I have butter ... and I’m not afraid to use it.

If I ever write a cookbook, that's what I will title it.

I thought of that line as I slapped a tablespoon of the fine, fatty dairy product in a pan last night. Sometimes a recipe says you must use margarine and I know it has different properties and whatnot, but when given the option, I will always choose butter.

Semi-related thought: My cookbook would probably have a whole chapter – maybe even a section – dedicated to why I think cheese should be its own food group. I’d find a way to include that great quote from Charles de Gaulle, “How can anyone govern a nation that has 246 different kinds of cheese?”

A noticeable panty line

Quote of the week from the BDO: “Cool. I really liked that panty line.”

There was this ad series. The style was very irreverent and over-stated. One of the concepts for which I was to write copy was the “We’re that good” concept. The visual was a black and white image of young girls, circa 1959/60, overcome by emotion at the sight of some teen pop sensation. The copy I wrote ended with the line, “But please, don’t throw your panties at our reception desk. It gets a little awkward.”

When it seemed as if this particular ad was not going to be part the series, I inquired as to its status. When I was told that, yes, indeed it will be included, but just hasn’t yet, I replied, “Cool. I really liked that panty line.”


(And props please, for refraining from posting about tomatoes again today.)

Tomania

This has been the lunch special at the BDO cafe for the last two weeks.

Little cheese, little salt and pepper, little olive oil and red wine vinegar, some basil. This particular plate was prepared for the purposes of pre-dinner snacking (for two) while we waited for the rest of dinner to be ready.

Jersey Fresh Freakshow

We grew a tomato with a NOSE!!



I know I need to stop with all the tomato stuff. But it's sort of my thing. I can't help myself.

Jersey Fresh, Part III

A-canning we will go. A-canning we will go. Hi-ho the dairy-o a canning we will go.



Why is it called "canning" when you actually put things in jars?

I don't have a real canner, just a big pot with a cookie rack in the bottom. I can only fit four pint jars at a time in it, so I don't do Amish-sized quantities of preserving.

But it's late August and the plants are heavy with delicious ripe fruit. I eat a few each week, give a few away to dear neighbors and friends, and then I still have about 7 lbs of tomatoes left (from only four plants). I canned about 6 lbs last night. The rest are in the fridge (skinned and ready for the jar or some other cooking purpose).

This is what they looked like fresh off the vine. Aren't they SOOOO pretty?!?!

And while we're on the subject, this is my new favorite T-shirt:

Clever Spam Trends

I feel compelled to give spammers some props. They are so darn clever in their attempts to get us to open their messages and click. Reviewing just a few of them reveals some decent logic.

The Love Note Trend
Perhaps the Queen Mother of all spam trends, this one unleashed the legendary “I love you” virus on the Internet. All predicated on the fact that very few of us could resist someone telling us we are loved - even if we didn’t recognize the name and/or email address. How sad and needy we all are. How smart the spammers are to know this and prey upon it.

The E-greeting Trend
This is a recent trend and much like the Love Note messages, this one also preys upon our needy nature. Who isn’t thrilled to see that someone has sent us an e-postcard or other greeting, especially with tantalizing attribution like, “A worshipper has sent you an e-card” or “A loved one has sent…” The recipient feels special and instant anticipation of a pleasant surprise could lead to a click.

The Important Attachment Trend
Another current spam trend. A particularly smart component of this piece is that there is no body copy to give away its bogus nature. All you have to go on is the subject line, return address and the attached file name. In the past week or so I received one that had either a subject line or file attachment named “check.” Fascinatingly, I was in the midst of trying to track down late payment from a client and for ¾ of a second I actually thought, “Oh look. They emailed me an image of the check to prove that it's on the way!”

The “Thanks for Registering” Trend
This one is new. Just started a few days ago for me. The email appears to be a confirmation that you are now a registered member of some site. Again the psychological ploy is sort of brilliant – who doesn’t want to be included in exclusive membership. You think, “Oh how exciting. I don’t remember registering here, and maybe it’s an accident and now I’m IN!”


Wonder who comes up with these ideas. Probably someone not entirely unlike those in my field – marketing/PR/communications types. Don’t we do the same thing? Figure out how to manipulate readers into a desired response using only words and images? Hmmmm. Wonder how that work pays?

Rounding 39, headin' toward 40.

Yes. 'Tis the anniversary of dear William's birth.

His notable birthday quote:

"Coldest birthday. Ever."

(High was only 60-something today.)

I have a friend who refers to Will as my "favorite subject." As in, "And How's your favorite subject doing these days?" I used to think it was a polite way around having to remember his name, but this is the same guy who refers to his wife as "Lady Catherine" so probably not. He's, you know, one of those exceptionally smart, literary types (a writer friend of course).

I don't know if Will is my favorite subject. Honestly, I think I am my favorite subject. But Will's a good topic too. Heck, I just devoted an entire Blog entry to him (and yet, not really). Oh whatever!

