Three Days until Spring and Too Early for April Fooling

Yes, we really got all this snow overnight and, at two in the afternoon on March 17th, it still hasn’t stopped.

I never would have thought, when I moved to Virginia (it is, technically, the south, after all) that I would have  more occasion to use cross-country skis than my bicycle. Go figure! I’ll just keep waiting for spring. Meanwhile, has anyone got some snowshoes I can borrow?

Will our crocuses hang in there? I’m crossing my fingers! In the meantime, with the fireplace lit and the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate, it’s beginning to feel a lot more like Christmas than St. Paddy’s Day.

Wishing you all good cheer and some Irish luck!

Until next time,

– Jennifer

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A Hint of Spring and a Memory of Winter

Yesterday, when I saw these flowers that had sprung up through the dry grass and coat of winter leaves lying strewn across a neighbor’s yard, I could hardly believe my eyes. After such a long winter, I had become so accustomed to seeing nothing but shades of brown that the bright yellow and lavender of these blossoms came as a shock. I had to stop and take a picture.The first spring colors after a long, long winter

The first spring colors after a long, long winter 

Looking at them, it’s hard to believe that I took this next picture just 6 days before the other!

Garden owl, snuggled into the snow next to what remains of last year's lavender, waiting for better weather

Garden owl, snuggled into the snow next to what remains of last year’s lavender, waiting for better weather

I am actually a great fan of the winter, the cold weather and the snow. This season, however, has been a little too long even for me. I am looking forward to spring. My bicycle is in the garage looking sad and bored and the woodland trails I love are a muddy morass. Bring on the spring, with its its bright greens of new growth and its warm, soft grass to lie down on. It will be coming soon. Until then, however, here is a little encore for the winter: some pictures from our last two big snowfalls, one a week ago and one two weeks before that.

Two in the bush: a male and female cardinal wait their turn at the bird feeder

Two in the bush (so to speak): a male and female cardinal wait their turn at the bird feeder

Waiting his turn

Waiting his turn

Vying for position

Vying for position

Under the bird feeder, the ground feeders clean up the fallen seeds

Under the bird feeder, the ground feeders clean up the fallen seeds

Following the hoof prints through the snow...

Following the hoof prints through the snow…

Can you see them all huddled together? I tried to count them, but there were more than a dozen of all sizes and ages.

Can you see them all huddled together? I tried to count them, but there were more than a dozen of all sizes and ages.

As I stood watching, a flash of red caught my eye. Never before had I been lucky enough to see the neighborhood fox, but there he was, in broad daylight, prowling right past the herd of deer. They watched him but gave no sign of alarm at the sight. He was bright red and bigger than I would have imagined – he came up higher than some of their knees. I could see the white tip of his tail as he made his way up the hill behind him, slinking sleekly through snow. I couldn’t catch him in a picture, but I won’t soon forget.

This straggler and a couple others were busy stripping the bark from trees. It's been a hard winter for our local deer.

This straggler and a couple others were busy stripping the bark from trees. It’s been a hard winter for our local deer.

The deer won’t the only local animals to have a tough time this winter. We’ve done our bit for the birds, as well as for the squirrels.

Squirrel prints on the snow. They've discovered the pile of peanuts we put out on the porch before going to bed last night.

Squirrel prints on the snow. They’ve discovered the pile of peanuts we put out on the porch before going to bed last night.

Here they come!


Action shot! The squirrels don’t so much run as  leap in bounds across the surface of the snow, braving the hawks that circle about the yard and the nearby woods


Well-earned snack

On that note, I’ll close, hoping that I’ll have no occasion to put up any more pictures of snow until next November!

Thanks for stopping by!

See you next time.

– Jennifer

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The Great NYC Deli Dichotomy


In a case outside the deli, healthy vegan meals to go. Pick what you like, open the fridge (there’s no attendant and there are no locks) and then take it inside to pay at the register. It’s the healthiest “street” food I’ve ever seen

The healthiest "street" food I've ever seen

A closer look…

Once you’ve been lured inside by the prospect of an innocent, guilt-free meal, you’ll find yourself ambushed by the largest variety of chips (that’s crisps for my British friends out there) you’ve ever seen. Temptation! Get thee behind me!

From yellow to blue, from salt-'n'-vinegar to Sriracha, this aisle had more colors and flavors of chips than I'd ever dreamed could exist

From yellow to blue, from red to purple, from plain potato to sweet potato to corn and more, from salt-‘n’-vinegar to Sriracha and from mesquite to that horrible American imposter called “parmesan,” this aisle had more types, colors and flavors of chips than I’d ever dreamed could exist (not to mention pretzels, popcorn and cheese puffs galore).

Of course, New York City is full of such paradoxical delis. No East Coast city embraced organic food or the vegan movement as early or as whole-heartedly as NYC but, at the same time, ask any Midwesterner what they know about NY cuisine and the first thing that pops into their heads will be the famous New York pizza slice (which no Italian in their right mind would equate with pizza as they know it). Ask most Europeans, and pretty much all they’ll know about eating in New York will boil down to cheesecake and the dubious offerings of those iconic hot dog carts. Anyone who’s spent any amount of time in the Big Apple knows better. In New York you can find pretty much any kind of food imaginable: the very best… and the absolute worst.

For more on this same Lower East Side deli of infinite variety, you can check out my two previous posts about the incredible shelf of Spam and what might be Manhattan’s largest assortment of hot sauces.

More NYC images and adventures coming soon.

Thanks for stopping by!

– Jennifer

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Not a Parisian Thrift Shop

How to make your thrift shop window display as attractive as possible for all those ugly-sweater-party aficionados:

First: hang up your ugliest, most improbable sweater at the very center of your display (and, since we’re going for that run-down, super-cheap, down-on-its-luck-second-hand-store look, be sure not to wash your window first).


