My apologies for bringing up the Russian Spy Caper again, but I can’t seem to get it off my mind.
There is one person who has impressed me more than anyone else in this whole sorry tale, and that’s a fifteen year old neighbor of espionage suspect Cynthia Murphy, a person identified in the New York Times as Jessie Gugig. Ms Gugig was interviewed for an early online version of the Times story and was quoted saying she could not believe the charges against her neighbors, Ms. Murphy especially.
“They couldn’t have been spies. Look what she did with the hydrangeas.”
These two sentences perfectly capture the absurdity of this situation. There is nothing to add. I believe Ms. Gugig’s quote will be repeated whenever this story is mentioned, today, in the next weeks and months, and one hundred years from now. It will live forever, and when you are fifteen years old this is a great accomplishment. Most people lack the skill and the opportunity to create such a verbal landmark. Jessie Gugig made the most of her moment.
Some will point to the quote as an illustration of the simple minded cluelessness of the Average American Suburban Russian Spy Neighbor. But here’s an interesting detail … the Times edited later editions of the story to present the quote this way …
“They couldn’t have been spies,” she said jokingly. “Look what she did with the hydrangeas.”
Here the Newspaper of Record is going out of its way to tell us that Jessie Gugig is no simpleton. She didn’t just say the thing about the hydrangeas. She said it “jokingly“. She saw the craziness and packaged it up for us – on purpose. I’m impressed with Ms. Gugig’s powers of observation, her summarizing skill and her humorous boldness.
I expect great things from her.
For some inexplicable reason, the hydrangea quote made me want to express the same thought less gracefully, using the least elegant of all poetical forms – the limerick.
A gardener arrested for spying
Missed detection without even trying.
Every flower she grew
Blossomed red, white or blue.
Her heroic Hydrangeas flying!
Please feel free to add your own limerick, or your favorite inspirationally absurd quote. Or you could talk about beautiful hydrangeas, and what they can tell us about their gardener.
Trail Baboon 
Good morning, All – if it’s cleverness today, i’m out.
Dale, you continue to amaze.
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My hydrangea is emblematic of my approach to gardening. It has nice big white blooms even though I give it minimal care – although I did prop up some of the heavy flowers last weekend after all the rain. Things that flourish without too much input from me are my favorites (hence all the hostas and 10 kinds of lilies in my yard).
Said hydrangea is planted next to the fence that separates my yard from the neighbors driveway. Over the years, it has decided it likes both sides of the fence and blossoms wildly in all directions, unlike all of my neighbors’ landscaping which is exact, neat and orderly. However neighbor has never taken me up on my annual offers to trim it back on her side.
Unfortunately, now I’m worried about teenager, who is same age as Jessie Gugig. She has never shown too much interest in gardening, but this year at our first foray to the garden center, she asked if we could put a blue hydrangea in the yard somewhere. Is there some kind of teenager/hydrangea conspiracy going on????
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What exactly DID she do with the hydrangeas? While hydrangeas come in white and -with effort on our side of the Mississippi- blue, I have no knowledge of them coming in any other color than “godless, commie Pinko”! (with thanks to Archie Bunker). Even if she got out some spray-paint, I remind you, gentle readers–the Russian flag is also red, white and blue. Where does it end????
Does anyone else remember a Masterpiece Theatre titled “Sleepers”, about 2 Russian agents who were trained to be British (one blue collar, one an executive)-planted, and then mostly forgotten for years, until one night, the radio transmitter on the roof starts to receive signals. Brilliant, but was it fiction?
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Rise and Log on Babooners!
Whew. So glad to be out of internet exile and back to my morning routine browsing the news and blogs. We even had a miracle healing from Comcast after complaining loudly to someone who seemed to have more authority than the peons in Customer Service regarding their internet service.
Hydrangeas are a lovely topic. (It’s too early for a limerick but I’ll work on it as the day goes on. When the dog and I log our 3 miles something may come to me. Do you do the writing in the a.m. Dale?) Meanwhile, hydrangeas bring my Pipestone Grandma to mind. She had many of her “snowball plants” around her house there. As little kids we found them pretty fascinating. We also used to tease her about being a “living yard butt” in her flower garden and told her she did not even need one of the wooden stand-ups in her yard because she was the real thing when she weeded. Now guess who does the same thing and does not care what she looks like–Yes, me. Grandchild #21 out of 39. I just don’t wear a dress. But we have two rows of hydrangeas on the East and South sides of the house under the big shade trees.
