Produce shopping

Sometimes the oddest places trigger an impulse that wouldn't ever happen in a different setting. Mine happened last time in the grocery store.

I was in the produce section looking at grapefruit. Not in a particular rush and just browsing for some winter variety. Somehow I found them to be very unsatisfactory grapefruit. Why? I mean I couldn't see inside them. I don't shop at one of those grocery stores that obligingly splits a sample of the fruit and then cello wraps it for your viewing pleasure. The peels has some of that rosy blush that indicates they have at least a chance of being ripe. It's not a bad time of year to be buying grapefruit. Why was I not satisfied?

Here's what I figured out - they all seemed to light to contain anything but styrofoam. And in one of those roundabout conversations that sometimes happen in my head, I imagined trying to describe my technique for buying grapefruit.

"It has to have HEFT, son," I explain to the phantom child that is learning the wisdom of life and grapefruit purchasing. "It should feel heavy for its size, like the juice is just packed in there bursting with its own special kind of tart ambrosia. "

"Really?"

"Yes, son. You should toss it in your hand a couple of times to listen for the solid smack as it lands in your palm...It should tempt you to hurl it at the shopper three aisles over to see how well it splatters on contact."

!?!?!

Time to go back to the bananas. The dropped banana peel is a much less confrontational way to cripple your fellow man.

And I think I need to stop reading Douglas Adams for a bit.

A nosy parker

Some of you might be shocked to find out that I'm a little nosy. Not usually with friends, mind you, (after all you tell me of your own volition, right?) but complete strangers are a different story. I won't just walk up and engage them in conversations with endless questions (at least not conversation with me) but in malls, in restaurants, on planes, or at the bank, beware that I may be listening in. No, I won't be crouched behind the potted plants. I just go with the principal that if your voice is loud enough to carry, I'm not being rude if I listen. Particularly if you're blocking the aisle at WalMart discussing the rash that just won't clear up and how it might be the result of your goldfish bowl.


ClipArt by www.surfdoggy.com

Sometimes I write it off as professional curiosity. After all, I can't write about my friends or they won't be my friends much longer. If I write about my family, they might actually read it! So most often I justify it as character research. Even old photos of other people's families conjure up villains and victims, bullies and belles, and the self-righteous widows that make great counterfoils to your favorite characters in writing.

Don't people make you curious? Today I was driving down the street and saw a fancy new pickup loaded with a drop-leaf table, two wooden chairs, a antique trunk, a dirtbike and a Pepsi machine. Doesn't that raise a question or two?

What about the business men that you suspect might be closet cowboys because their shoes are just a tad too pointy for current trends?

And you can't tell me you've never seen someone standing at a bank machine and wondered, "What thought process made her decide THAT was the outfit to wear today?"

It makes me a pretty lousy date, actually. SG and I went out for dinner one night and I missed two-thirds of his conversation because the guy behind me was explaining at the TOP of his lungs why he didn't think it was right to see fewer than three women at a time. I have never been so tempted in my life to follow someone to the restroom and as we checked our teeth for spinach, smile and say "Honey, RUN!"

So it's perhaps time to offer just a word of advice. Next time you're out in public, check behind the potted plants, keep an eye on that little mirror on the ATM and don't forget to be suspicious of the quiet woman at the table behind you. She's probably listening.

More fun than actually exercising...

A writer friend I know from online sent some questions awhile back about strategies for the holidays, exercise habits and making resolutions. Since I resolved not turn down any chance to shamelessly promote myself, I answered them all. And yesterday she let me know that I was one of the featured people on her blog. So head on over and say "hey" to Kimberley and let her know what a great job I did :). There are some others that did better but until I figure out how to photoshop myself skydiving (let's face it - it will never happen in real life), I'll just have to work with what I have.

(Whew - Does it make you tired watching that little clip art guy do sit-ups? My abs hurt just watching him...)

Anti - oxidant update

Remember my blueberries?

Several weeks ago, they seemed to hit a lull - still flowering but the berries that were forming were just sitting there. Nothing much happening.

But then, one started to change color. And it's been changing color with reckless abandon. And with blueberries selling for $7 a pint around here, I got pretty excited.



Of course, with only one berry ripening, I may not mention it to the family when I neglect to share...


How many anti-oxidants do you suppose are in one blueberry?

When boredom strikes...

A new resolution

I'm teaching again for the next month and while it's part time, it's still an 8-hour day. Every day. Maybe a couple days off for good behaviour in the middle but they'll be spent catching up on a lot of things I've had to put off until I'm done. Had something happen today I wanted to share but now I can't remember what it was.

While I've been away from my computer, I've come up with a new resolution for the next month. It's to stay under 60 messages in my inbox.


I originally thought 40 but that got blown out of the water pretty quickly...

Canadian to American...and back

Today we are having a party to celebrate the fact that we have our green cards. Remember the "resident alien" thing? And I'm really hoping that my husband can join us since right now he's on an airplane somewhere over Oregon approaching Medford with every possibility that when they get here they will just turn around and go back to Portland. Remember the allusion to fog?

As part of the party, I'm planning to post some multiple choice/spot the difference Canadian words and phrases with their American counterparts around the room just as sort of ice breakers. I've had far too many people look at me with that "you're-not-from-around-these-parts-are-ya" look when a word slips out that they don't know. And in all honesty we've been "from-around-these-parts" long enough that even I'm not sure of the difference any more.

My kids have been trying to retain some of their Canadian heritage by throwing an "eh?" onto the end of their sentences. And I haven't been able to avoid noticing how thoroughly bad they are at it. It just lacks conviction. Perhaps summer in Oregon isn't the only proof that we're in a melting pot.

One source I would highly recommend as a Canadian primer is How To Be A Canadian by Ian and Will Ferguson. Hysterically funny as only the truth can be. (BTW, if you follow that link, note that my copy has a picture of a classy place setting with doughnut in the middle of the plate. I like mine better.) A few crudities but in my opinion it only serves to highlight the mishmash that is Canada.

In the meantime, if you're desperate for a way to communicate with those on either side of the 49th, here a translation site I found. It should probably be mandatory for anyone entering the diplomatic core...