Telltale Tuesday

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I’m telling on myself. Today is one of those days where I welcome any excuse not to concentrate like they welcome that great aunt in the movies everyone wishes they had in real life. Big hugs. Great excitement.

To the point where a conversation about cleaning ovens had me thinking about cleaning my oven. Does my oven need cleaning?

Sure. What oven doesn’t.

Do I need to do it right now?

WELLLLL…

the goldbergs no GIF by TV Land

Probably not. Though maybe any time is a good time to clean your oven?

If you use that, makers of oven cleaner, go ahead and send me a check. And some oven cleaner.

See what I mean?

Distractions can sometimes lead to unexpected creativity and to inspiration. It doesn’t feel like one of those days. No, instead it feels like one of those days where this weird hollow tapping coming from nowhere in particular is going to drive me bonkers.

And not the good kind of bonkers.

Having said that, I’ve just wandered away from this post for ten minutes. Distracted.

Hopefully I can turn this into something a little more efficient and a little more productive. And I hope you have the best of Tuesdays.

Like my political side? Read my opinion pieces here.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

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Sloooooow this Tuesday.

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Ever have one of those days when you wish your blog post would write itself? But then it never, ever does?

Never?

Ever?

You’d think these things would be more helpful by now. This 21st century stuff isn’t anything like we were promised.

(“What’s a blog?” asks my 20th century past self.)

I’m physically tired from the junk-clearing, so so so so much junk clearing, and mentally tired from technical difficulties. I also dropped my phone on my foot, corner down, so ouch.

I think I’m detecting a little bit of a blog-whine today.

Two cups of real coffee down…well, one and a bit, I’d need to reheat if I’m going to drink it, and I’m no more awake than I was when I got out of bed. Which makes me question the wisdom of getting out of bed.

But then we’re back to those 21st century deficits, because then somehow I’m the one who has to feed me and my robot butler hasn’t been invented yet. It’s truly a travesty.

Anyway, we’ve gone about as far as we’re going to go today, literally and figuratively as I’m icing my phone-toe. I hope you’re tearing up your Tuesday.

Like my political side? Read my opinion pieces here.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

So. Yeah. Tuesday.

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So much Tuesday. The rain is gone, for now at least, and from here it looks like serious summer. Postcard summer.

The kind of summer that seems impossible in January.

I’ve got a little time-pressure, which isn’t how I generally blog. I like a languid expression of the day, a quiet intro, or middle-tro as the case may be. Not today.

Today these fingers better get moving. It would help if they moved more accurately. I’m typo-city right now.

But here’s the thing about typos. Sometimes they result in the most-fun things, like my previously-mentioned “caffiend.” I mean it’s so perfect, I kinda think that part of my brain did it on purpose.

Or so I choose to believe.

None of those today, though. Unless “thsoe” sounds interesting. Which, come on, we both know it doesn’t.

Fun fact: it took me three tries to get the typo spelled the way I wrote it the first time.

So no creativity in my mistakes. Today they’re just mistakes. And that’s OK too, or so I hear. Making mistakes.

It’s weird that we seem to make more of them when it’s important that we don’t. Pressure or contrary human nature, who knows which, but the need for perfection always draws them in like flypaper.

Does flypaper work? That’s one of those purely-for-simile-effect things for me, I’ve never used flypaper. But magnets get all the metaphors, so I thought I’d go a different way.

But  I digress.

Maybe the answer is to let perfection go and by doing so, lose all of its crafty traps.

Tuesday on.

Like my political side? Read my opinion pieces here.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

 

Open Tuesday, insert thoughts.

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And it’s Tuesday. Tuesday, Tuesday.

Tuesday.

That’s such a weird word. Of course, any word is weird when you say it enough. No doubt there’s a word for it. And my temporary laziness lost out to my ever-present curiosity.

Not a word, a phrase: Semantic satiation. Constant repetition makes the word lose meaning, reducing the words to mere sounds. Huh.

Makes you wonder if that’s true for other things as well, for ideas, for world problems. Repeat anything enough and it will lose the sticky web holding it together.

Who knows.

I also didn’t realize I was this philosophical today. I clearly haven’t had enough coffee, my brain is in some kind of idling thought mode. Kick it up a notch, brain, much thinking ahead.

Maybe I should make more coffee. But it feels awfully far away.

I slept oddly last night, with the hours seemingly packed with strange, detailed dreams. I say “seemingly” because apparently, as long as dreams feel to us while we’re dreaming them, they’re very brief, minutes.

I’ve said it before, time is weird.

My coffee maker is singing its siren song, assuring me that one more will only help, it won’t hurt at all.

I’ll make it a half-caff, I promise, as we Tuesday on with our Tuesday things.

Definitely semantic satiation.

Like my political side? Read my opinion pieces here.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.

Best: Method of stirring nut butter

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So I’ve decided to share with you, upon occasion, when the mood strikes, because who wants to be completely regimented, the best of random things. And yesterday I decided I’d stumbled across the best method of stirring a natural nut butter.

For the uninitiated, the oil in natural nut butter separates, so you have an inches-thick glossy ooze atop the good stuff. This is also true for peanut butter, which is not actually a nut but a legume, but I digress.

If you open a bottle of peanut butter or cashew butter or almond butter and it’s all blended, I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got additives. Often it’s got palm oil, which is harvested while destroying the environment of the orangutans, and if you’ve seen that heartbreaking video of an orangutan trying to fight off a bulldozer, you’re not going to want that.

Back to my method. It’s super, super easy, which is why I didn’t just say it because we’d have one paragraph and no blog post and what fun is that? Besides you would have missed out on legumes and palm oil.

In order to get an even stir, I use a long-handled plastic spoon. Any silicone- or plastic-handled utensil will do; just don’t use wood as it will be all the harder to clean and I suspect will forever smell of nut butter.

But don’t use the spoon part. Use the handle.

Ahhh.

Go slowly and kind of churn the oil in. Since you have to refrigerate the natural nut butters anyway, as they have no preservatives, once it’s in the fridge, it will be like you never had to blend it at all.

Any “Bests” to share?

Like my political side? Read my opinion pieces here.

Check out  my full-length novels: 

Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)   

Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) 

 Her Cousin Much Removed

 The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management.

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Peruse Montraps Publishing.