What we have here is a failure to communicate. When I said, “Andrew darling, the unsalted butter is mine and mine alone. Don’t touch it or you’ll eat catfood for a week,” it didn’t give him carte blanche to revert to his bachelor ways and …

Well, someone has a sense of humour. I hope.

On the weekend Andrew and I disposed of 18 boxes of books. Some went to charity, some to the used book store, some (moldy ones) to landfill. No matter where they ended up, that’s a lot of words leaving my home. I felt a void …

Last cannibal post. I promise. I just got permission to share this with you and can’t resist. The background: My sister picked up that cannibal fork in Fiji en route to Papua New Guinea. She was going to visit my godparents who were stationed there …

First of all, I must say I’m extremely impressed with all the thought you put into your answers. People noticed the use of fabric, provided links to images of similar objects and thought up creative uses for the bulbous end. Bravo! When my sister showed …

Forks go on the left. Knives to the right. But where do you put this thing? When I read Cheryl Sternman Rule’s blog entry today, I just had to post this picture. This hangs on my sister’s living room wall. It’s a souvenir she picked …