I had a hankering for some banana bread, is how it started. So I bought three bananas when I did the grocery shopping last week. You need ripe bananas for banana bread, so I set them aside thinking, I’ll make the bread this weekend.
I says to Charlie, “I’m saving these bananas for banana bread, OK?”
No reply. “Charlie!” I hold up the bananas. “I’m saving these bananas for banana bread.”
“Heard you the first time, Ida,” he says.
“Well, sometimes it’s hard to tell, honey”
I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about the digestive system of earthworms. In fact, since high school – when I had to dissect a worm and locate all its major organs, of which there didn’t seem to be very many – the subject has never crossed my mind. I seem to recall that worms take dirt in one end (only another worm can tell which end is the right one) and pass the same dirt out the other, a process that has metaphorical and philosophical implications that could fill volumes.
Well, we still have a few little patches of snow on the ground here in Mahoosuc Mills, but the ice is breaking up on the river and the birds are chirping up a racket. Spring is in the air; you can just smell it. Time for you-know-what: spring cleaning. Saturday, Charlie and me decided to get to it. While he made himself busy with a dump run and putting the snowmobiles to bed, I took one look at our oven, and decided to start there.
I wouldn’t have thought Maine would have a chance in the Institute for Economics and Peace’s competition to find the most peaceful state in the U.S. To take the title, the Pine Tree State would have had to defeat places like North Dakota (“The Nothing Ever Happens Here State”), Kansas (tourist slogan: “Unvaryingly Dull”) and Iowa (road sign at border: “You Were Probably Looking For Ohio”).
Well, I just finished making a batch of my Grandmother’s molasses cookies, and boy, they sure look beautiful, if I do say so myself. Just like I remember.
I have Grammy’s recipe written in her shaky hand on white (now yellow) lined paper. The thing even has Grammy’s molasses stains on it. My mother had it laminated for me years ago, and I’ve used it so much it’s starting to separate along the edges.
(Editor’s note: DownEast.com apologizes in advance for this edition of the Week in Review. At the last moment before deadline, the regular writer of this feature decided that if Paul LePage, the governor of Maine, could abruptly take off for Jamaica for a week’s vacation, so could he.
Sunday, we had a birthday brunch for our Dad, over to Irene and Jimbo’s. She made the “Egg Dish” (there’s only one) which is something our mom used to make involving about a dozen eggs, butter, bread, milk, and cheese. How can you go wrong with that combination, right? You whip it up the night before, and the next morning it bakes up nice and light. I brought along some fruit salad and cranberry nut bread, and Jimbo fried up a whole mess of bacon. As far as we’re concerned, if there ever was a “the food of the Gods,” bacon is it.
Gov. Paul LePage has made the national news again, this time by ordering the Maine Department of Labor to remove a huge mural in its offices that depicted him frolicking nude with nymphs who looked suspiciously like members of the Maine Women’s Lobby.
Oops, sorry. That mural has already come down. The one LePage told his minions to get rid of this week shows the history of the labor movement in the state.
Here’s a question you won’t find on the SAT. If you’re supposed to get eight hours of sleep a night, and there are 24 hours in a day, why do they call it an “18 hour bra”? Shouldn’t it be a “16 hour bra”? Or more realistically, a 14 or 15 hour bra, because don’t you have to subtract the time you spend in the shower, or hanging around in your pj’s? Or are they trying to tell me I’m supposed to wear the 18 hour bra for two, three hours a night, in order to get my money’s worth?
There’s never been a President of the United States from Maine.
George Washington never slept here. As far as historians can determine, he never even took a day trip to the state.