and Other Scraps
I Feel Guilty for Composting
Instead of Eating
A green testimony to the compulsive resilience of the human spirit.
The Pickle Jar
A collection of poems as I face the threat of disposing either:
b) Thirteen jars of pickle juice, full of onion rings and perfectly good spices that only have a touch of their flavor sucked out by the vinegar. This vital text includes, but is not limited to, musings on mustard seeds, allspice berries, and black peppercorns. Said spices have all gone pale thanks to that vinegar leeching the very life right out of them. But they still have some spunk left, right? Some value lingers, even in remnants, right? As you read, these queries will become yours, too. Or I will refund your money. Unless I am dead.
The Fan Blades
I Wonder Whose
Job That Is
A contemplative guide to contemplating, or considering contemplating, jobs you don’t really want to do right now, or possibly ever, and kind of hate your mate for making necessary, as in, “If she didn’t sweep so much she wouldn’t kick dust up onto the fan blades and they could always keep turning, cutting the air into neat little slices without someone like me, apparently, having to get up on a neck-breaking ladder to clean them.” A stunning treatise on the solace of blame.
How to assess yourself as a sandwich on the menu God writes, and (here’s the helpful part) how much it will cost you to buy a different description! This is a title we’re sure will hit the bestseller list, and nestle right between the food-philosophy hits Make My Own Mayo and Easy-as-Pie Breads for Hard-to-Swallow Lives.
A map for navigating your way through a nonprofit or possibly even very costly phase of life into an immediate and luxurious retirement. Great hostess gift.
Continuing the lessons of All I Ever Learned Was in Kindergarten, this companion kitchen volume features recipes for everything from apple salad to plastic zebra burgers (hint: serve them raw—never microwaved), and comes with a special appendix on how to remove shattered McDonald’s toys from the works of the dishwasher and dispose of them before the children get home from school.