||[Feb. 21st, 2016|09:00 pm]
There was so little on sale at the stores this week that I didn't even have to do any triage to stay within the constraints of my budget. The triage will come when I prepare meals. One store did have artichokes cheap, so I got four of them. They will make nice late afternoon snacks to take the edge off my appetite so that a couple of nights I can substitute a can of soup and some bread and butter, or a few of the tortillas I have to use up, for dinner. |
The sky is still mostly cloudy, though that didn't keep the temperature from going up just a bit today. The night will stay chilly, and I believe it is getting foggy in the valley now, but we won't get any fog up here. More's the pity. A nice fog always cheers me up quite a bit. But the mostly cloudy sky is giving the moon a rumply canvas to paint, and that's nice too, though as cold as it is I won't spend much time watching it.
It ought to be getting warmer tomorrow, and there should be more sunshine, but I don't know if it will be quite warm enough to open the windows for long. Even if it doesn't get very warm maybe I'll open one window, as Portia likes to sit on the sill and sniff the outdoor air. I'd kind of like to do that myself, but I'm too big to fit on a window sill. On the other hand, I don't have to lick my butt, or do my laundry with my tongue, so maybe I'll just stay human. At least until those artichokes are gone. I doubt I'd enjoy artichokes as a cat.
by William Matthews
I like divorce. I love to compose
letters of resignation; now and then
I send one in and leave in a lemon-
hued Huff or a Snit with four on the floor.
Do you like the scent of a hollyhock?
To each his own. I love a burning bridge.
I like to watch the small boat go over
the falls—it swirls in a circle
like a dog coiling for sleep, and its frail bow
pokes blindly out over the falls' lip
a little and a little more and then
too much, and then the boat's nose dives and butt
flips up so that the boat points doomily
down and the screams of the soon-to-be-dead
last longer by echo than the screamers do.
Let's go to the videotape, the news-
caster intones, and the control room does,
and the boat explodes again and again.
Great snakes, that poem! =8-O
I bet a kitty could get some mileage out of batting dried up old artichokes around on the floor. I have never bought one nor cooked one and am kind of flummoxed by them withal. I might enjoy batting them around more too. ;D
I'm not sure a cat would enjoy batting an artichoke for very long. They are the one vegetable that can scratch back. They are thistles, after all, and each tough leaf is tipped with an even tougher thorn.
Still, though they are the most tedious of foods to eat, I have come to enjoy them. I didn't like them when I was akid as my mom didn't prepare them properly. She would cut off only the very tip, and then my fingers would get sore being poked by all the thorns she had preserved.
The Itnernets told me how to cut off the entire top half, and then it is safe to grasp the truncated leaves, dip the fat ends in soft butter, and scrape the tasty part off with your lower teeth. Once you've disposed of the leaves you use a spoon to scrape out the choke, which is like a mass of fine hairs, and eat the heart, which is the reward for all your patience. It's all very Zen, in an Italian sort of way.
Or you can just buy a jar of marinated artichoke hearts. Easier, but less fulfilling.
William Matthews does seem to be a bit, shall we say, high strung, no? Reading him is a bit like eating an artichoke, come to think of it. I wonder if that was what put him into my head? (It's also a bit like watching "Jackass". Maybe that was it.)
I salute you for being willing to work that hard to eat something Zen!
Haha, Jackass! The exploding boat and stuff, yes, I see it. :D