Partridge berries (Vaccinium vitis idaea) Related to the Scandinavian lingonberry, partridge berries are also called mountain cranberries, foxberries or cowberries. Some Partridge Berry Recipes (although not for partridge berry and strawberry pie).
Partridges are just nacherly contrary birds what don’t never do what you’d expect. (Hmmm, partridge and partridge berry pie? Partridge with partridge berry jelly? By Jove, I think I’m on to something here! Partridge, partridge, partridge. What kind of word is partridge, anyway?)
Of course you have Winnie the Pooh records Kalley, all gently spoilt little girls have such things, it’s a rule. Hint: do not hide your favorite album from your little sister by putting it behind the drapes in the window during a hot summer. I wish I still had my little record player in it’s case with blue daisies on it. Do you know I don’t even own a tape player anymore? I’ve become ever so modern.
Also, you may not have a trashy magazine like People or Us. It’ll get you riled up. For riling, the proper tool is one of my guaranteed to be satisfactorily brawny (hmph swampy) men who’ve inexplicably lost their shirts. If you need something to read, you may have a trashy romance, which the brawny fellows would be glad to read to you, or you can read it to them while they rub your feet. Be careful with Brad, he tends to stray above the ankles when you get to the naughty sections.
Stay away from Teaberry gum. It’s not very tea- or berry-like at all. Sort of a disturbing Pepto Bismol flavor really. And nuh uh scout, sour red currant gummies are the best candies on the whole planet. Unless you count licorice, which is the candy angels eat. Or maybe cream pralines from that place in New Orleans. Or creme brulee chocolates from Godiva. Or modjeskas…
Here’s an interesting tidbit (or not). I’ve been told by a number of people, (it was a small number, like maybe 2 or 4) that if you have moles in your yard and you want them to go away, what you should do is get some Juicy Fruit gum and put it down their burrows. Don’t chew it first, they’ll do that, but unwrap it first, 'cause moles are terrible at unwrapping stuff. I’ve heard two different theories about why this should work. One theory is that they hate the smell of Juicy Fruit and will go elsewhere. The other theory is that they chew it up and then swallow it and it gums up their insides (Ha!). A third theory I’ve heard is that it doesn’t do anything and is a waste of gum. Scientific type people who supposedly know theses sorts of things say that putting a cotton ball soaked with peppermint oil in their burrows drives them away, so their may be something to the smell theory. I guess the moral to the gum-em-up theory is; don’t swallow, if you’re a mole. If you’re not a mole I guess it’s up to you. Anyway, we tried the Juicy Fruit trick on a mole we had in our yard and it went away, so let that be a lesson to you. Or something.
I’m not real big on hard candy, although lemon drops are pretty good. Horehounds - not so much. My favorite candy, besides truffles, are maple nut goodies. Unfortunately, they have about a gazillion grams of carbs per piece, so I don’t get any now. On the up side, I’m getting positively skinny (er). Missus made me go and buy new pants 'cause my old ones were too big. Actually she bought them. I just went along to model.
Sorry about your flu-ness Kallessa.
Swampy, tell ACBG to get crackin on those pics, goldurnit!
I gotta go into Portland now and make some more money so’s I can nail some more stuff to my shed, when it ain’t rainin’, which around here is Sundays and Wednesdays apparently.
According to Ashes, I should borrow this book from you!
In my teen years, the romance novels were going through the “rape and pillage” stage of their development ('cuz women weren’t supposed to enjoy sex, so they had to be tricked/forced into it and then fall in love with the misunderstood and surprisingly sensitive rapist/pirate/highwayman/wrongfully accused disowned heir to a fortune). Anyway, a friend and I once went through one of them and underlined all the different euphemisms for sex and men and women’s private bits. I think we had an idea about writing a research paper of the topic. Those romance novels were badly written, but very creative in the euphemism department. One of my favorite lines had something to do with the cold marble floor being enflamed by the passion of their desire. Better than rug burn, I suppose.
Since bodice rippers are the one form of “literature” I just cannot stomach, I have no comment on their creativity. I just don’t get em.
