s Club* in 4 pound packs). The first time I wrote to my representatives was during the foofuraw just before Clinton’s impeachment hearing. I wrote pointing out that what someone did in his personal life didn’t affect me personally** whereas the price for butter had gone up to more than $4 per pound and would they please get back to work investigating IMPORTANT things like that. I got form letter replies stating that “since they might be called upon to serve on the impeachment committee that they couldn’t comment on the situation.” Feh…
*Sam’s Club is a bulk buying club — you pay about $30 in annual membership to gain entry to a huge warehouse filled with foodstuffs, clothes, furniture at wholesale prices.
**I also wrote that I DO believe in old-fashioned family values…the sort of family values that doesn’t plaster this sort of thing on the front page of newspapers,*** just as they didn’t print pictures of Roosevelt in his wheelchair, or break stories about Kennedy and Marilyn…
***My favorite bumper sticker, soon to be out of date, reads “Would someone PLEASE give Dubya a blowjob so we can impeach him?”
Will you hate me if I confess to laughing aloud at Peter’s comment about you buying another house when you run out of freezer space (and your footnoted response…;-))?
And congratulations to Peter on the award!
I can remember picking up a copy of Eva to read the blurb and ending up reading half the book standing in the bookshop. I had to go back and buy it next time I was there to find out what happened. (I was about 13 and out of cash on the first occasion) And now I may have to find it in the chaos that is my bookshelves and do a reread…
Oh, and who needs meals when there’s Green and Black’s lurking in the cupboard? (Or anywhere within a five mile radius…)
Will you hate me if I confess to laughing aloud at Peter’s comment about you buying another house when you run out of freezer space
********* Nope. So did I. :)
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THANK YOU. :)