Happy things: sentences written in actual English

So I've returned from Thanksgiving break to find myself not only a couple lbs thicker, thanks to Sweet Potato Casserole and other Usual Suspects, but also in the thick of the almost-end-of-semester essay grading flurry. And it's not pretty. Neither of those types of thicknesses are pretty. 

cummings's style: perfect for poetry;
lousy for emailing your instructor a question you
want her to actually understand and answer. 

Today as I was learning from student essays that "the information informs us" and that "if we look deeper we can defiantly [definitely?] find the hidden messages of deaf  [death?] in the poem," and responding to various emails that look like e.e. cummings poems minus the line breaks... I thought of my husband's former thesis advisor commenting on a grammatically confounding phrase that he should "try English." After a semester of deciphering all kinds of sentence fragments, run ons and phrases tangled beyond hope like every necklace chain I've ever owned, I would love to try English. 

And soon, when the semester's over, I'll get a chance and I can't wait! I'm going to start with the pile of poetry books shuffled around on my desk for months, along with these books I just got for my birthday: 

How to Fight Like a Zombie

Paul Guest's memoir One More Theory About Happiness

The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2010

All in my sweet future. All written in the actual, beautiful, readable, non-headache-inducing, makes-sense ENGLISH I crave and remember so fondly....

The question is...

Why wouldn't anyone want to eat my poems? 

There is a season, turn turn turn(ip)

Of the hundreds of dishes at my family's Thanksgiving spread, one of my very favorites is my Mama Jo's turnip greens. I appreciate them more after living in AZ and MA, where for some weird reason, bitter greens aren't all that popular like they are in the south. (Wake up, people! Southerners know food! It's not by accident that Paula Deen is the Fairy Godmother of America's Growing Waistlines.)

Anyway, in honor of those tasty greens, and to celebrate the only successful crop to come out of my garden, I present you with the life cycle of the turnip:

1) Pre-plantation: Get all irritated because the only two home and garden stores in your town do not have seeds even though it's fall harvest planting time. Then, order them from a less stupid company.

2) Life is given: The seeds are planted and dazzling in their cuteness. (Holy crap! I made life! BEHOLD MY POWER!!!!! )

Soon, a little metal stake with two big dangling CDs grows alongside the turnips. A one-sided relationship forms in which the CDs get nothing in return but the turnips are protected from the sparrows who are notorious wusses when it comes to sparkly moving things.

3) Turnips continue to take take take. Meanwhile, the preemie carrots develop an inferiority complex and ultimately give up on life. Even though you sang "Carrot Suicide, Don't Do it!" to them.

4) "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

 5) Life is taken, or I brought you into this world and I can take you out!: Turnips are beheaded. And at the prime of their garden domination at that. The devastation.

6) Broken dreams. And turnip parts. All over your cutting board.

7) Turnip purgatory: cast iron skillet, sauteed onions, (fake) bacon, olive oil, salt, pepper, chili flakes, a little sugar, and a little veggie (or chicken) stock.

8) Rebirth! As something delicious! Hallelujah!



You can make and destroy your own turnips too! It's easy! But heed these tips:

*Harvest greens a little earlier than you want. It's really fun to watch them morph into hedges, but by the time they're that large, they'll be more bitter.

*But, if they do happen to be bitter, there's stuff you can do: a) simmer longer--the longer you cook, the less bitter; b) add a little sugar; c) throw in a potato. (Potatoes are renowned in the culinary community for their ability to turn vegetable frowns upside down.)

How to breathe

Those who know me know that I work out pretty regularly. I actually like working out. I'm what you might call A Good Worker-Outter. But lately it seems I've hit a bit of the ole' plateau. Man that's frustrating.

Fortunately, my husband showed me this instructional video about breathing. I cannot wait to try this at the gym!



This workout video brings a whole new meaning to heavy breathing

They're out there! The donuts!

I thought possibly I'd just invented the idea of red velvet donuts. (I mean, have you ever heard of them?) But they're out there. It's true. 