But, I think it’s heartily appropriate at this particular time of year to remind everyone about that wonder of seasonal confections CANDY CORN What would Halloween be without it??? (Maybe I’m strange, but I always thought they looked like pulled teeth.)
You know, I read tons of bodice rippers one summer when I was a young teen. These gave me a rather odd sense of what actual sex was like, never mind the consentual rape/good girls don’t like it, mess.
Fer instance, I was convinced the man did actual push ups and the whole thing left you so wiped out you were physically unable to move. As in, you weren’t just happy/tired, you were a gonner if the house was on fire because you were orgasm paralysed. I knew exactly how babies were made, but I had no idea how babies were made. Thank goodness for wicked public school girls or I’d never have figured it out. Or been tremendously surprised years later.
Y’know what halloween treat I want? Homemade caramel apples. And it has to be green apples, using Grammie’s caramel recipe and dipped in crushed pecans. Then somebody cut slices for me. Pleeeease.
Thanks to all my fans for your kind words about my remodeling. No pics this time, but an update: We ordered carpet. It’ll be installed the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. That means we have less than a month to get the dirty work done. As soon as we get the backsplashes in place, we’ll start on the dining room. The new wall needs to be mudded and the mirror tiles need to come down. Anybody want the mirrored tiles? FREE! If you come pick them up, I’ll make you lunch even!
Back to the carpet - when the guy was here to measure and give us the total cost (chokegaspwheeze) I asked him about the ads that say Three rooms of carpet for only $799!! He chuckled. That’s when I knew mine would cost more than $799. On the other hand, we’re getting the best pad, and we’ve got somewhere between 700-800 square feet to be installed, plus we’re paying extra to have them remove and take away the old crap and also move the furniture. There comes a time in your life when it’s much more desirable to write a check than to do the heavy lifting yourself. For the record, that time is when you turn 50. So you young’uns have something to look forward to and you geezers who are still doing it should just loosen up on the purse strings!
And the reason we’re not doing any work today is that I woke up at 3AM for no apparent reason and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Alas, my tossing and turning awoke my sweetie a couple of times till I went to the family room to watch Animal Planet, so he’s pretty pooped, too. So we’re taking tonight off. In case you were wondering…
“The Carpet Guys” would be an adequate, yet unexceptional band name. Like “Orgasm Paralysis”. Tonight at the Ripped Bodice, it’s… Orgasm Paralysis!!!
I’ve heard about the gum getting rid of molesBumba, but I think it’s an Old Wives’ Tale. If you want to get rid of a mole, you should go to a Dermatologist. (Ha!) The gum I heard you should use is Chiclets though. Something about the candy coating. But if you really want to get rid of the moles in your yard, you should spray for grubs. Since the moles eat grubs, if the grubs are all gone, the moles will get hungry and go to your neighbor’s yard.
Those sunflower whirlygigs are supposed to get rid of burrowing pests too. Something about the vibrations. And the whirlygigs are just so pretty. Which reminds me, I need a garden gnome next spring. (They usually sell whirlygigs the same place they sell garden gnomes, so it’s a good segue. No matter what you say about it.) I figure if I start my gnome shopping now, I should find a really good one by spring. (I know a place that sells concretia. They have a concrete bust of Elvis. They’ll even paint it all life-like for you for a nominal fee. They might have a good gnome.) Or I could put it on my list for Santa. Santa will get me a garden gnome, wouldn’t he? I think he would.
I suppose I could go ahead and look it up in my TV guide, but I’m gonna be lazy and ask the question…just exactly what do you watch on Animal Planet at three in the mohnin’???
I didn’t sleep good last night neither. I kept waking up because my lungs were all scritchy. I sure hope I’m not getting the crud, especially since I can’t get me no flu shot this year. I’ve taken advantage of my company’s freebies for 14 years but this year they can’t get none. Havin’ the flu is no fun, specially when your hubby is begging you to go to the ER…on New Years Eve…2000!!!
You don’t read bodic-rippers, exactly, it’s more like skimming to look for the funny bits. Heavens, that woman is a terrible writer. There’s supposed-to-be-deep-Stone-Age-poetry that compares with Danielle Steel’s traumatic opus, Love. And they’re all so conciousness-raised that it’s hysterical: “Neandertals are people, too! Everyone is equally loved by the Great Earth Mother! Let’s go have another orgy! Women and men are equal, except that women are more equal than men!”
