I am well aware that I owe you guys tons of posts. I need to tell you all about Ireland, and Northern Ireland (yes, the two are different. Don’t for a second think that they aren’t very, very different), and I have gobs to tell you about Milwaukee. Because, man, did I love Milwaukee (it is a…
I’m pretty sure Lisa gave me the hat as a joke. Actually, I’m certain that she did. Lisa and I, we seem to have this running gag that’s sprung up between us about hats. It all started with this one, which I bought in Lisa’s company on a chilly but sunny day when we got…
– Growing up, we had a cat. You know what? That statement isn’t quite accurate. We actually had several cats. But there was one cat that sort of stood out from the rest. A spry little calico with markings that I still remember by heart: one eye was rimmed in black, the other in orange,…
My pal (and fellow blogger) Deanna recently sent this photo to me: –
I’ve never understood the need for personal space.
While wandering around Palo Alto, I spotted this toy hanging from a rack at a grocery store: –
– There are things that you can imagine yourself saying. Things like, “Why thank you, yes, I will take a third helping of dessert.” or “We can hang out at our house, but you guys have to not touch the dust piles. I’ve been collecting them for three months, and there’s one specimen that I…
I have the emotional maturity of an 11-year-old. A really immature 11-year-old. Remember how I laughed maniacally at the scene where Jean Claude Van Damme walks around naked in Universal Soldier? Not much has changed since then. I think the human anatomy is hysterical.
There’s a gentleman who plays guitar on the banks of the Thames, near the Tate Museum in London.
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
