I didn’t click on the view post option this morning and so went all day before I realized there was a massive BOLD font accident. And then when I tried to fix it, I failed the first time. Perhaps it was good that I did not do much today.

The excitement, other than the above, “oh, my gosh” moment, was the arrival of my new ricer. The old one just totally gave up the ghost this Thanksgiving. This new one is all shiny, but the old one had a red handle . . . that eventually bent and was bent back using the handle of a wooden spoon for a brace until that also gave out. Of course, don’t let me confuse the issue – the handle stayed red, it just broke more. Breaking Bad maybe.

I think I am seeing a wisp of the old AmeliaJake in that last sentence.

Here’s a little ha-ha at AJ’s expense:

I have a small collection of old kitchen implements, many having been touched by people of five generations. When I was looking on the internet – actually, Der Bingle heard my “OH NO!” from the kitchen and started the search – I saw a picture of this odd-looking thing that is among my stuff . . . and then exclaimed, “That’s a ricer?!?” I guess all my young life, I was given the training wheel ricer while perhaps in another room the pros were using the sort of art deco-looking one.

I’m going to have to try it, although I can see myself sending a potato sailing toward the ceiling.

Okay, it’s all nice and dark outside just like it’s been the past four to five days that I haven’t posted anything and don’t remember doing much of anything. The pattern may hold, even though I have just stopped in to say “Hi.” I can understand my not doing anything, but it is odd that I am not expressing my opinion/observations about something.

When I was little, my parents were always telling me: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. Heck, after all these decades could I finally be heeding that advice? Oh, I so strongly doubt it.
JOE BIDEN IS A JERK!
Okay, I was right; that’s not it.

Gee, you don’t think I’m in my tsunami mode do you? Pulling back, pulling back, pulling back and them just totally bombarding this space with big surges of words?

Oh, you know I can’t hear musical tones . . . but last night Clara and I sang cheerful Christmas carols in the room. I relied on “grin power” to mitigate the tonal part; it kind of worked.