I love Big Lots and I cannot lie.
It’s kind of like Costco. When we started shopping at that giant warehouse store Petey and I had a terrible time making it out without spending the equivalent of the GDP. I’d walk those aisles grabbing products right and left.
To me, the way to tell if something is anything is that it sticks with you.
A week after seeing a movie, do you find yourself thinking about it? When you’re standing in line at the gas station are you wondering how the heroine in your book will extract herself from the seemingly inextricable predicament?
Last year, when Petey was in the hospital more than he was home, it was a pretty awful time with very few bright points.
Groucho Marx once said, “I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.”
Luckily, neither I nor the Durham Co-op is so discriminating.
ight now, as I write this, I am pretty darn gruntled.
We live pretty close to Brier Creek, and the Earth Fare (10341 Moncreiffe Road, Raleigh). I love shopping there because they have all kinds of interesting items; lots of unusual produce, many different cheeses, and more organic products than I knew existed.
When celebrities are interviewed and asked what the best thing about fame is, many of them say all the different people that they meet.
Some things are much harder than you imagine. So hard in fact, that if you knew in advance how difficult they would be, you’d probably pass.
The other night I had the Cooking Channel on. Before or after commercials they’ll sometimes run a quick clip with a simple recipe, or a cooking tip.
So last week Petey and I had a couple of errands to run. It was one of those really cold, windy, raw days. The kind of day where you’d happily stay bundled up in bed sipping hot chocolate if you could. But of course you can’t (or at least I can’t).
A potato salad party. A pork chop party. A buttermilk biscuit party.
I would be much happier to attend any of those parties instead of a pizza party. What is it about pizza that automatically makes it into a party? Even ice cream only rates “social” status. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person on the planet who doesn’t adore pizza.
I’ve written before about how Petey is the perfect spouse for me.
But on the fancy/romance scale, he lands well above Blackbeard, but somewhere below Pepe Le Pew. His heart’s in the right place, but he eschews elaborate trappings—he is absolutely and completely unpretentious.
It’s a bum rap.
Calling a faulty piece of machinery a lemon — it’s wrong and unfair. It’s just blatant anti-lemon propaganda.
So! How’s 1989 going? I know that you think there’s nothing left to learn, but I’m writing to you from 2015 to stop you from making the same mistakes that this Debbie made.
My very favorite line from the original Star Trek series is, “I’m a doctor, not an escalator!”
Hilarious, yes, but I kind of know from where Bones was coming.
When I was first given the opportunity to write this weekly love letter to food and the Bull City, I was completely at sea. I had all kinds of questions.