A friend of mine has a saying when she's had too much to drink. She'll say she was "over served." I always like that way of saying it. But, besides wine and alcohol, we're so over served in so many ways. Think about it. The classic coke was originally in a 6.5 oz. bottle. Today, the most common size is a 12 oz. bottle, and though it says "Contains two servings," we know most people will drink the whole bottle.
Coffee is the same way. When you measure cups of coffee for a catering situation, 6 oz. is considered a serving. I sometimes use an "old-fashioned" coffee cup with a saucer and it's noticeable how much less coffee that cup holds.
And what's with those candy bars that say "servings 2-3." Come on, we all know they're intended for one person. It makes it so difficult to make sense of the nutrition labels for fat and calories. I guess, though, if you're even thinking about buying one of those big candy bars, you probably don't know that nutrition labels exist.
This isn't news, I know that, but having just returned from the convenience store trade show with buckets of junk, I find myself reading labels to see if I can justify eating some of it. Four servings in a little sack of bridge mix? I don't think so.
Hello South Beach.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
6:40 Sunset
I'm home after a long eight days in Las Vegas where the color of the sky was neon and the sounds were bells and whistles competing against each other. It was so nice to sit outside last night and see the sky and hear . . nothing. At 6:40 p.m., the sky was still a streak of bright blue with yellow-pink swashes. So beautiful, in fact, that I immediately thought of (and only a few people will appreciate this) paste paper. I snapped a picture with my mind and thought "I'm going to look at the sky each night for a week (or a month) at this very same time and capture the look in watercolors to use as ideas for paper."
So this morning, I drew a square on a small sheet of watercolor paper and tried to remember the sky last night. I put too much yellow down but it didn't matter. It was a good exercise.
But, here's my point. As I put down watercolors it jumped out at me that the sky, with all its blues and yellows, is never green. I'm sure there's something about refraction and prisms of light that explains it but it still was something I'd never thought about.
Tonight, I will have my 6:40 sunset sighting and see what square two looks like.
So good to be home.
So this morning, I drew a square on a small sheet of watercolor paper and tried to remember the sky last night. I put too much yellow down but it didn't matter. It was a good exercise.
But, here's my point. As I put down watercolors it jumped out at me that the sky, with all its blues and yellows, is never green. I'm sure there's something about refraction and prisms of light that explains it but it still was something I'd never thought about.
Tonight, I will have my 6:40 sunset sighting and see what square two looks like.
So good to be home.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Waiting . . .
I'm up early this morning, making a coffee cake for an office birthday, but what's really on my mind is my doctor's appointment this afternoon. I'm both dreading it and looking forward to it. Know what I mean? I want answers, but know that today, a first visit, he'll probably say there are tests to be run and I'll leave still not knowing anything. I keep thinking what if he tells me my problem is stress. What about my lifestyle would I change? Then I think what if he tells me I have stomach cancer or some horrible disease, how will I handle that? All I know right now is something's wrong, has not been right for several months and I'm tired of it.
Right now I'm waiting on my cake to cook. Waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for the coffee to drip. Waiting for answers.
Right now I'm waiting on my cake to cook. Waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for the coffee to drip. Waiting for answers.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The Second Spring
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. -Albert Camus
I love this quote. It reminds me of kids picking up fallen leaves just like seashells. Each one is so pretty and the next one even more so. The colors, the way they dance their way down to the ground. Autumn even has its own scent. Not floral like the first spring, but more woodsy. A scent with some experience to it. Not a fresh scent, more of a used scent. And the more it wafts, the more the leaves dance their way down.
I love this quote. It reminds me of kids picking up fallen leaves just like seashells. Each one is so pretty and the next one even more so. The colors, the way they dance their way down to the ground. Autumn even has its own scent. Not floral like the first spring, but more woodsy. A scent with some experience to it. Not a fresh scent, more of a used scent. And the more it wafts, the more the leaves dance their way down.
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