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I'm Barb. I write about change. Those niggling alterations that creep into our lives until we laugh at ourselves. And if you don't think change is funny, pull out your high school year book and give it a look-see. Check out "About" in the header if you want to know more.
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Tag Archives: Comfort food
In addition to graduations and strange U.S. national holidays: National Bubba Day (June 2nd), National Moonshine Day (June 5th), and National Paul Bunyon Day (June 28th), the month of June hosts Father’s Day(always the third Sunday in June). So, I … Continue reading
Here’s another interesting tidbit for you. A camel, despite its fatty hump, has a straight spine. The same hold true for a fat donkey. It carries fat in rolls along either side of it’s spine. But when it comes to … Continue reading
MOSQUITOES ARE ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE RECENTLY EATEN BANANAS That’s what a recent email told me. So if I’ll stay away from their banana-ey goodness, can I expect to be welt-free all summer? I suspect this propaganda was started … Continue reading
Go buy some spectacular rain clothes. Polka dot boots. Wide-brimmed Clint Eastwood hats. A brelly (umbrella) dotted with wild-looking women. I have none of the above. That must be why I’m so snarky during this past week of downpour. Dip … Continue reading
I really wanted to wrap up the thorny discussion we were having last week, but I’ve got to tell you about my close encounter with the Weiner mobile. You’ve all seen it. That 20+ footlong hotdog that rolls through marathons, … Continue reading
I’ve had several people send me carrot recipes. You can see why…. I’m not sure why I planted so many. I guess I was having a Scarlett O-Hara moment, feeling that “Ah’d nevah be hungry again.” I canned carrots. Froze … Continue reading
Yes, even though I haven’t posted for most of the summer, I’m still laboring while others are sleeping. Tonight the kitchen is abuzz with activity. A three-layered metal contraption called a steamer is percolating on the stove top. The Swedish … Continue reading
It’s the garden’s fault. First it was the raspberries. Millions of them, dangling like red jewels in the bushes. Then a heat wave rolled into the valley, and like a Smucker employee, I was picking, jellying, and making cordial for … Continue reading
I just came in from the garden. I graveled potatoes. That’s what my grandmother always called it when we prodded the dirt around the plants, looking for baby potatoes, but left the plants intact so they could make big spuds, … Continue reading