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so, you weed naked?
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No of course not: I wear my bloomers without the dress!
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Oh I do hope you are also wearing a nice hat to keep the sun off.
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Oh, and has anyone else noticed the conspicuous absence of DONNA from this discussion?
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Hmmmmmmmm
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Good Morning to All.
Hydrangeas? They have such large blooms and the pink and blue or purple ones are so showy that I always think they look artificial because a real flower wouldn’t be so big with such gaudy colors. Another thing about them is that the color of the flower is related to the acidy of the soil. In acid soils the flowers are blue or purple, in neutral soils they are creamy colored and in alkaline soils they are pink. Those pinko spys were probaly keeping their hydrangeas from showing their pinkness by treating their soil with acid.
I supose sherrilee could change her hydrangeas to blue to satisfy her teenager by treating the soil with sulfur to make it more acidic which would causes the flower to become blue. I guess the commies could put on a fake show of being all American by using soil treatments to get a mixture of red, white, and blue hydrangeas. They would look very American with a display of big, almost artifcial looking, display of red, white, and blue flowers.
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The first absurd quote that leapt to mind (though I’m not sure it qualifies as inspirational) is:
It’s nice to be nice to the nice.- Maj. Frank Burns.
As for flowers, especially hydrangeas, that’s my wife’s department. I’m just the lawn guy.
Chris in Owatonna
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Chris in Owatonna, thanks for remembering Major Burns! What a great character within all things absurd.
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I am eagerly anticipating our Annabelle hydrangeas starting to bloom in tandem with some blue delphiniums planted right along side. It’s a beautiful sight. We also have Little lamb hydrangeas. The flower clusters are shaped like lamb tails. Our soil is too alkaline for colored hydrangeas.
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Greetings! I’m not a gardener, so I’m not sure what hydrangeas are. Not sure how hydrangeas are a clue to being spies. Not sure how to make this into a clever limerick at this early hour. All I know is my oldest son, the Marine, is home for 8 days and we’re going to the beach for a picnic today. Catch you all later!
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Have fun! And as a marine your son should be able to TELL you how hydrangeas and spies are related!
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Oh, congrats Joanne!
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The walk stimulated creativity. And I’m not much of a poet, so this limerick will be a rare thing. I could not work hydrangeas into it though. Maybe a second verse will emerge later.
My neighbor–the spy
We’ve dubbed her Crabby Pants Jane.
As a neighbor she’s really a pain.
The hostile paranoia
Can really annoy ya;
And a sweet temper she can’t even feign.
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very nice………..
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Our neighbor the spy–Part II
The drive to work produced this:
Neath the hydrangea she planted in her forest
she lies, pretending to ignore us;
What I mean to imply
Is that she is really a spy
Who reports all our secrets to Boris.
Now I’ve got to get off this limerick thing and get to work. I”ll distract myself with a donut–old fashioned sour cream from Lunds, then some coffee. While I watch rerun TV.
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Good one, Jacque!
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So, keeping in mind the pronunciation of the letters “er” in Maine, I offer the following limerick:
A lass to whom spies were no stranger
Insisted “My neighbor’s no danger.
“I’ve gotta believe
“She’ll get a reprieve.
“Just look what she did with hydrangea!”
And, while I’m at it, a pox on Dale’s house for inviting me to spend the rest of my day inventing more limericks. To follow the day spent thinking about MyLlife as a Television Show. What’s next, Dale? Tom Swifties??? Sheesh! You might as well be handing out crack cocaine!
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Or another day of donuts. That was a killer.
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OK, speaking of the donuts, I finally caught up on reading back “issues” and have to say it’s an honor to be in a community that knows about both Bloedow’s Bakery in Winona, and the Maid-Rite hamburger joints in Iowa. I once lived 2 blocks from Bloedow’s and I’m here to tell you there’s not a better macaroon on the planet, not to mention their glazed donuts.
