Oh, stop with your Airwick, we're Lampe Berger People, Obviously!

Do you Lampe Berger? Because if you are not doing la Lampe Berger, your living space probably smells like cabbage, wet dog, and "He swore this was the good shit, but, I dunno...."

We came across Lampe Berger lamps whilst traipsing around Peddlers' Village, because we are world-class traipsers and Peddlers' Village is not terribly far from our Far Northeast Philadelphian urban existence. It's a delightful jaunt. We pass sheep, ponies, and other rural things to get there. Things are different there. One can eat very regrettably and shop disgustingly. And we have.  I know this isn't a winning endorsement--but keep it under advisement. One can eat better and shop smarter than Peddlers Village, but one won't fucking Lampe Berger. I fucking Lampe Berger now.  I am too working class to know about this shit--but now I do. And now that I know, I can't unknow this shit, people!

The Lampe Berger is an invention from 1898 that began as a way to "purify" or at least, deodorize, hospitals. It uses a wick to soak up a scented oil/alcohol mix that perfumes a given area. This it does, very effectively.  If you have just cooked a mess of ribs and garlicked peas, your Lampe Berger will stop that mess from making you feel like the ghost of that meal is haunting you all night. It doesn't smoke like scented candles or incense and in its way, is terribly....pretty.  And the variety of scents of the House Berger are many, and for a nasal snob, too exciting.

"Born This Way / Express Yourself / I Like It"

This guy has talent:
 

The Vlad the Impaler Conundrum--a thing I think about--

This comes from Robert Anton Wilson's Schroedinger's Cat Trilogy, and I'm paraphrasing because I'm fucked if I'm either supposed to transcribe or figure out how to copy/paste from Adobe, so here's the conundrum:

Two monks are travelling through the Transylvanian countryside, and its getting late, and they need a place to stay for the evening. Their host, Vlad the Impaler, was of bad repute, but they consented to stay with him instead of trying their luck with the wolves.

So anyway, Vlad being Vlad, he puts the eternal question to the two monks, "How'm I doing?"  It's part an earnest question, and part a dare. Would they be honest with him, or would they fib their asses off in hopes of not getting impaled.  Because impaling sounds really bad, you know?

So anyway, the first monk kisses Vlad's ass. Such a lovely place he has here. His peasants seem so loyal. Everyone is so quiet and well-mannered and dedicated. Obviously Vlad must be doing a super bang-up job of things, because he has a lovely place, and, and looks so great in those trousers. In other words, out of fear of his life, or maybe even sympathy with the devil, the first friar laid it on thick.

The second monk took the totally opposite tack. How dare Vlad even ask the question, when he must know full well how he treated the people of his province? How, if they seemed so loyal and mannerly, it was because they feared for their lives? How they lived a life that was less than humans should expect, and that he, Vlad, was to blame and should fear for his soul.

Who did Vlad impale?

The answer is supposed to suggest a lot about one's relationship to authority. Most people at least understand he had to impale one of them--minimum.

Me--I think he impaled the guy who told the truth. Right in front of the guy who kissed ass. Because it was expected. And the monk who kissed ass breathed a momentary sigh of relief before he was brutally disemboweled.

Because Vlad the Impaler, is why.

 Lesson: Know your motherfucker.

Robbie Williams and Tom Jones--Are you Gonna Go My Way?

It's the voices--and um, I don't need video to know, I'd be so melting to see them both in concert, so, there's that.

Dried Figs with nuts in their butts.

I'm all about real food. I like to snack on simple things that don't have a whole lot of ingredients, and lately, the nosh I've been crazy about is dried figs (because we got a mess of dried white figs on sale at a local produce store, and I still have a stash of organic mission figs we got at Nuts Online --seriously--if you love nuts, seeds, spices, and dried fruit, this is the place to go!) with almonds and pistachios stuffed into the crevice you have after pulling off the woody stem.

Because I am classy like that, I am referring to the resulting appetizer/dessert as "Figs With two Nuts up their Butts". Because I put both an organic salted almond and a large, California pistachio, in the, um, aperture of the fig. The result is so sweet and salty--and chewy and crunchy! This is definitely the thing that is tiding me over until my own fig trees give'em up (that will be late August, probably), so I can enjoy more elegant things like fresh figs with ham and blue cheese (another elegant, dumb recipe--halve fresh fig, stuff blue cheese on one slice, bandage halves back together with a slice of good ham--toast in an oven for like, 15 mins. It's ridiculously easy and Oh my literarily speaking God, I have to wait four, almost five months! Before I can taste this heaven in mouth again!)

