Congratulations to lostAnnfound, she whom the random number generator loved this week. She gets the EnviTote, a reusable canvas shopping bag that is both rugged and eco-friendly.
Ann: Please respond to my e-mail requesting your mailing address. I’ll put it in the mail before I fly back to Seattle on Thursday.
(I’ve been here just over one month. It seems to have gone so quickly.)
Thanks to all who entered. Be sure to check back on Friday, because it just might be a chocolate sort of day.
Art film, tearjerker, special-effects blockbuster – whatever kind of movie you like, you won’t have to pay for the next two. Or for your beverages, either.
Carol the Long Winded is the winner of the $50 Amazon.com gift card.
My newspaper didn’t show up today. A missing Sunday paper is particularly irksome because it’s top-heavy with sale and coupon supplements. Happily, another paper was delivered about an hour after I called the Seattle Times circulation department.
One of these days there won’t be a paper – and not because someone stole it, or because my carrier’s Saturday night stretched into Sunday morning. It will be because newspapers have gone the way of the dodo.
At that point I’ll be seriously bummed. So will dog lovers, bird owners and the thrift store cashiers who insist on wrapping each cup or plate you buy in sheets of yesterday’s news.
The readers have spoken! Well, they’ve commented. This week’s giveaway is…
Thanks for stopping by after reading “Sick happens: How to prepare for an illness or injury,” my guest post over at Bargaineering.
You can’t win a wrestling match against a Himalayan blackberry vine. Some of the creepers are as thick as my finger, with spines the shape of shark’s teeth. If they want you, they’ll get you – and they’ll hold on.
The only way out is to dance.
Which giveaway would you prefer on Friday: more spa products or a gift card?
In most of the country — not here — summer means sandals and flip-flops. We’ve still got a month or more of naked toes. That’s why you need this week’s giveaway.
I recently attended a barbecue that was wryly dubbed “Grill, baby, grill!” by its hosts. As I was leaving they gave me a small sack of newly cut rhubarb. Alaskans are nuts about the stuff. In the old days, rhubarb was the first fresh food of the year. To the pioneers it must have tasted positively ambrosial after a winter of sourdough bread and boiled beans.
Modern-day sourdoughs can get all the fresh produce they want at Costco, yet they maintain an ancestral fondness for this vegetable that masquerades as a fruit. Even people who don’t eat it grow it, probably because it takes no horticultural talent at all. Stick a rhubarb root into dry cat litter and by morning you’ll have enough stalks to bake a pie. (Stick it in used cat litter and you’ll have enough for two pies.)