And there’s still a Maid-Rite in Marshalltown, but they may not be around long because of some new rule about steamed loose meat needing special new equipment… Arrggggg.
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I’m thinkin we already did Tom Swifties… ?
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I missed them? I missed them?????
Well, then you force me to insert my two for the day:
“That’s no spy; that’s my neighbor,” said Tom, spookily.
“She can’t be a spy; look at the colors of the hydrangea’s she’s coaxed from her soil!” said Tom, acidly….
(Stop groaning, Cynthia)
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Oh my!
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I’m groaning at the Tom Swifties below, Lisa. I still think puns are a higher form of humor.
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i don’t know why i don’t like hydrangias, i have remarked and gotten flack for my lack of enthusaim for the bush but i simply don’t like them. it surprises a bit because i can’t think of another plant or flower i dislike but so be it.
the lady in new york was found
to grow large white and blue flowers quite round
turned out shes a commie
sent back to a red mommy
in cuffs and leg irons shes bound
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It’s OK Tim… if everybody liked everything, life would be a little dull, don’t you think?
I have lots of plants that I don’t like, but almost all of them fall into the “ground cover” category. Although I suppose my favorites, hosta and lilies, are probably typically considered ground cover as well.
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i forgot about ground covers. i don’t like how it creeps but i do like most of the plants except for the ones that cover my dogs with stickers in the fall
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I pity the fool who don’t like the hydrangea.
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Greetings all!
Monday afternoon we discovered that it was necessary for U.S. Customs to receive 24 hours notice before vehicle exportation. So we took a day off of driving to enjoyed the in-laws’ beautiful garden (no hydrangeas though), wildflowers (boy I had no idea them daisies smelt so stinky) — and paid visits to Ironworld (now renamed “Minnesota Discovery Center”).
We’ll make a run for the border after breakfast today and try exporting/importing ourselves and our worldly belongings tomorrow.
Jim — I had no idea about the pH influencing the blooms. I’ve seen green hydrangeas (which remind me of broccoli, the white ones remind me of cauliflower).
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Did I type 24 hours? I meant 72 hours!
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Hope you enjoyed IronWorld. Did you take the train ride?
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sherrilee — we arrived at 3:15, which was 15 minutes after the trolley left… Oh well. Saw it go from across the street where we were lunching.
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Is that the IronWorld where you take a one-way train car into an old iron mine? Very baaaad idea if you have even slight claustrophobia. I did that once for a 45-60 minute tour and I thought I was going to die! My oldest son was just 5 at the time, and I made him hold my hand the whole time I was so panicked.
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The trolley/train is a different tour than the mining tour. (I also am not good w/ caves and such.) The trolley is an open air scenery tour that highlights some of the flora/fauna of the iron range.
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There are some other kinds of hydrangeas that probably don’t have a response in color to pH according to the information I found. I don’t know about those, but I did know about the one that responds to pH. I prefer flowers that have a wild flower look. I can’t image a hydrangea fitting into a native plant setting.
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best of luck in the new location. i hope canada works well for you. i would never have guessed there was a time issue with vehicles. thats pretty funny unless of course you are the one who gets to wait 72 hours. did you see the worlds largest hockey stick and the worlds lamest hall of fame(hockey hall of fame)? i think they are in eveleth. if you pass though on you way to canada you could tell your new canuck neighbors and they would know you were alright. not commies for sure eh?
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Thanks tim! Have driven by the HHoF in years past, but I think we took a different route this time, missed seeing it. Always thought it was rather a remote location for such a grand title. Same goes for “MN Discovery Center” — it’ll always be Ironworld to us.
Husband got good pictures of the Sami sod hut and homesteader cabins on the Ironworld grounds: hopefully some inspiration for a cabin in French River territory in the future.
Heading east for a possibly last Target run at Virginia now. There is a riot of wildflowers along the roads: hawkweed and lupins and others I can’t identify. And there is a guy mowing the medians to make hay. Nothing to waste!
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We loved living in Canada during graduate school. Our son was born in Winnipeg and we try to get back to some part of the country every summer. We are going to a Suzuki string institute in Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario in August with a side trip to Montreal.
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love those rockies banff and jasper are two of my favorite places.
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Good morning Babooners!
