keeping tabs on things
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Actually, I have too many tabs open and pages marked. Time to record the contents here so I can close them and move on. In no particular order:
In answer to rhubarb: sweet potato brownies, a recipe from Robert St. John's Deep South Parties, or, How to Survive the Southern Cocktail Hour Without a Box of French Onion Soup Mix, a Block of Processed Cheese, or a Cocktail Weenie. (Mind, in spite of the subtitle, the book contains three different recipes for pimento cheese. That said, I think the idea of Red-Bean-and-Rice Spring Rolls with Creole-Tomato Dipping Sauce is absolutely brilliant, even though I personally refuse to deep-fry and thus will never get around to making them.)
The Voluptuous Vegan is currently out on loan, but the library had another book by the same author, called The Healthy Hedonist. We shall see...
From the Cimarron Review archives: Tina Schumann's Travelling Instructions:
[M'ris, this reminded me of both you and me. I think because our deep attachment to our homes...]
Speaking of M'ris -- she posted the opening to "Carter Hall on Enemy Ice" at the start of this week. I adore every glimpse of this universe I get. (Carter on his seven-year-old niece: "She punched me in the shoulder. I have got to get Tam to teach her to pull her punches, because Janet never will." *glee*)
Speaking of not pulling punches: a discussion of conflicts of interest in medical journals. The killer quote is near the end, from Marcia Angell:
(N.b. I'm re-quoting this without having read the original article from which this bit is taken. Caveat lector...)
Jon Wertheim: "THIS is what I love about tennis: a Filipino fan of Russian player who retires in Dubai writes to a journalist in central New Jersey to express despair."
Not to mention the fact that I'm currently trading tweets with a (I think) English fan of South Asian ancestry about a match between Scottish and Argentinian players taking place in Spain (and comparing the Scot's current inability to convert break points with our favorite Swiss airhead). Heh.
From Robert K. Greenleaf's dream journal, January 26, 1961:
And so, back to work. Stay warm and well, my dears. To borrow a phrase from the wise and lovely Jennifer Michael Hecht, I shall return to encourage you again.
Because I am feeling like a house today
--all brackets and blueprints--you must appeal to the dog
in me; the one whose snout travels the floor
for any known scent, any signifier of home...
[M'ris, this reminded me of both you and me. I think because our deep attachment to our homes...]
It is simply no longer possible to believe much of the clinical research that is published, or to rely on the judgment of trusted physicians or authoritative medical guidelines. I take no pleasure in this conclusion, which I reached slowly and reluctantly over my two decades as an editor of the New England Journal of Medicine.
(N.b. I'm re-quoting this without having read the original article from which this bit is taken. Caveat lector...)
Not to mention the fact that I'm currently trading tweets with a (I think) English fan of South Asian ancestry about a match between Scottish and Argentinian players taking place in Spain (and comparing the Scot's current inability to convert break points with our favorite Swiss airhead). Heh.
Life should be leisurely, not to allow time for loafing or for slowness of pace, but to allow for organization of the optimum life: whenever one finds he or she cannot do the things that are most important for want of time, something is basically wrong with the structure.
-- epigraph, Seeker and Servant: Reflections on Religious Leadership
And so, back to work. Stay warm and well, my dears. To borrow a phrase from the wise and lovely Jennifer Michael Hecht, I shall return to encourage you again.
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