Peanuts–when I was a kid in Georgia, my mom used to boil peanuts, and she sealed them in plastic bags. And when I got home from school, I’d get a pot of water boiling on the stove top, toss in a bag of boiled peanuts, and when they were all hot and steamy I’d take the bag out and empty the peanuts into a dish, and my brother and sister and I enjoyed the salty snacks. Seriously, if you’ve never had boiled peanuts, you just don’t know what you’re missing. Unless you’re allergic, in which case you’re missing swelling and possible death. So if you’re allergic, ignore this paragraph.
Mmmm-mmmmm good! Um, I mean, pppppp-pppppppppppppp good. If you want to learn how to make them your own self, you can follow the directions at this link for Mother Earth News.
Pets. Isn’t it interesting how many letters lead me back to my babies? Lessee-growing up we had Mr. and Mrs. Katt, Lester Garfinkle Madkatt, a gorgeous Irish setter named Malcolm O’Malley (if I recall correctly–he grew a lot faster than we did, and we kinda got scared of him so my parents found another home for him), an Afghan hound named Celeste, a cat named Puss-in-Boots, aka Bootsie. I have a photo of the incomparable Izzybella with Bootsie, but she’d do desperate and terrible things to me were I to publish it, so I shan’t. My dad and monster adopt older dogs. I admire them so much for doing so, because I couldn’t do it. Their old yellow lab Sydney crossed the rainbow bridge on Saturday, and she’ll be missed. She was so sweet and lovable, and if I were shoeless at their house, Sydney would stop by and lick my feet.
Pianos. I has one. It’s in a corner of our flat’s living room, and on top there are a couple of books on cd and a book and a lamp and a cd and two candles and a stone Buddha and my zen frog. More stuff than I’d like. Our difficulty is that we’re going through all of the boxes and things that were packed up from our house, and we just have nowhere to put anything. But eventually my piano will just have a lamp and my zen frog on it.
Picasso. One of my favourite artists. I used to have a framed Picasso print, but I have absolutely no idea where it ended up, if it even ended up making it out of the house. It’s not what one typically thinks of when one thinks of Picasso, but its quiet sweetness makes me happy.
And I think we’ll let Miss Piggy finish things up today.
Miss Piggy, who shows through her inimitable example that one can be a woman of size and still have a fabulous sense of fashion and daring that will win the hearts of frogs everywhere!