I can’t believe it’s been four weeks since the shiner fiasco. I’m so get-lost-shiner-I’m-done-with-you! By the second week, I was putting some major spin on it. Calling it a facial tattoo — my stream of consciousness tattoo. Now, it’s a mere shadow of its former self. Looks like I haven’t washed my face for a month, but that’s better than the puke-green of last week. Just enough swelling left on the brow bone to keep me from having any threading, waxing or tinting done. Moving on.

It was 65 degrees yesterday here in my neck of Canadaland, so Mr. G, honey and I zipped downtown to play. I bought a couple of books. One was The Spice and Herb Bible (Ian Hemphill with Kate Hemphill, 2nd ed.) I wanted to make my own dry rub. I wanted to know what purslane was and what to do with fennel. I’m going to get to do that with this book, and probably a few bicep curls, too.

I bought these beauties —

They’re glass confiture jars from France. I could and I might put jam in them, but I bought them for storage. I’m cleaning my pantry likes it’s never been cleaned before. It’s all about the storage.

I live for lids.

Pumpkin seeds. Yum.

Paprika, baby.

One of these is waiting for dry rub. I love the wide mouth on this jar. Ever tried getting the herbs out of those little jars? Plus, I buy a lot of stuff in bulk. I’m going back for a dozen more. Come the sizzling summer heat, I’m thinking fresh lemonade. That’s how I roll.

Let’s get this last Friday of winter started.

Elen