Dale has it exactly right. This is beyond absurd.
While spy Richard Murphy wore rumpled blue jeans and baseball caps, his wife raised suspicion with her 67-year-old neighbor because she couldn’t understand how Mrs. Murphy “managed to get her flowers looking so good.”
I blushed when I read that spies Lezaro and Pelaez “doted on their schnauzers.” Lordy, does that sound kinky, but then I remembered schnauzers are just yappy little dogs, so this turns out be just more suburban deep cover stuff. It is a little scary when you realize that Russian spy handlers are so sophisticated they can instruct their spies to buy large ugly sofas and to cover their fridges with silly notes held up by magnets.
Surveillance of the Lezaro and Pelaez Yonkers home revealed “the irregular electronic clicking sounds associated with the receipt of coded radio transmissions,” according to federal court papers. Well, yes, that . . . or maybe they had the AT&T cell phone plan, rated worst in the nation.
Has anyone seen photos of spy Anna Champman? Anna is accused of having a “masters in education and a Victoria Secrets body.” If this is the kind of spy Putin wants to send us, I think we should help him fund the program.
One spy was supposed to get a fake passport by meeting a contact who would hold a Time magazine (anybody still holding a Time magazine these days is surely a spy) and who would respond to the line, “Excuse me, but didn’t we meet in Malta last year?” I somehow remembered the mysterious Russian who ran into Dan Rather and demanded to know, “What is the frequency, Kenneth?” Truth is always wilder than fiction.
In the end, it looks like Russia spent several million dollars training spies how to use Visa cards and cook on Weber grills.
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they spend their tax dollars as poorly as we do.
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Here’s my haiku:
How can they be spies?
Look at the hydrangeas bloom
All blue, white and pink.
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very nice elaine
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Those of us who party hearty after 5 PM on Trail Baboon have been known to take OT liberties. I have a recipe for potato salad tucked near the end of yesterday’s blog, in case someone is interested. Just the sort of pick-me-up you want after a long afternoon of naked hydrangea weeding.
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Thank you for this heads up, Steve! Not only did it net me a great p.s. recipe, it also gave me Tim’s link to the brick oven. Be still my heart; perhaps a bread oven is not a complete pipe dream! (Okay, maybe it still is; I’m the woman who screwed her towel bar into the bathroom’s pocket door. Chances of me taking 100 bricks and making anything other than a pile out of them are slender.)
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Here’s a link to North House Folk School in Grand Marais. They give a class on building brick ovens – it’s really pretty cool.
http://www.northhouse.org/courses/courses/course.cfm/cid/66
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I just looked at the recipe, then read a few of the subsequent quotes. I am very concerned about the secret ingredients in the potato salad–nano chips in it. Are these like POTATO chips? OR were these chips made in Russia? What, sir, is your intention for this potato salad. Perhaps this is a spy vehicle. HMMMMM.
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Yeah, I know about that North House class. That’s a serious oven. Serious time, serious money.
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You’re all too funny today.
You know, I hadn’t heard a thing about these so called ‘spies’ until I read it on here yesterday. Then saw it in the Mpls paper yesterday but still minus the detail that Dale has… hmmm, I’m starting to wonder why Dale knows all this before the rest of us, hm?
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I have a sneaking suspicion that Dale is a devotee of the New York Times.
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Steve – take a look at bing.com today!
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That lizardy thing? Pretty wild!
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I don’t have too many loyalties to search engines, but I do have bing.com set as my home page because I like the pictures!
I would not want to meet this lizard in a dark alley however!
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Cool lizard!
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I may manage a poem later, but here’s my favorite quote ABOUT absurdity:
“Normal” is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work, and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for, in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house that you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.
I just found this Yogi Berra quote by googling:
“You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you are going, because you might not get there. “
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Because of our tech issues I am trying being on for a bit and see what this does to our phone link problem.
This reminds me of “Hopscotch,” a fun spy spoof, but not the normal kind of spy spoof. Walter Matthau and that good Minnesotan and Morning Show guest and lover, Ned Beatty. Matthau gets fired as a CIA bureau chief by Beatty and decides to write a tell-all book so now he has every spy agency in the word after him. Sam Waterston has the best line in the movie “And the bastard better stay dead.”