Ee-ai-ee-ai… oooohhhh noooooo

Second: Take a display dummy, your second-ugliest sweater and… need I say more?


Not even in his worst nightmares did Bart dream of such an ignominious fate…

One thing’s for sure, no one will ever be able to accuse this shop keeper of pretentious window design. Indeed, I doff my hat to him, so to speak. When the warehouse gives you lemons…

Hope that cheered up your day without offending you taste sensibilities tooooo much…

See you next time,

– Jennifer

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Some Like It Hot

I think the contents of these two shelves are not so much inventory as they are arsenal. There’s enough hot sauce here to burn the last taste buds off of a vindaloo addict, to break the fifth alarm on the five-alarm-chili machine, to permanently disable the noses of an entire K9 unit. Looking more closely, I think we could probably find the proper hot sauce to fit any recipe in any ethnic cookbook you could buy in New York City, which is where I found this shelf. Indeed, it is right next door to the shocking-variety-of-Spam shelf you might have seen featured here a couple of days ago.

Not enough spice in your life?

Not enough spice in your life? Sriracha, Tabasco, Red Devil, Cholula, Chili Sauce… this deli has got it all

Making a quick calculation and figuring that the bottles go back about 3 deep, I estimate there are a minimum of 18 varieties of hot sauce on these two shelves, for a total of approximately 54 bottles. I do believe that such a stock would keep my family happy for at least, say, 3 or 4 generations. That is, if no one accidentally knocked down the shelving in the interim. That might result in the destruction of the world as we know it – which, come to think of it, we might survive. After all, we would have the Spam shelf.

  • Here’s the hard science behind why people like hot sauce… and why, once they start, they want it hotter and hotter (and no, it’s not because they burn off all their tastebuds, although there must be some truth to that, too: The Science of Sriracha’s Good Burn (
  • Did this post make you hungry? Are you in need of a handy recipe? Then try this one out: How to cook the ultimate vindaloo (
  • And now for something completely different:” 12 Gifts For The Sriracha Addict (

And if you survive all that, we’ll see you next time.

Thanks for dropping by!


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Not Your Usual Park Bench

Many of the benches in New York’s Central Park bear small metal plaques. Most are dedications to departed loved ones for whom the park was a special place. They are places to sit and remember those who have left us and recall the times spent there in their company. They are places of thoughtfulness and reminiscence.

Not so this bench:

Not your usual sentimental park-bench dedication

Not your usual sentimental park-bench dedication. If you feel like taking the plaque writers up on their advice, you’ll find this bench on the path leading to the entrance of the Central Park Zoo. 

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On a related note:

The lack of gravitas evident in this particular bench plaque put me in mind of a place I know from my travels, Romania’s famous Merry Cemetery, where the colorful grave markers bear epitaphs that are generally humorous. Some incorporate witty poems that poke not unkindly fun at those they commemorate, while others are a little less forgiving. The inhabitants of the little town of Săpânța take it all in good faith. This New York Times article, You’ll Die Laughing, if You’re Not Already Dead, tells its story quite nicely.

That’s all for today! Thanks for bringing your tush over to my blog and see you again soon!

– Jennifer

Spam, Glorious Spam!

Most people on the Continent have never heard of it. Still, every culture, even the most fine, produces some version of it: pressed meat in a can. Even the Italians have their own version: Simmenthal (which is shredded and encased in aspic rather than pressed, and tastes much better than it sounds). The British, of course, have their famous corned beef, which can be purchased in a can in a tin. Perhaps the French are above such things, but somehow I’m sure they have their own version as well (well, of course they have their tins of fine pâté that go for €50 a pop, but I’m talking about the kind of  tinned (or canned if you’re American) meat that makes the gourmands out there turn up their noses, so we can’t really include pâté in our list). No, I’m talking about the stuff we Americans know as SPAM. It’s the stuff that was used as rations during WWII (and, to this day, remains a kind of regional delicacy in Hawaii as a result… yes, there is such a thing as Spam salad, Spam pizza…). All these years I’ve been under the impression that Spam was, simply, Spam. Au contraire! However, I had to go to an NYC deli on the Lower East Side to discover that this historically  (and often affectionately) maligned American delicacy food item has branched out quite a bit since the 1940s. Who would have guessed? If you’ve been worrying that food might get boring after a hypothetical ice-age/nuclear/zombie/asteroid-provoked apocalypse, you can breathe a sigh of relief. The good old Spam company has ensured that we will not lack for variety for quite a few decades after the end of the world as we know it.

Can man live on Spam alone?

Can man live on Spam alone? Perhaps it’s not so far-fetched of an idea after all (well, provided the man in question isn’t a vegetarian).

Thanks for coming along to NYC! I saw a whole lot more than Spam on a shelf, but let’s take things one at a time. There will be more NY adventures coming soon.

Until next time, bon appétit!

– Jennifer

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Surprise Migration from Florida… (well, sort of)

What to do with a sudden overnight snowfall of over a foot? Walking through my neighborhood the day after our most recent catastrophic snowstorm (after some serious shoveling), I saw a variety of impromptu lawn decorations, from snow forts to snow people of all sorts. This, however, takes the blue ribbon for most original post-snowfall lawn decoration.


For the delight of tacky lawn-ornament aficionados and tongue-in-cheek ornithologists: a flock of rare pink Arctic flamingos graces my neighbors’ lawn the morning after our last big snowstorm

We’re supposed to get another flash snowfall of a foot tonight. I can’t wait to see what they do next time…

And, for those of you interested in things even stranger than the common front-yard dwelling suburban flamingo:

Lastly, for those of you who just love flamingos (I know you’re out there):

See you after the blizzard and thanks for stopping by!


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