Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Dear friends, I screwed up. It was not my intention to post a big fat muckity muck on how New Yorkers Are People, Too, whackadoo, whackadoo, whackadoo (Sorry. Every once in a while, I prove my mother right when she says that I watched too damn much tv as a kid), only to disappear for three days. I've had so many nifties I've wanted to share with you, including musings on the cold -- basically it's been very cold here, but not as cold as its been for some of you -- the cardamom snaps recipe, for which 'mouse has been asking so sweetly; a damn fine recipe for spaghetti sauce; and a smaller, more contained rant about the impending death of yet another New York City bakery.
I still have plans for all of this, but my plans have run smack dab into my other plans, also known as The Trip Down to Philadelphia to Spend Christmas With the 'Rents.
Lloyd and I have 2 p.m. Metroliner tickets, so there is a chance I may be able to post tomorrow before leaving. In the event that I do not, though, please have a wonderful Christmas weekend, dear friends. Eat well, drink better, be safe, and please, please come back to visit on Sunday, when Lloyd and I get home and I'll be itching to tell a good story or six.
Posted by
Bakerina at 11:54 PM in
stuff and nonsense
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(1)
Comments •
Aaaack! I can’t believe the Wonderama link didn’t linkify! It should be fixed now. David, it lights me up like a Christmas tree that you remember that damn show with the guy and the dog. 
I watched it for years, but the only thing I can remember are the “Kids Are People Too” singalong and Snake Cans.
I should probably clarify that apology (and try not to apologize for it! sorry! och, there I go again!). It wasn’t the post I was apologizing for, it was the fact that I didn’t post for three days afterwards. This time last year I was a brand-new blogger, and I was posting long essays every single day, and every once in a while my conscience pricks me when Real Life(tm) gets in the way.
Kimberly, I can’t begin to grasp that there will be a white Christmas in Houston, but not in Philadelphia. The mind boggles, it really does. I hope you get all kinds of goodies—between posting the cardamom snaps recipe and being rudely awoken by extreme turbulence, you deserve them.
Legs, have I told you how much I loved our How Green Was My Valley conversations? I might just have to reread it this winter.
C, you and I would have such a stone-cold blast in Phila. We could have a food tour through Reading Terminal Market, Chinatown (home of Ray’s, the best coffee bar in the known universe, and if you ask nicely, they’ll cook you the best (off-menu) fried rice you’ve ever eaten, the Italian Market (a whole neighborhood! The real estate folks have rechristened it Bella Vista, but nuts to them—it’ll always be the Italian Market to me), South Street (once the home of Tower Books, where I met the famous Lloyd). Even if we didn’t do a food tour, there are still plenty of places to walk around and contemplate and go shopping and have nice non-vodka-based drinks...but really, the food tour would be grand fun.
Merry Christmas, everyone. How I wish I could just give you directions to my parents’ house so that we could all spend it together. I’m sure my mom would be totally cool with a house full of company. Really.
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Aaaack! I can’t believe the Wonderama link didn’t linkify! It should be fixed now. David, it lights me up like a Christmas tree that you remember that damn show with the guy and the dog.
I watched it for years, but the only thing I can remember are the “Kids Are People Too” singalong and Snake Cans.
I should probably clarify that apology (and try not to apologize for it! sorry! och, there I go again!). It wasn’t the post I was apologizing for, it was the fact that I didn’t post for three days afterwards. This time last year I was a brand-new blogger, and I was posting long essays every single day, and every once in a while my conscience pricks me when Real Life(tm) gets in the way.
Kimberly, I can’t begin to grasp that there will be a white Christmas in Houston, but not in Philadelphia. The mind boggles, it really does. I hope you get all kinds of goodies—between posting the cardamom snaps recipe and being rudely awoken by extreme turbulence, you deserve them.
Legs, have I told you how much I loved our How Green Was My Valley conversations? I might just have to reread it this winter.
C, you and I would have such a stone-cold blast in Phila. We could have a food tour through Reading Terminal Market, Chinatown (home of Ray’s, the best coffee bar in the known universe, and if you ask nicely, they’ll cook you the best (off-menu) fried rice you’ve ever eaten, the Italian Market (a whole neighborhood! The real estate folks have rechristened it Bella Vista, but nuts to them—it’ll always be the Italian Market to me), South Street (once the home of Tower Books, where I met the famous Lloyd). Even if we didn’t do a food tour, there are still plenty of places to walk around and contemplate and go shopping and have nice non-vodka-based drinks...but really, the food tour would be grand fun.
Merry Christmas, everyone. How I wish I could just give you directions to my parents’ house so that we could all spend it together. I’m sure my mom would be totally cool with a house full of company. Really.