Happy Birthday to Will. Happy Birthday to Will. Happy Birthday dear William. Happy Birthday to Will.

Grey Days

100% chance of rain tomorrow. It was 90% today and it rained most of the day. Raining now in fact. But worse than the rain was the cloudy grey sky, which seemed to sink down all around me like a damp, heavy coat, weighing me down, making it impossible to move.

The good news is that after tomorrow the ten-day forecast shows a few "isolated" and "scattered" bits of rain, but not the definitive, un-adorned "rain" that is promised tomorrow. It's just so finite and certain-looking. As if there is no escape.

I hold nothing against the rain or grey skies themselves; the gentle drops can be a comforting sound against my house and cloudy skies have a soft, somber beauty to them. The problem is what it all does to me. My brain feels mired in molasses. I can't get thoughts moving with any sort of momentum. The writing is slow and... frankly... not very good. I labor to push out a few meager words, and then, looking at them on the page, I grimace with disgust. Yuk. My work is yuk when the weather is like this.

With a whole day of it behind me I face another. Maybe I need one of those little fake-sun lamps? More caffeine? More water? Vitamin B? A cleaner desk? A new note pad? Yes. I will try all these things. The grey day will not win!

Aside: Happy Will's Eve!

New Mops (OR what has my life come to?)

My sister and I were recently talking about this tendency we both have toward excessive and illogical frugality. It’s great to get things on sale or to buy a store brand when it’s just as good as the name brand and costs a few cents less. But sometimes I buy something that’s cheaper, just because it’s cheaper. The example du jour is mops.

My whole adult life I have purchased store-brand sponge mops. And I hate them. The sponge itself crumbles into a useless mat of semi-absorbent goo after just one use and it quickly becomes permanently stained with the dirt and grime recovered on its first glorious trip around a floor. And then, like an idiot, I continue to use it – with miserable results – until I get fed up and stupidly buy another (because it’s cheap).

Thankfully, I’ve had a revelation: I’m a grown up and if I want to buy a better mop, I can. And as if God Himself supported this line of thinking when I was in the grocery store yesterday, the $15 mop was ON SALE for $10!!

So now I’m pretty excited to go on a cleaning rampage in my house this weekend. How sad is that? If I were the teenage me reading this, I’d probably off myself immediately rather than face a future in which new mops got me excited.

Where am I?

I officially relinquished my chaperon duties a full week ago today. And yet again last night I awoke with a start, sitting bolt-upright muttering in a panicked voice, "Where are the girls?!! Where are the girls?!!"

I know this actually happens, because I wake myself up in the process. My eyes are open, but I can't make out the room around me. In the dark, with the myopia that makes my world at night look like a blue-black impressionist painting, I squint and scan the room looking for the row of bunks that should stretch down the long room to my left. But the room is not long and the bunks are not there.

The street light coming in the windows is not the same as it was in the bunkhouse and I look around struggling to figure out what is going on and where I am. It's happened nearly every night. And it's kind of upsetting.

The really odd thing is that I certainly didn't feel very chaperon-y during the trip. I felt more like a passenger on the ship than anyone involved with steering it. Guess the sense of responsibility somehow crept into my subconscious. Wonder when it will leave.

Tell Everyone

This was my second trip to the Gulf Coast area in seven months. Very little has changed. In January I was in Slidell, LA just north of NOLA, and this time I was in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, about an hour east of the city.

I was with four other chaperons and 16 17-year-old girls. We worked with a local Habitat for Humanity chapter. We were outside working all day. I've never sweat so much in my entire life and the current heat/humidity in NJ feels "not too bad" to me now, by comparison. I am thankful I don't work outside in this heat all day and have a new-found appreciation for those who do.

Observation: The gulf coast is being rebuilt on the backs of volunteers - largely students and women from what I have seen.

Observation: The devastation is horrific. TWO YEARS LATER - it is STILL horrific. Imagine your town wiped out. All the strip malls leveled, piles of debris still standing in the parking lots where your favorite stores used to be; streets abandoned except for one or two homeowners who have returned to try and rebuild on their own. Picture beautiful homes, wrecked and skeletal, with FEMA trailers in the front yard, where a family of 4 or 5 live as they try to rebuild. You have to drive miles to find a bank, which has only re-opened in a trailer. Many grocery stores have not returned, so getting food is a real trick in some places. Some roads have still not reopened (there's no urgency for some, since no one lives on those streets any more). Many traffic lights are still missing. It's just unreal. It looks like a movie set - an apocalyptic movie.

Observation: These are not lazy people who are looking for handouts; they are hard-working people who had insurance policies that are not being honored, and people who are loosing their life savings trying to fight for what should be theirs.

Observation: The wealthier people fair better.

MESSAGE: This is what they all asked us - homeowners, shop owners, the Habitat people, the people at the church where we stayed - they all asked us to tell people outside the area that it is not over; Katrina is NOT over. And the need is still great.

The Habitat people told us the volunteers are dropping off. People think everything is fixed. It's not. It's so very far from it.