Also sort of reminds me of the coneheads.
It sounds to me like the spies were trying not to get caught by us and not get caught not spying by the Russians. My exbrother used to have the highest security clearance there is because of the messages he coded and decoded in the navy and then in the State Department. For a year or so he was the personal communications person for Dean Rusk in the 60’s. For 20 years after he left, the CIA tracked his every move overseas for his private business job. He would only briefly hint at some of the absurditites of their fears and how they would shadow him. Maybe this is the source of hid paranoia.
A different absurd line: I grew up at the end of a dirt road, which people often thought was “the back road to Duluth.” One evening at supper we heard a car in our front yard. Looked and saw it was someone lost and assumed they would leave. 5 minutes later there was knock at the door. A women asked, “Do I have to turn around?”
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Clyde — Hopscotch is one of my very favorite “comfort” movies. I’ve probably watched it 50 times. My favorite line is “Nyet Tovarich, not interested. Money is too expensive to be earned that way.” Yikes… maybe the Russians have been infiltrating MY mind all these years!
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Clyde — if you like that one, you surely like “Charley Varrick.” It has much the same feel.
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Seen them both. Hopscotch I think of as a comedy and Varrick as a tragedy. I once heard Mathau say that Varrick is the movie he is the most proud of. I like them both for different reasons.
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Also, Steve, I will try to remember to take a good pix of the round when I go to the mall tonight. I think also there is aboard explaining its history. Have not gotten back to your book but will. Life intrudes.
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I love ‘Sneakers’ and ‘Three Days of the Condor.’ Great stuff!
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Love Three Days of the Condor. One of my favorites. Great line, spoken by the CIA guy to Robert Redford as he’s standing outside the NYT headquarters in NY: “When we run out of oil (or maybe it was water), do you think people (Americans) are going to care how we get it for them?”
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I also like Sneakers and 3 Days quite a bit. I do seem to be drawn to movies that I call “Robin Hood” movies. One person or small band fighting against the big, bad system.
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Steve, thanks for reminding us of that fabulous song “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?” Few more absurd (and disturbing for Dan Rather of course) stories than that one.
Dale, you are beyond brilliant for raising up Jessie this morning. Seeing the absurd is a trait I greatly appreciate.
And I noticed hydrangeas everywhere on my way to work this a.m.
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Just ran a bunch of errands over lunch and also was noticing all the hydrangeas in a big way!
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This talk of spies made me think of the posting where someone thought Dale had gotten another radio job. Clearly a case of mistaken identity. But what if Dale had an evil twin out there? What would the twin be doing?
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While medical bills have emptied my purses,
And makes me erupt in loud curses,
To say this I’m spurred:
I find it absurd,
That we cannot help out the nurses.
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An evil twin? Surely not.
Breakfast discussion at our unit this morning focussed the technology camoflaging properties of hydrangeas (antennae and all those little receiver saucers, not to mention the possibilities for camera concealment) and the thing we have all been missing: The Space Alien Goats are just using the Russians in their bid for total world domination (cue up Muffy’s Master Plan for World Domination in your heads). Once they know the inner workings of all our defenses, they will turn on their Russian “allies” and that, my friends, will be that.
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Makes complete sense to me–must be an Iowa school of thought.
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And now I can’t get the cat …..World Domination” song out of my head! Thanks a lot, Catherine.
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My favourite absurdist is George Bernard Shaw, who produced all kinds of gems such as “My way of joking is telling the truth; that is the funniest joke in the world.”
tim — just whizzed past Eveleth! Which reminds me that we have to check out the Greyhound museum one day.
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Don’t bother. I used to have an office in Eveleth.
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Stepping out of the absurd for a monent into the wonderful: I was just told the word benign.
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Wonderful, Clyde. I can almost hear the sigh of relief.
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It’s a good word, savor it.
So very glad for you.
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Good news, Clyde! That really is wonderful!
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What a sweet word! That’s great news!
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Clyde that is the best word you can hear at the doctor’s office! So glad. Enjoy this gorgeous summer evening.
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Benign is one of those words that sounds like what it means – light, breezy, easy on the mouth, and peaceful. Yay for benign, Clyde!
