We spent the morning doing a serious spring-cleaning (yeah, 6 months behind, as always) of our bedroom, in hopes that banishing the dust bunnies would reduce if not eliminate the sore throat/stuffed nose/headaches we feel every morning.
We wiped down all the surfaces, vacuumed the walls and ceilings, and are in the process of washing ALL the linens, including the curtains. They are stretch velvet, so let's hope they are washer/dryer appropriate.
Why is it that cleaning is primarily a relocation of junk from one place to another? I have to clean the spare room when I get home: it's full of the stuff from the bedroom.
Later we're going...SHOPPING!!! A couple of organizational things to provide storage, and maybe some new clothes. B is a total clothes-horse, but I am a minimalist. Lately, a totally dowdy and frumpy minimalist, I'm feeling. It's shallow, I know: but clothes can really make you feel better about yourself. I realized in Poland how peculiar and specifically Midwestern is the jeans/sweatshirt "ensemble." Comfy, yes, but I think I can do better.
Mom's Apple-Honey Cake
Line a buttered baking dish (she uses 9x9) with sliced, peeled apples. Single layer minimum, more if you like.
Cover fruit with a sprinkling of 1/2 C sugar and a drizzle of 3 T honey. (I think you don't need anywhere near this much sugar, but these old recipes are heavy on the sweetness.)
Make a batter* of:
1 T shortening
1/2 C sugar
1 egg, beaten
1/2 C milk
1 level C sifted flour (I never sift; do you?)
1 1/2 t baking powder
pinch salt
1 t vanilla.
Pour the batter over the fruit. Bake in moderate oven (350) 40 min or until toothpick in middle of cake comes out clean.
Serve with whipped cream. Yum!
*you can also substitute a cake mix made per package directions (egads!) for the batter. In that case you can definitely reduce the sugar; even Mom says so.
Yeah, I'm ranting about stupid shit while the world goes to hell, but how about this:
A phenom we've observed lately is in-your-face planned obsolescence. (Man, there's a word I didn't know how to spell.) You buy a relatively inexpensive version of an item, and they ask you if you want the service contract (I am NOT talking about refrigerators or washing machines here). You say no, and then 2 months, or 12 months later, the cheap piece of crap breaks.
You take it back to the store of origin, maybe you even have your receipt. You expect satisfaction because a) this is Minnesota, the home of MN Nice; b) stores usually are pretty responsive to implied threats of "I'll tell everyone you don't care about your customers; and c) the 12-year-olds who assistant-manage such establishments don't really care how many refunds/returns/replacements they hand out; it's not like it's THEIR money.
YOU GET NO SATISFACTION. What gives?
I will now name names. Exhibit 1. Buy a cheap office chair at Office Max. Less than 2 months later, chair falls apart so severely that someone in this household falls on the floor. Return to store. "oh, no service contract? Sorry, can't help you." (Service contract???? For a chair?????) B. has to BEG to get them to try to find the name of the manufacturer. Three trips later and a couple of calls to the manufacturer (no, you can't get replacement parts), it is clear that the new paradigm is that the lower end of products are COMPLETE CRAP and if you want to buy them, you might as well factor in the service contract as well, since otherwise you'll just be wasting your money.
Exhibit 2. While waiting for the elevator last Friday, my sunglasses (prescription, naturally) self-destructed in my hands. I was just holding them, not playing with them or dropping them. They are about a year old, replaced after my bike accident in late June 2005. I go to the establishment where I bought them. No, I didn't buy the service contract. No, they can't be fixed. No, they don't have those frames. No, they don't have similar frames into which they can slide my existing lenses. BUT: they can "put me into" a new pair of sunglasses for about $110!
What is this, a used car dealership??? How about selling quality products in which the metal hinge doesn't just randomly shear off???
Needless to say, I declined, and it's a lucky thing it's been dark and gray for the last 2 weeks. (The store is the one in Calhoun Square, for my local readers.) I won't be going there again, and I won't be frequenting Office Max, either. I'll get my notecards and fountain pen cartridges elsewhere, thank you very much.
Service contracts: the new economy.
Great article by Nicolai Ouroussoff in the 9/10 NYT about a new architectural interest in urbanism. (I don't really think it's any new phenom but, hey, they have to sell papers.)
The 10th Venice Biennial of Architecture opened last weekend (Ricky Burdett, curator) and has a bunch of proposals for global cities.
New this fall: Rem Koolhaas book on Lagos.
Making the rounds (NY starting in January; Detroit in February) is a new exhibit curated by Philipp Oswalt called "Shrinking Cities." Includes disurbanist proposals by Moisei Ginzburg, Mikhail Barshch, FLW.
New this fall: Eyal Weisman book called "Hollow Land: the Architecture of Israeli Occupation."
Just needed a place to park this information.
Naturally, the ban on carry-on luggage was lifted the day AFTER I returned from Poland. We were allowed to carry on only wallets, passports, airline tickets/boarding passes, and prescription medication in original containers. No books or newspapers, no drinks or food, no personal items like chapstick.
I was able to carry on, undetected, some Advil and Tagamet. I would have been willing to toss them if need be, but I just wanted to test the system a little bit. An older woman carrying cough drops put up quite an argument until the army guy basically told her to hush up and carry them on, as if he were doing her a big personal favor.
It's all a big show. They wanded the women and patted down the men, but what would they have detected? Metal? We'd already been through the metal detectors. Meanwhile, the terrorists are thinking of the next clever trick.