This is the first place where I learned about them. "Blondie and Brownie: Two Girls' Adventures in Food" sounds like my kinda blog (plus they've actually correctly used an often challenging apostrophe). But, since the first sentence starts out, "I'm not a Krispy Kreme fan," I didn't have to read far--actually just to the end of that first phrase--to realize they had no idea what they were talking about. 


Next. 


The Nickel Diner in Los Angeles. Click here, people, and behold some beautiful donuts. I don't eat bacon, but I have a lot of respect for a maple bacon donut. But let's not forget why we're here. The red velvet donut. Here's what Gastronomy Blog says about Nickel Diner's: "The red velvet doughnut took me by surprise with its unique texture and tangy cream cheese icing. Whereas the other doughnuts were  texturally one dimensional, this one was coated in a crunchy crust of red velvet cake crumbs." That all sounds pretty good... but I want a donut, not a whoopie pie, and that's kind of what this looks like to me. 


I turned to Smitten Kitchen, thinking they could help me. Well, they sorta could. While they have a reliable recipe for red velvet cake, there's not really one for donuts. Here's an adaptation, but, seriously, you can't bake something in a mini muffin pan and then call it a donut hole. I mean, mini muffins are delicious! BUT they are NOT donuts. It's like if I tried to tell you Sixlets were M&Ms. Nobody should be selling that. 


So, my half-assed google-based research yields these trusty results: 


1) Apparently I am pickier about donuts than your average bear. 
2) I am hungry. 
3) Southern grandmas make the best red velvet cake there is. If you are fortunate enough to have a southern grandma, or access to one, I highly recommend you put "make me red velvet donuts" at the top of this year's Christmas list. 

Happy things: fuzzy yarn

So I think The Secret of Nimh has to be one of the best animated movies of all time. For one, I've always been able to get behind an animal revolt, even since I was like seven.

Plus, remember Jeremy? The hopeless romantic yarn-collector crow who gets all googly eyed whenever he sees pretty yarn or sparkly things and is perpetually in some state of being accidentally tied up in an array of his own strands...?

Well, on some levels I can identify with him. Here's what I mean:



The thing about this clip is that, in addition to just being awesome, it also gives you an idea of what the scene at my house looks like when I'm working on a knitting project.

Right now that knitting project is top secret, but I want to share the yarn with you. Bright flame-colored mohair. Exactly the kind of thing any crow would love to have wrapped around his beak.

It's fuzzy and feels like working with cotton candy, only it doesn't dissipate or make your fingers sticky, and even if your project turns out looking rather... abstract... well, you don't care because working with this yarn is even better than yoga in terms of zenning you out.

Really. Working with this yarn is like petting the softest baby bunny known to man while actually getting something productive done at the same time! Magical!

I also like the way the skeins look like red velvet donuts. Mmmm... red velvet donuts. Does that actually exist in the world? God I hope so.

Happy things: everybody has a dream

There's nothing quite like a good view. 

Happy things: outside

After recently moving out of a soul-sucking apartment complex, I am so happy to have a yard. Well, we're renting so I don't technically have a yard... I mean, I'm not that adult.

Turns out that yards and things in yards make me happy. There's nothing like looking out your window, and instead of every day seeing your neighbor's cigarette butts scattered all over the parking lot beside their truck nutz (we keep it classy here in Alabama)... you get to see this:

Now those are my kind of danglers.

And instead of having to walk outside to move the neighbor's pizza box off of your little balcony, you get to do this:

Highly recommended: The Cooks Illustrated Guide to Grilling portobello marinade.

Rather than hearing your downstairs neighbor slam the door every time she comes and goes, and rather than hearing her yell at her boyfriend (who may or may not have just gotten out of prison), you get to hear the sweet gentle buzzing of friendly bumblers.

The living things... well, ok, the living things minus the squirrels who steal the birdseed and the roaches the size of your car... are really one of the best things about a yard.

