While preparing my Passover Sedar I caught myself singing "Matzoh, Matzoh Man! I'd like to be a Matzoh Man!" to the tune of the old Macho Man song...and so of course that's what I was singing when I devoured these nachos.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Although I had an MRI weeks ago, I have yet to find out the results (because the results were lost, or at least they never reached any of the clinics that needed a copy) and in the meantime I guess they want to keep me happy with little amusements.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
And this is when it dawned on me! In order to assure the survival of the species, Nature devised this amazing thing called Hot Flashes. Imagine generations of arboreal and mud-dawber clans dying out because they did not have any old women around to impart knowledge and demand accountability of the young. They did not have any old women around because as we know, most tribal cultures drive their elderly into the swamps or the snow once they are no longer of use to the clan and thus become a gaggle of useless mouths to feed.
And thus it became that our feminine DNA decided to morph itself into a midlife Heat Radiation Source, so that all the tribal peoples could gather round and get warm and stay dry in bad weather. Not only did this keep the People from freezing to death in the long winters, it insured that they were a captive audience for the storytelling, scolding and law enforcement of the Wise Old Crones of the Clan.
The fact that we have evolved away from being jungle creatures in igloos and yurts squatting over a toasty Matron in order to cook our strips of yak meat has not yet sunk into our DNA. And that is why we have millions of women wandering around emitting nuclear heat with no one to whom it might benefit.
I don't know about you, but if I can find a noble reason for the sudden 100° rise in body temperature resulting in the swamp sweats and brain fog of a hot flash, I can better put up with them. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Nobody told me I could get all blood splattered from donating blood! It's just another one of those things I'm not so keen on doing, now that I know more about it.Like when I found out that I didn't reallly want to belong to an arboreal people after all. I thought it meant living in one of these lovely conservatories:
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I've always loved my South American Hardwood table ever since I bought it back in the Pleistocene Era. I've served many a dinner party, potluck, buffet and brunch on it's surface. I've used it for Christmas parties, Easter parties, and for Passover Seders. Entire quilts have been pinned on it, holiday cards have been mass-constructed on it, and more recently it has acted as a paperwork organizer as I wend my way through this medical miasma I am currently experiencing.
Last night I said goodbye to this old friend! I sold it to a lovely couple, just starting out, who were looking for good pieces to start their lives with. I told them I was so glad they were not dirtbags! They liked that.
My cousin recently told me that she hated the old adage 'there is no use crying over spilled milk' because it seems to her that is EXACTLY the thing to be crying over. Whats' the use of crying over a glass that is sitting perfectly full on a safe table? Spilled milk must be cried over in buckets. All the regrets and and 'woulda-shoulda-coulda's' must be sobbed out in gallons and gallons of spilled milk.
And then you wipe up the mayhem and face forward again.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
And all I wanted was to show these incredible roses that I gleaned from an obliging bush out behind my apartment. That's all! Happy Easter and Happy Spring, y'all!