I just got the keyboard fixed on my Mac. It was not more than a month ago that I schlepped over to Crabtree, waited my turn at the Genius Bar, and left my laptop with the nice folks there who replaced fixed it for me, for free.
Now here I am with a faulty delete and enter key, neither of which work at all, because I got the laptop a little too close to the sink while making a dinner recipe from Allrecipes.com.
It is a pain in the neck to attempt to type without a delete or enter key. Thanks much to my husband who three days into it, showed me that there was another enter key one over from the space key, and who, five days into it, told me about control H.
But these are in no way substitutes for the normal placement of the properly functioning keys and I have learned that a very fast typer does not an accurate typer make. What would I have done in the days of mechanical typewriters and correction tape? Gotten my ass fired, that's what.
Here's hoping the Genius people will take mercy on me one more time.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Pickles
I treated myself to a jar of pickles whilst in the middle of my regular grocery shopping last Thursday.
I love pickles, but no one else in my immediate family does. Hold the pickle is a regular and routine directive by my husband when we're out to lunch at the local deli, as is the mysterious appearance of an extra pickle on my plate on those times when they forget and give him one anyway. It's good for me, but an annoyance for him - he who has no tolerance for the crispy, salty, sour flavor of the lowly pickled gherkin.
When you're on a budget, as I am, items that we will all eat often take priority. So most often when I'm at the Super Target making my way down the first aisle, the condiment aisle where all of the peanut butters, jellies, mayonnaises and dressings live, I tend to linger in front of the pickle shelves and wonder if today will be the day that I buy some just for me, after which I always talk myself out of them.
But this past Thursday, with a little extra money in my pocket, I must have been feeling rebellious as I made my way toward the mustards at the other end because when I stopped in front of those pickles, I thought, 'what the heck,' and I decided it was finally time to bring a jar home with me.
As with most things these days, there are a gazillion varieties of pickles - sweet pickles, sour pickles, pickle chips, and sliced pickles. I don't like sweet pickles at all (what's the point???) so that was a no-brainer. Sliced pickles are okay, but not quite what I was looking for either. Finally, my eye settled on the baby dills, by some brands called "snackers." Perfect! Because that's what I wanted - just enough for a little snack here and there. It's like the marketing geniuses at the pickle companies had read my mind.
After some careful consideration, I selected a nice jar of Mt. Olive Kosher Baby Dills because they were cheaper than Vlasic and I couldn't imagine there'd be much of a difference in taste. Into my cart they went!
And once home, after almost all but forgetting about them, I remembered again as I made my way to the bottom of the last grocery bag. And even though pickles should ideally be eaten when nice and cold, I popped open the jar and ate a few right there on the kitchen floor.
Oh, what I had been missing - they were crunchy and sour and perfect! They reminded me of summer days in Baltimore in the hot kitchen at my grandmother's house where the table was set with a bowl of Utz potato chips, hamburgers and buns, orange carrot jello salad, baked beans, and pickles! They were so yummy!
And the best thing is, since I know nobody else likes them, I won't suffer the disappointment of throwing open the refrigerator door the next time the mood strikes me only to find an empty jar. I know that I can safely offer them up as a snack to my marauding daughters and they will not bite, and that my husband's fingerprints will never grace the side of that jar. They are my pickles, and mine alone and I think I will go and have one right now!
I love pickles, but no one else in my immediate family does. Hold the pickle is a regular and routine directive by my husband when we're out to lunch at the local deli, as is the mysterious appearance of an extra pickle on my plate on those times when they forget and give him one anyway. It's good for me, but an annoyance for him - he who has no tolerance for the crispy, salty, sour flavor of the lowly pickled gherkin.
When you're on a budget, as I am, items that we will all eat often take priority. So most often when I'm at the Super Target making my way down the first aisle, the condiment aisle where all of the peanut butters, jellies, mayonnaises and dressings live, I tend to linger in front of the pickle shelves and wonder if today will be the day that I buy some just for me, after which I always talk myself out of them.
But this past Thursday, with a little extra money in my pocket, I must have been feeling rebellious as I made my way toward the mustards at the other end because when I stopped in front of those pickles, I thought, 'what the heck,' and I decided it was finally time to bring a jar home with me.
As with most things these days, there are a gazillion varieties of pickles - sweet pickles, sour pickles, pickle chips, and sliced pickles. I don't like sweet pickles at all (what's the point???) so that was a no-brainer. Sliced pickles are okay, but not quite what I was looking for either. Finally, my eye settled on the baby dills, by some brands called "snackers." Perfect! Because that's what I wanted - just enough for a little snack here and there. It's like the marketing geniuses at the pickle companies had read my mind.