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Thank you. It was a fairly hard path to get to that and it was completely unexpected by everyone.
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Clyde, the whole trail breathes with you!
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Clyde — what a relief for you! So glad to hear it.
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yippeee!!
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I think I also just saw Blevins and Rhonda clapping their hands in your honor, Clyde.
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Go Clyde. Cancer is a journey no one wants! B9B9B9B9B9B9B9B9B9
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Thank you all so much.
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at least they didn’t make you wait 6 weeks for the results
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There once was a talent named Dale
Who could rhyme on and on without fail
When the story of the Rusian spies
Of him the Times did apprise
He left us all laughing on the trail
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Hi, this is Jessie Gugig. Yeah, I don’t know if you were expecting to hear from me at all, but here I am. Wow, just, wow. You just summed up exactly what happened to us on Monday night after the media circus came through. I said it as a joke to a small group of paper reporters, not thinking it would go anywhere big, since I said a bunch of other things along the same lines which it feels corny to try and write out again. Later, my mother got a call from our local newspaper asking who had spelled my name wrong; the local news, or the New York Times? Cue incredulous disbelief from my mother when the local reporter directs her to the internet. Now, I had no idea this was going on when it happened, but my mother went to the Times right away and gets my name corrected by virtue of being the mother of a minor. While this is going on, I get my own call from a friend; did I know that the Times misspelled my name? No, I did not. After that, we called the news desk at 9:30 and went through about 5 layers of people including the security desk in order to talk to the foreign news editor to get my name corrected (which they did done immediately, to their credit), and then to insert “jokingly,” which at first they really didn’t want to do. They said that this was the “money quote,” that it was the quote that was going to be reprinted all over the globe. And now it is, so I guess they were right in the end, as I seem to have been translated in several languages as of this morning. I wound up pleading with the foreign news editor, explaining that people who did not know me would simply think that I was incredibly stupid or just more of suburbia, here to look ridiculous for the cameras. The editor told us that the quote was going to be like a litmus test for intelligence; I responded that when it’s a litmus test that 90% of everyone in the planet is certainly going to fail and if only a 10% margin of readers are going to understand the quote’s meaning, then they’re doing it wrong. After the no small amount of brouhaha and near-tears on my part, the foreign editor very kindly agreed to humor me, even though he said he had to go up 2 editors higher to make that change. They called back just before 11:30 pm and said it was changed. This is the point where I started crying for real. Sure enough, when it went to print, it was the way I wanted. Thank you again to the New York Times for being so kind to me. And many thank you to you for this nice post and all the limericks. I hope you don’t mind; I’m an aspiring writer, so I made my own:
Glasnost? What Glasnost? The teenager said,
Russians from her house, saw their flower bed
Then the guys-in-ties came
Neighbors were mostly inane
And the girl is now hiding her head.
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How lovely to hear from you! How did you find us?
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Jesse, how fun that you joined the conversation! I love the fact that you made them add “jokingly” and appreciate knowing the great story behind the story. And nice limerick 😉
Dale and all you regulars, I’m trying to catch up reading a couple of weeks’ worth of posts, after some some travels and lots of work. Y’all outdo yourselves each successive day. Even though I mostly just lurk, this is my favorite spot on the whole internet. Thanks for the ongoing intelligent wit and general humanity.
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Well I don’t know if this a real Jessie or a clever imposter but either way it’s making my night more entertaining!
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Wow, in two ways. That you are here and you’re writing. As a long-time high school writing teacher, now retired, I must tell you that your writing is astoundingly mature.
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HS writing teacher writes you’re for your? Glad I’m retired.
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Jessie, I’m sorry darling, but all this spy talk has made me cynical. It is pretty freakin’ amazing that you are here writing us like that. A 15-year-old who can toss off a reference to glasnost? Hmmmmm. Could you have had help writing this? A simple ad on the internet could have led you to some poor downsized writer trying to earn a few rubles ghost-writing for illiterate teenaged media celebrities. There are some mighty fine writers like that for hire cheap.
I know what I suspect and I suspect what I know.
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I’m not sure what to think anymore … what are you trying to say here, Steve? My brain is fried from being at the beach and then going to karate.
