Good morning, all! I was wide awake at 5:55, so I forced myself to leave the security of my bed to face the surgeon this morning. I have to catch the bus to 59th Street between 8-8:15. When I'm back, I'll post whatever did or did not occur.
Bric-a-brac? Isn't that French for tchotchke? I have lots of paper items, books and music, but few pieces of bric-a-brac, my favorite being my Disney Alice in Wonderland cookie jar. One of my landladies in college had a house filled with DaVinci Last Supper bric-a-brac: paint-by-number, velvet painting, plaques, mugs, ashtrays, cushions, etc. Paying the rent was like a bad church service.
Dish du jour, or TOD: my passive-aggressive mother was a wonderful cook when she could get it together. After 1961, she couldn't get it together too often or too well so things went downhill mentally, socially, and domestically: she discovered prefab food and our dining habits went to hell. By 1965, I don't think she did more than stock the refrigerator with frozen items.
However, when she was on, there was no one better: apple pie, doughnuts, popcorn balls, pineapple upside-down cake, stuffed green peppers, baked ham, and the best pecan pie I've ever had, primarily because my mother's flare for turning flour, crisco, water and sugar into piecrust was a God-given talent that few possess.
Good morning, DRHisaka!
And now DRTomovoz has shown up! Hello, dear friend.