After some careful consideration, I selected a nice jar of Mt. Olive Kosher Baby Dills because they were cheaper than Vlasic and I couldn't imagine there'd be much of a difference in taste. Into my cart they went!
And once home, after almost all but forgetting about them, I remembered again as I made my way to the bottom of the last grocery bag. And even though pickles should ideally be eaten when nice and cold, I popped open the jar and ate a few right there on the kitchen floor.
Oh, what I had been missing - they were crunchy and sour and perfect! They reminded me of summer days in Baltimore in the hot kitchen at my grandmother's house where the table was set with a bowl of Utz potato chips, hamburgers and buns, orange carrot jello salad, baked beans, and pickles! They were so yummy!
And the best thing is, since I know nobody else likes them, I won't suffer the disappointment of throwing open the refrigerator door the next time the mood strikes me only to find an empty jar. I know that I can safely offer them up as a snack to my marauding daughters and they will not bite, and that my husband's fingerprints will never grace the side of that jar. They are my pickles, and mine alone and I think I will go and have one right now!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Winter Daphne and Garden Things
Winter Daphne is, in my opinion, the perfect spring flower because it so epitomizes the spring climate here in North Carolina. It starts to show the slightest hint of flowers sometime in late January, but it takes its own sweet time getting here. Every day, I wander by it, stooping down to examine the still-tight buds. Some days more than others it looks surely like it's ready to bloom, its light pink and white blossoms peeking out from the green foliage, the slightest bit of lemon scent detected, only to close up again at the slightest bit of cool weather. It's a tease. Spring here is like that, too. Gradually warming days, weather forecasts of 50 degrees, 60, maybe even 70! One day is so delightful that it warms our souls after the bitter cold nights of winter. The next is chilly again, and we collectively sigh as we're left wondering when? When will we be able to venture out again? Feel the warm sun against our skin as we shed our coats for something less confining? Spread some mulch? Plant some seeds into the warming ground? We wonder, with the next warm spell, if we have finally turned the corner on winter once and for all.
And then one day, usually in late February, as I walk through the seemingly still-bare garden, something has changed. A breeze lifts, mild against my cheek, and at the same time, the most ethereal lemon scent wafts past me on the breeze. And I know. The daphne has bloomed! Spring is here!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Darth Vader
There's been a ton of chatter recently about the Volkswagon Super Bowl ad featuring the little boy dressed as Darth Vader. It's for good reason - the ad is great.
With it, Volkswagon continues a long history of advertising that really hits the mark, in one way or another, by eliciting an innate human sense within all of us that I think gets lost all too often in today's world.
The current ad features a mini Darth Vader, who runs around the house trying, unsuccessfully, to use the force to affect the objects within his domain - the family dog, his sister's doll, and so on. Finally, when his father comes home, mini Darth tries his powers on the family car and is mighty surprised when it does roar to life in front of him, thanks to his Dad and a remote key fob being worked from the kitchen. It's very cute, and it has the unique ability to remind us all watching what it felt like to be a kid.
There's another Volkswagon commercial from many years ago titled 'Pink Moon' that features a group of early twenty-something kids cruising around on a moonlit summer night in a convertible cabriolet. I love that commercial most - it really evokes such a feeling of being carefree, of freedom, of having no worries in the world. For anyone who's ever ridden around in a convertible on an early spring night when the air is still warm and felt the air and stared at the stars, they surely know what I mean.
Links to both ads are here:
Pink Moon video
Darth Vader ad
With it, Volkswagon continues a long history of advertising that really hits the mark, in one way or another, by eliciting an innate human sense within all of us that I think gets lost all too often in today's world.
The current ad features a mini Darth Vader, who runs around the house trying, unsuccessfully, to use the force to affect the objects within his domain - the family dog, his sister's doll, and so on. Finally, when his father comes home, mini Darth tries his powers on the family car and is mighty surprised when it does roar to life in front of him, thanks to his Dad and a remote key fob being worked from the kitchen. It's very cute, and it has the unique ability to remind us all watching what it felt like to be a kid.
There's another Volkswagon commercial from many years ago titled 'Pink Moon' that features a group of early twenty-something kids cruising around on a moonlit summer night in a convertible cabriolet. I love that commercial most - it really evokes such a feeling of being carefree, of freedom, of having no worries in the world. For anyone who's ever ridden around in a convertible on an early spring night when the air is still warm and felt the air and stared at the stars, they surely know what I mean.
Links to both ads are here:
Pink Moon video
Darth Vader ad
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