This little guy's called a Clouded Sulphur. What a great name.
Fortunately, he does not smell like sulphur or we would not be friends. 

This visitor was spotted about a month ago. I'm still waiting for the good luck to kick in. In the meantime, just thinking about her so patiently posing for my camera, plus devouring those bastard mosquitoes, is simply delightful.

And these guys make me happiest of all:

Hanging out in the watering can one morning.

Look at me. Now at your pile of papers to grade. Now back to me. Now back at your desk. Now back to me. I am so awesome. I am in a watering can. On a unicorn. With cake. And rainbows.  

Well, hello there.

You will now have a very good day. And I don't even need rainbows.

Help me understand: detached winter collar thingies

Apparently these things are really hot right now:

This is from J.Crew.
(Please don't sue me for using your picture, J. Crew. I like your khakis.) 

What is it?! A wreath? A sling? A reusable hand towel ream?

It's a separate collar that's supposed to keep you warm. A cowl. Or a snood. (I do not like saying the word snood. Also, isn't a snood a character from Harry Potter?)

But more importantly, does it look silly? I think maybe it does but I can't decide. (If I could understand it I might be able to form an opinion.)  As a big time scarf fan, I'm wondering what this thing can do for me that a scarf can't...

Right now there's a lot I'm perplexed by, and I don't need to add "hip accessories" to that list. But here it is. On my list. Perplexing me.

Any ideas?  

Thoughts on the collar thingie:
	It's cute! It's new! DO IT!
	You're already top heavy; wearing this will make you appear on the verge of toppling over.
	Scarves are better. You can play with the edges in awkward situations.
	Men have beards to catch cookie crumbs with; now, with this thingie it's OUR TURN FOR FLAVOR SAVORS!
	Danger: This is bound to get snagged in rapidly spinning machinery or some guy's bicycle handle.
	Ours "is not to reason why." (Sheesh lady, don't you know your Tennyson?)
pollcode.com free polls

American voters and pumpple cake

Pumpple Lover Voter: So, you know, I've been eating this dessert every day for eight years. The whole thing. One whole delicious, mouthwatering, sugar-coma inducing thing a day. For eight years.

You know, it's the pumpple cake. Lemme tell you it's amaaaaaazing! I mean, all the corporations and my country club member friends said it was good for me, so I tried it and it sure tasted good for me so I got hooked! I mean, how could it not be good for me?! It's a pumpkin pie beneath an apple pie baked in a cake!!! It takes me and all my cares away like Calgon never could! 

Organic Apple Lover Voter: That sounds pretty delicious.... but, umm, you know there's like 2,000 calories a slice in that cake, right? I saw it on This Is Why You're Fat.

PLV: Well, I did put on a couple lbs. (By a couple, PLV means "one gillion.")

OALV: Holy crap! That sounds really dangerous and bad for you. That can't be good for anybody! Bad news, dude.

PLV: Yeah, but there's good news--I went on a diet and started working out! It's working!

But I've only lost 20 lbs so far, and my goal was to lose all one gillion lbs. and reverse all bodily damage within two years.

OALV: Well, you're doing the right thing... but, um... you know, it's gonna take, like, some time to take off all gillion lbs. I mean, it's always way easier to do damage than it is to undo it. I know it sucks, but it's true.

Ever notice how quickly and easily your cat, Doug, can destroy your favorite wool sweater? And then how time-consuming and not especially fun it is when you have to sew up all the claw and bite marks...?  It's kinda like that.

(PLV Makes sad, perplexed, swirly-eyeballed face.)

But, hey, you're doing the right thing! Really! I'm proud of you! And I know your wife and kids are excited about your progress! You'll totally get there dude!

Oh, and have you tried turbokick? They play that "Halle Berry" song and you fake-kick stuff. It's a really good workout.

PLV: (dejected, exasperated) You mean I probably won't lose all one gillion lbs in two years?!

Sigh...

Then I guess the only thing that makes sense is to go back to eating an entire pumpple cake every day...