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I think Steve is as amazed as all of us to hear from Ms Gugig. I think he is slightly suspicious of Dale and what machinations he may have engaged in to alert her to Trail Baboon. I also think he is very impressed by Ms Gugig, of whom we all must be impressed. There-I have exhausted all my inference. How on earth do we explain to all those who may be alerted to this blog who we are and why we are are a community? It was hard enough to explain why we were so committed to Radio Heartland. How do we explain ourselves now?
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I’m also surprised that a fine writer like Steve can be had for cheap. ;~)
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Renee – seriously, though — I don’t have a clue how to explain to folks about RH or this blog, but I appreciate all the wonderful and fascinating folks that do show up and contribute. It’s been quite the ride.
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Amen, Sister!
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OK – I’m going to steal Steve’s idea of a late night stealth recipe that’s really healthy. I know, I know — it’s tough to beat a good potato salad, but on the continuum of not healthy to really healthy this one is quite healthy, hi-fiber, colorful and tasty. No mayo, sour cream or dairy to raise suspicions after a couple hours on picnic table, either. Not to take away from Steve’s great recipe — just another option.
I prefer quinoa (keen-wah) as it cooks quick and is highly nutritious, but any whole grain will do.
SOUTHWESTERN SALAD
2 cups cooked whole grain (quinoa, brown rice, barley, bulgur, etc.)
1 15-oz can black beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups frozen corn kernels
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
1/4 cup white wine vinegar, or to taste
1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves
1 minced jalapeno pepper, or cayenne to taste (I leave this out – don’t like spicy)
1 tsp mild chili powder
Combine all ingredients. Let stand or refrigerate 1 hr before serving. Keeps for days.
Enjoy Babooners! I had a nap after beach and before karate — just had my bath, so I’m feeling a bit kicky!
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Hey, great Joanne! That sounds delicious.
And we might have a new tradition going here.
Finally, let me say you are so sweet, but I can be bought SO cheaply!
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I think a wonderful salad recipe rounds out the evening perfectly. I am going try this recipe on Saturday.
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Jessie’s grandmother checking in with this fabulous group. “Monat” is what she and her brother call me instead of “grandma” or some other term for my familial status with them.
First of all, yes indeed it was the real Jessie who posted that note to the group. Second, you are the only group or news outlet she’s responded to. Third, she is brilliant, funny, and a voracious reader. She needed no help at all to come up with the word “Glasnost.” In fact, Monday night when her teenage angst was about a 6 on the Richter scale, she kept using the word “vapid.” OMG = my BFF’s will know I was kidding, but everyone else is going to think I’m vadid!!!! Thus, the Newspaper of Record was persuaded to revise the original version. It was helpful that her mother is a lawyer and pointed out to the editor that he’d quoted a minor and used her name (not spelled correctly in the first version that went to print) without asking permission.
And finally, all of us who love her are doing Internet searches to see how many times she’s been mentioned in connection with the nest of suburban spies living in her neighborhood. On Monday night, there were just 6 references Now there are thousands, including one from Vietnam and at least one from Germany. All the writing unintelligible to us, except the words “Jessie Gugig” It’s a cheap shot that’s being heard around the world and we are beyond proud of her. We found your delicious group by a simple search.
And what a great group you are. Love the poetry, enjoying the recipes, and love the word “benign.” We want to meet you for doughnuts one day. Renne, I don’t think you need to explain the group at all. It is what it is, and obviously you have lovely ties that bind.
Oh = feed your hydrangeas lime and water them with a fertilizer high in phosphorus, and they will turn pink. Give them coffee grounds and water with a fertilizer low in phosphorus, and they should turn blue. It’s all about pH levels. I’m imagining a fine old=fashioned hardware store in your town where everybody knows your name. Ask your friends at your hardware store to tell you which fertilizers are high (or low) in phosphorus.
Happy Thursday to all of you.
Susan
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Monat… any relation to Susan Monat who raises alpacas in MA?
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Это Владимир Путин письменной форме, и до сих пор я только скрываться – и очень нравился этот блог, – но я должен отрицать какую-либо связь на этот пост империалистами капиталистических Джесси Guggig. Или это Джесси Вентура?
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