If you know me you know I hate hate hate using disposable plastic cutlery. It’s really hard for me to enjoy dining at the Whole Foods hot food bar knowing it means throwing a plastic fork into the garbage. And yet, I enjoy dining at the Whole Foods hot food bar on an almost daily basis. Quite the pickle!
Well, a few years ago, for reasons I will not go into, I was in an Eddie Bauer store when I stumbled upon a delightful red plastic spork made by a company called Light My Fire. I was very excited because it was an aesthetically-pleasing spork and just the right size to keep on my person at all times. My Whole Foods hot bar conundrum was solved! For the past few years I have kept that spork in my bag or vehicle and used it again and again and again whenever I eat takeout or salad bar or soup on the go or etc etc. Think of how many plastic forks and spoons are not floating in the ocean right now because spork and I found each other.
The only problem was that sometimes I would accidentally leave spork at home. I would bring my backpack instead of my bag, or drive Mr. Truck instead of Mr. Car, and would find myself sporkless.
Genius that I am, I recently googled “light my fire spork” and lo, they sell them all over the place! Including at my local REI. Given the hours I have spent at REI examining all the outdoor gear I don’t need, it’s amazing that I never stumbled upon the sporks on my own, without the aid of Google.
Anyhow, I just purchased a 4 pack of sporks which means I now have 5 sporks and I am so excited! I shall keep one in my bag, one in my backpack, 2 in Mr. Car, and 1 in Mr. Truck. And if I am ever dining with a friend I will give away one of my sporks (the green one first, I hate green) to do my part in regards to encouraging others to be environmentally friendly.
I urge you to consider purchasing a spork or 4 of your own.
File under things I wish I had known prior to late August 2011: there are really nice beaches on Lake Erie. I drove up to Presque Isle to check out the swimming situation and was totally surprised to find numerous very picturesque, serene beaches, complete with sand and seagulls. Well, I don’t know if the technically qualify as seagulls since it was not technically the sea, but you know what I mean. At any rate, it was lovely.
On the way home I had one of those experiences that I have all the time that no one else seems to have. I stopped at Burger King (my life has gotten so much more exciting since I learned they have veggie burgers) and after I placed my order I had the following conversation with the counter girl:
Her: What do you do for work?
Me: Euh…I do IT stuff.
Her: Do you like it?
Me: Euh…no not really but you know, I am lucky to have a job so I should not complain.
Her: Well what do you want to do, what’s your dream?
Me: Euh…I don’t really have any dreams, I am directionless and a bum.
Her: [Pauses to take order through drive-through headphone thing]
Me: Why do you ask?
Her: You just look like someone who would do something really interesting.
I felt really lame for probably letting her down and not having a good answer to her question. Then I wondered if the universe had put her there to try and give me some sort of message. But what would the message be? Make an effort to find a more interesting line of work? Accept that what you do is interesting? At least to a Burger King employee? Frequent Burger King less?
Also they had really good fountain soda at this particular Burger King location.
This is a painting titled “The Field” by T. Peters. It was painted in 1987. I know this because it is written on the back of the canvas, in pen. I think it is a very beautiful painting. I bought it from an old woman (T. Peters, I assume) in New York City. She had a small display set up along the wall that divides Central Park from 5th Avenue. Assuming I purchased it the same year it was painted, I would have been 10 or 11. I don’t know how old the old woman was, but I guess I wanted to encourage her artistic endeavors. She told me that the building in the painting is not a house, but a shed, because it does not have any windows. The painting had a white mat around it and instead of having a piece of glass or plastic protecting its front, it was covered carefully in saran wrap. For many years, it hung on the wall next to my bed. Just recently I had a new, proper mat cut for it and framed it in a proper frame. It is hanging by my bed again.
Sadly, the Waynesboro wildlife center just called to tell me that Hebron, the little Easter bat, passed away this morning. Apparently he was too cold and dehydrated to make it. Poor Hebron. Perhaps one day he will rise again since he was, after all, an Easter bat.
Today, Hayley and Liz and I went to the Hebron Baptist Church for Easter services. Before the service started I found a small brown bat lying in the parking lot. It was freezing cold out and at first I thougth he was dead, but then I noticed he was breathing. Hayley scooped him up with a piece of plastic and deposited him in an old Ugg shoe box that Liz had in her car (ha ha, Liz has Uggs). After church, we took the bat to the wildlife center in Waynesboro. They said he seemed OK and that they would fatten him up and then release him. Apprently, the weather we are having (really warm out and then suddenly really cold) causes a lot of problems for bats, because they unhibernate, innocently enjoy the high temperatures, and then turn into little bat popsicles when the temperature unexpectedly drops. Poor bats.
I have named the bat Hebron.
Interestingly, or not, depending on your point of view, Hebron is not the first bat I have found.
Once when I was little I was walking in Central Park with my mom and I saw a small brown bat lying on the ground. He seemed hurt and we did not know what to do. My mom wanted to kill him, because she thought he was suffering, but by this time a small crowd had gathered and they were against any type of bat murder. It was decided that my mom and I would stay with the bat while another man went to find a park ranger. As we were sitting there, watching the bat, he suddenly got up, scampered a few feet, and then flew away. We were quite happy at this turn of events, but soon grew concerened that when the man and the park ranger returned, they would think we had killed the bat against their wishes. We waited a while but soon became bored (because there was no longer a bat to look at) and wanted to leave. So, we left a note on the ground that said “Mr., the bat flew away.” I think we also drew a picture of a flying bat.
I have no idea if the man ever returned and found that note, but if he did, I hope he believed it.
Today I was talking with my friend Mary, and we were lamenting the fact that we did not make it out west this year on our Annual National Parks Tour. She suggested that next year we go to Yosemite, and then she sent me this awesome email:
“fyi, this is what we would look like in yosemite. only older, wiser and hotter. we should totally plan on going next year.”
Here is what we might look like in some other places we’ve never been. Many thanks to Mary for her mad skills with the photoshop.