Sculpin

Just when you think the troglodytes must have finally died off:

“The women who write [cozies] stop the action to go shopping, create a recipe, or take care of cats,” he says. “Cozies are not serious literature. They don’t deserve to win. Men take [writing] more seriously as art. Men labor over a book to make it literature. There are wonderful exceptions, of course—P.D. James, Ruth Rendell.”

The “he” of “he says” is Otto Penzler (”Who?”), described as the dean of mystery-writing in America (”Oh.”), quoted here in a slightly incoherent article about perceived sexist bias in the Edgars.

Hurree of Kitabkhana gleefully rewrites a scene from The Long Goodbye to fit Penzler’s idea of women’s writing.

“The first time I laid eyes on Terry Lennox he was drunk in a Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith outside the terrace of The Dancers, so drunk that he had gotten all the ingredients to Miss Stella’s Mystery Cake mixed up. The secret ingredient is tomato, lots of it. I knew that. But then I knew that the tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable. Terry Lennox didn’t.

There’s more. It’s pretty good fun.

I’m pale. I mean, I’m really pale. I do tan a very little bit in the summer, but nobody else can tell. (Case in point: me in August.) I check out face powders in shades with names like “Glaringly White” and I think, “Sure, that might be the right color for me if I baked in the sun for six months”.

Fortunately for me, my complexion is usually pretty even. And I am a big ol’ hippy, so the natural look works for me most of the time. A little sunscreen and I’m good to go. But sometimes I have call to wonder: where do really pale people find powder that isn’t three shades darker than what they need?

We’re moderately unusual around here when it comes to religion. Josh has been identifying lately as an Ignostic while I am coming to think that I am best described as a Crummy Buddhist. (I pay lip service to meditation, I love to eat ham and sausage, and I keep hoping that people who annoy me will get eaten by bears.)

We’ve got a three-foot-high bronze statue of a standing Buddha in the garden now, and I have a bronze Buddha head in my room. “That’s disturbing,” said Josh. “It’s like you’re growing them to harvest their heads.” He suggested that I place the Buddha head at the feet of the other Buddha. “In a sort of ha-ha! I have vanquished!…” He paused. “But I guess that sort of defeats the whole thing.”

Well, I guess it’d be a pretty good illustration of “If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.” Tempting.

Jtron points out that it’s National Enzuigiri Day. Hooray! I plan to celebrate by raising a toast to my far-off wrestling-fan buddies as I watch the Ring of Honor DVDs that came in the mail recently. (And also by learning to spell “enzuigiri”.)

Turns out you can buy Diggit garden tools by mail. If you don’t mind getting close to the ground, this is the best dandelion weeder ever, especially for tough, deep-rooted dandelions. And it’s a neat multi-purpose tool; it’s the perfect pointy stick, really. I love tools that are that simple and well-thought-out.

I used and abused my Diggit weeder until it twisted. I can’t remember how, but I remember that I was doing something stupid with it. Trying to find a replacement was a pain. (As things like that almost always are for people who don’t drive.) I settled for a long-handled weeder, at twice the price and half the usefulness, but I kept the beat-up tool around figuring that I could someday walk into a hardware or garden store and announce, “I want one of these.” It wasn’t until yesterday that I noticed the tiny url on the blade. Turns out it’s made by a local company.

This time I’m going for the extra-high-strength version.

Ever since my brow-shaping person, Linnea, left my usual salon for parts unknown, I’ve been hoping to find somebody as good. The person I’ve been seeing is very sweet, but not really an eyebrow genius, and I’ve had trouble communicating to her what I want.

I vaguely remember that there’s somebody at Duque who’s said to be very good, but it’s pure hell for me to get there on the bus. Downtown would probably be my best bet. Any recommendations?

Have you ever considered making your own graham crackers? I hadn’t, but they sound delicious.

As Nic writes, “Some foods are so often produced commercially, I think we forget that someone made them in a kitchen to begin with.” Of course, what those foods are depends on the “we”. I’ve known folks who were amazed that I made my own tomato sauce for pasta.

What I meant: “scheduling conflict”

What I said: “time collision”

I’m sitting here drinking my first glass of Tindindi chardonnay, and I’m pleased indeed. Tindindi is from the up-and-coming generation of boxed wines that aren’t awful. It’s fresh and tasty — nothing extraordinary, but certainly worth its price. Just a good ordinary everyday wine.

Since I’m the only person in the house who drinks wine, and my consumption is generally limited to at most a single small glass with dinner, wine around here would always wind up oxidizing badly. But this stuff is billed as keeping fresh for several weeks, unrefrigerated. Perfect.

Some of you may be excited to learn that there is a Seattle Cheese Festival coming up in a few weeks. Samples galore! Educational seminars! The intriguing “cheese maze”!

I don’t see Samish Bay Cheese among the list of participants. They might not be big or fancy enough to make it to the cheese festival, but I like their cheese a lot. They make a nettle gouda that’s interesting and delicious. And their mont blanchard, oh, yum. Nothing too pretentious, just good tasty cheese. Used to be I could only find their stuff at the farmers markets, but these days you can get their cheese at PCC, Whole Foods, and through Pioneer Organics — maybe some other places as well.