So in the meanwhile, my fig-cravings are all about stuffing nuts into my dried fruit. Also--OMG! Do this--parmesan cheese with a drizzle of good honey and a Granny Smith Apple slice! No--shut up, DO IT!  Or if you "entertain", lemon-juice up some apple slices and slap them on a honeyed parmesan cheese "raft" and get these bad boys on a plate for your next wine (beer) and cheese "thing".

Re--freaking-dickulous. I'm of the opinion simple recipes kick the most ass. This is easy--totally kicks ass. Fruits and nuts--not just produce--they are an adventure!

Random Meat--not your cup of tea?

This appears to be a teacup, saucer, and spoon all made of meat. Probably bacon. If I were to drink tea from a cup fashioned from bacon, I think I would go with a lapsang souchong.  The smoky flavor would be very complimentary to the pork flavor. Also, I think instead of my usual Splenda in tea, I would use just a smidgen of maple syrup. The lovely thing is eating the tea service instead of washing-up, making the idea not only aesthetically pleasing but dead practical. And delicious!

I make things! These are booties I crocheted for myself!

I've been re-learning how to crochet. My grandmom taught me how to crochet maybe 25 years ago, but it's a skill I didn't really have a whole lot of use for. I started blankets, bags, a lot of projects, when I was younger, but I guess I just wasn't as interested in seeing things out to the end. Now, I feel a sense of accomplishment when I make something I really am satisfied with, and lately, I've been making booties.

I've made two pairs for my husband, and they were okay--the first pair I made, after about 20 years without even touching a crochet-needle, were overlarge, and I think I might want to see if some other, larger-footed male in my family has a use for them.  I made a slightly-better purple pair that my husband does use, and they were nice enough, but I had left over yarn from them, and then found a lavendar and white acrylic that was really soft and really cheap, and thought I'd make myself a pair. Because they were mine, I used the left-over purple yarn to make a detail at the ankle and  pretty flowers that I fastened on with more of the lavendar yarn. I think they turned out pretty nice (although I still seem to be making my projects "big"--they are a tiny bit loose. ) Anyway--random thing! Made by me! I'm kind of proud of them! Yay, crafting!

Breastfeeding Dolls and Being Female-bodied (Also--the U-word! And boobies!)

There's been a little interest over this baby doll that allows children to play at breastfeeding.  Some people find this a "mature" concept or just intimate or weird. I think these people are really too uptight. Female-bodied women who have given birth can feed their babies with their mammary glands. It's part of being a mammal. It's a scientific fact that this is what boobies are intended for. It's also the best way for most human babies to be fed, for many health reasons. So I'm a little flummoxed when I hear that some people find this to be a controversial toy--it's a doll. Kids like to mirror the behavior of adults, and have been playing with dolls since forever. Breastfeeding is totally natural--so it's natural for a child who is interested in family-oriented play ("house", we called it, when I was a pup), to use a doll to mimic suckling, just as they've used dolls to mimic bottle-feeding.

Is there something weird about the idea of pretending to be a mother when one is not old enough to have children--that suddenly becomes extra-weird when it means imagining one has developed functional mammaries? In other words--is it somehow normal for a child to imagine having a baby (and we adults presumably know where babies come from), and yet not appropriate to play out having the grown-woman's body required to nurture that pretend-baby?

I don't know why I have a picture of a chicken purse in my hard drive.

I'm not sure whether I intended to blog about it or if it was something I really, really, really thought I wanted. I can't remember what site I copy and pasted this picture from. Although I am not sure that I have any outfit that would do justice to a chicken purse, there is something so very....chicken about this purse that I really think I would wear it proudly, just because people would totally have to comment. 

"You sure like chickens, huh?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

Someday I will do a blog-post about the mad number of chickens represented in my kitchen decor. It's a whole lot of chickens. Or, I could post about my ridiculous love of purses, because, yeah, it's a lot of purses. The intersection of the two obsessions is right here--chicken purse.

(If this is your chicken purse, by all means contact me about where I found this pic and where you found your purse, because....hello, very awesome!)

UPDATE: It was Kitschy Living. I know because I went back to the site and did what I'm always tempted to do--see....every....picture. And there it was.