Jun. 18th, 2008

ritaxis: (Default)
#If the nice fellow were a bit nicer or he loved me a bit more he would not buy an entire gallon of ice cream when he's the only person in the whole house who's allowed to eat it.  For the same money, he could go to Maryanne's a bunch of times and get really luxurious milkshakes every time, and have more fun.

#The miniature racing tank baby I wrote about a while back has turned into a demon dancer.  He's pretty eclectic: he'll spin and spin like a dervish, and then butt his head like he's in a mosh pit.  But mostly he just clog dances and claps his hands.  He grins like the movie toy "Chuckie" but hde really looks like Orson Welles.

Also, he no longer pushes the cute little babies over.  He just walks over, a thoughtful look on his face and his arm held out, and they fall over screaming before he gets there. I'm afraid he finds this phenomenon endlessly fascinating.  You can see his thought processes: "What was that?  Can I do it again?  How close do I have to get before she'll flop over and scream?  What's supposed to happen next?"

#It takes almost eight apricots to fill a dehydrator tray, which means forty apricots to fill the whole dehydrator.  when the dehydrator is full of trays of thin thin apricots it takes about sixteen hours to render them dry enough to pack away.  Putting the antioxidant in a bowl and stirring the slices around is not as good as sprinkling the antioxidant on a tray, laying out a layer of apricots, and sprinkling them again.  Sadly.

#I'm going to the opera Friday! Lucia di Lammermoor, though I'd rather have seen one I had never seen before.  Quite the cultural journey, huh -- Orchestra Baobab to Verdi in less than two weeks.

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