I went to dance class last night. Consequently I am sore.
At the risk of being totally uncool–who is Johnny Damon and who does he belong to now?
I ordered myself a Steiff Winnie the Pooh and it’s been shipped. Now that I have my Midwinter present, I need to start shopping for Christmas presents for family and friends. Always shop before the credit car bill comes is my motto.
I didn’t know myself who he was until early this week - late to the party as always, I started watching the Red Sox only when they got to the world series. Could have been worse - started rooting for the Marlins when they got to the 7th inning in game 7 of the series, so I figure I am ahead of the game right now. So, to answer the question, he is a Red Sox player - and a gorgeous, gorgeous man. I’m normally don’t like long hair on men - but for him, I’ll make an exception. http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/story/7832311
And I have a ton 'o Pooh stuff - I have a weakness for Eeyore. It’s a strange thing about my nature - favorite characters always seem to be the dark ones. Eeyore, Rogue on X-Men, Raven on Teen Titans - if they are gloomy, they are my favorite.
I have done no Christmas shopping yet - luckily, I live literally across the road from a mall, so I can do it very easily.
The San Diego Union-Tribune is doing a sports poll this week about who should play Damon in the hypothetical movie of his life. I can’t remember all the choices, but the one I remember was James Caviezel (who was Jesus in The Passion) - with the long hair, I’d say he’s a dead ringer.
Actually, Johnny Damon looks like he could model for the cover of a bodice ripper, don’tcha think??? I can actually read the blurb*…“John Damon, scoundrel son of the earl, but he’s misunderstood, and only the lovely Susan can save him.”*
Rue, would you believe that among all the assorted garden ornamentations that the previous owners left here for us, there was nary a gnome amongst them? Closest we’ve got is a bunny in a dress. Or the concrete deer, sans antlers. I thought about sending you some of the residual ornamentations, but I’d rather stay as your #1 Special Friend, so I resisted temptaion. Plus, the postage on a concrete deer is just nuts! But if I’d had a gnome to spare, I’d have sent it to you.
Tupug, I didn’t actually turn the TV on till 4, and it was some kind of animal police show - you know, the kinds of folks who investigate abuse or trap critters who get into places where they’re not supposed to be. It was actually a pretty neat show, and if I wasn’t all tired and grouchy at that hour, I’d probably have enjoyed it more.
Lissla, my dearly departed maternal grandmother used to buy bodice rippers from a thrift store in her neighborhood for a quarter a pop. When she got done with them, she’d pass them to me with such comments as “This one has a lot of good parts.” She cracked me up. Yes, I read them. I admit I used to spend my free time reading trashy novels. Furthermore, when I’m waiting for my car to be repaired, I’ll read People or Us or whatever other rags they have in the lounge.
So there you have it. The illusion is shattered. I’m not an intellectual. I read trash. And I don’t have any gnomes. <insert deep, sad sigh here>
I don’t have anything else to add, but since this is my 9000th post, I felt I must make it in the MMP.
No, don’t make a fuss. No need to send chocolates or flowers. I’m not expecting a backrub or a foot massage. Don’t bother taking me out to dinner. Really. I’ll just sit here in the dark…
Woo hoo! 9000 posts! Since you don’t want any chocolates or flowers I’ll keep 'em for myself. Would you like a burly gentleman to give you that foot rub, though? I’m running a special on them this week-- my regular shipment contained extra misunderstood, rogue bodice rippers.
It’s raining here, again. Scout, could you please keep your weather to yourself? Darned San Diegans, always tossing their clouds over the mountains at us desert folk. Of course I would have given you a biiiig kiss if you’d just waited till I got home, so I could enjoy the rain from under a quilt, like decent people.
Unfortunately, they have about a gazillion grams of carbs per piece, so I don’t get any now. On the up side, I’m getting positively skinny (er). Missus made me go and buy new pants 'cause my old ones were too big. Actually she bought them. I just went along to model.