Food
A couple of food items:
Does this ever happen to you? I'm chopping dried apricots for my raisin bran (which always makes me think of the Cambodian Highlands circa 1971--about which I've recently been informed by Homeland Security I'm not allowed to speak). Slightly after the fact, I realize that the chopping board wasn't completely cleaned from the previous night's chopped garlic, and now my raisin bran, and apricots, and the last of my milk smell like garlic. A truck backfires on 7th Street and I lunge under the kitchen table. The dog stares at me oddly.
If it weren't for what had happened half an hour earlier, I'd say the morning was off to a rough start.
Which is to say, I was sitting in my car waiting for my space to become legal, right in front of my front door, drinking pre-creamed coffee out of my thermos, reading a surprisingly good review of Beowulf in the Times when, by accident, I put my hand in my coat pocket and pulled out a white paper bag containing the half of the chocolate cookie I chose not to eat while walking home from Moim last night.
The wind is blowing the leaves around the sidewalk, it's not really that cold and I'm sitting with the door open and reflecting, while munching on my cookie, that life, at times, can be mighty good.
Mighty good, I would add, even in the face of "Big Ben..." hitting the market with a deafening silence. Bernanke, I'm thinking, is not going to sell this time around.
Does this ever happen to you? I'm chopping dried apricots for my raisin bran (which always makes me think of the Cambodian Highlands circa 1971--about which I've recently been informed by Homeland Security I'm not allowed to speak). Slightly after the fact, I realize that the chopping board wasn't completely cleaned from the previous night's chopped garlic, and now my raisin bran, and apricots, and the last of my milk smell like garlic. A truck backfires on 7th Street and I lunge under the kitchen table. The dog stares at me oddly.
If it weren't for what had happened half an hour earlier, I'd say the morning was off to a rough start.
Which is to say, I was sitting in my car waiting for my space to become legal, right in front of my front door, drinking pre-creamed coffee out of my thermos, reading a surprisingly good review of Beowulf in the Times when, by accident, I put my hand in my coat pocket and pulled out a white paper bag containing the half of the chocolate cookie I chose not to eat while walking home from Moim last night.
The wind is blowing the leaves around the sidewalk, it's not really that cold and I'm sitting with the door open and reflecting, while munching on my cookie, that life, at times, can be mighty good.
Mighty good, I would add, even in the face of "Big Ben..." hitting the market with a deafening silence. Bernanke, I'm thinking, is not going to sell this time around.
posted by Geoffrey at 8:19 AM
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