It Was The Ants

Man plans, God laughs. October is National Dessert Month and I am committed to a minimum gain of five pounds. Minimum. I'm going to need dessert rehab. Anyway, Costa Rican humidity be damned – I was going to make chocolate cream pie for Rusty . . . with a mile-high meringue topping. If my Kitchen Aid can turn cream into butter in less than five minutes (it’s like Butter Jesus in that regard), it can surely whip into stiff peaks a few egg whites. 

And then it started to rain. That was yesterday. It’s still raining.

We All Go Haywire At Times And If We Don't, Maybe We Ought To

Yesterday was National Coffee Day. It came right after National Strawberry Cream Pie Day. I hope that National Crème Brûlée Day is right around the corner.

I hate acronyms, but I accept them. You can’t work for the U.S. Peace Corps and not accept (if not embrace) the acronym. I know thousands, truly. But the portmanteau is an entirely different matter. And if you can’t define portmanteau without Google, you’re probably today’s target audience. Now I will accept brunch, and possibly even smog. But there I draw the line. Labradoodle. Really?! It is too difficult to explain that your dog’s sire and dam are a Labrador retriever and a poodle? And don’t get me started on text/blog/Facebook abbreviations. PGOC, really? How utterly unromantic. Whatever happened to beautifully written prose? Were Hemingway alive today, he’d kill himself.