How much turmeric is enough? How many r's must we pronounce?

Gigantic box.  Vacuum cleaner and part
of poster of the anterior
view of the human body for scale.
Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  I purchased fresh turmeric (I just learned that we pronounce both r's) from Amazon, because a friend made me a cup of turmeric tea that was quite delicious and supposedly behaves as an anti-inflammatory.  And aren't we all a little inflamed?  If not physically, then psychically?   I can't think of a downside to taming all the madness.  At any rate, she bought her fresh turmeric from Amazon, so me too!  Because, I'm a copy cat anti-inflamer.  Yes, CCAI.  I searched, clicked send, and waited.  Pisces, that's a thing you'll be doing a lot of this week, waiting.  Be patient.

Aries (3/21 - 4/19): The very next day, which is how it goes with Amazon, a gigantic package arrived.  Jeez, I thought.  That's more turmeric than I expected.  But I got pretty excited, because that's a whole lot of anti-inflammation going on. It could lead to visible shrinkage of my invisible inflammation!  But Aries, that's not your horoscope.  Sheesh, a box and a vacuum cleaner?  This week, my friend, don't worry about shrinking.  Take up space, live big!

The actual turmeric.  Quarter for scale.
Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  After about an hour of enjoying that box and all that it meant for my future un-inflamed self, I opened it.  Then I remembered that I had also ordered a small tree, (Acer circinatum 'Pacific Fire', in case you're wondering), about two weeks earlier. Two weeks!  Nothing takes two weeks anymore.  How can I possibly be expected to remember stuff from two weeks ago?  I don't even believe in turmeric, but still, I was mildly disappointed when the package was so tiny that it fit in my mailbox, and even more so when I learned that you can buy it at the store locally. But those are miniature disappointments compared to mortality, Taurus. 

Gemini (5/21 - 6/21): Do you remember being about 11, when mad libs were the funniest thing ever?  You could read a sentence with a crazy noun or a ridiculous adjective and laugh for a week?  I wish we could get back to that.  But now, Mad Libs are a dumb car game that seems predictably ridiculous.  But Gemini, let's come up with that thing, the go-to thing always can make you laugh hard.

Cancer (6/22 – 7/21):  Ok, so I've been eating abundant fresh turmeric in smoothies, and it's fairly yummy.  I won't bore you with all the details, but through a mishap that involved credit card fraud that I did not commit, I became the proud owner of a Ninja, a crazy appliance that I'm momentarily infatuated with.  Anyway, I throw mangos and the turmeric into this contraption and poof, a gorgeous yellow beverage arises.  I can't begin to describe how pretty it is, but let's just say that if hope were a color, this would be it.  Cancer, hope IS a color.  Use it.

Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  So, I grab my toothbrush in the morning, but notice that it's bright yellow. Which seemed interesting, not in a good way.    I couldn't remember using it for mixing paint or anything, but as we know, my memory is faulty.  I opened a new toothbrush from my stash, brushed my teeth, and low and behold, now the new toothbrush was also yellow.  I guess you can either be inflamed and have a white toothbrush, or eat lots of turmeric and possibly be not so inflamed. Leo, life is full of hard choices like this.  Make the best of it.
Whiskey and bacon.  It's what's for dinner.

Virgo (8/23 – 9/22):  All winter long, there was a t-shirt in the middle of the road that I drive every day.  It would migrate around a bit, moving from one lane to the other,bobbing gently back and forth from the center line.  It became a topic of conversation, like, "hey, did you see that the t-shirt moved a few inches today?"  Or, "fooled me again, I thought it was a possum."  And then, alas, some do-gooder cleaned up the road and the t-shirt is gone.  Poof.  "What does this mean for those of us who remain?", a friend asked.  I think what it means, Virgo, is that it's up to us now.  We can't rely on the t-shirt.

Libra (9/23 – 10/22):  I went to Home Depot the other day, one of my not-so-secret guilty pleasures.  I love walking up and down the aisles filled with possibility and people who know how to create stuff, or at least clean it.  Anyway, I needed a battery for my stupid Black & Decker weed whacker (although I guess we don't call them that anymore.  They prefer to be called, "String trimmers".  I can appreciate that, and I'll try to remember.) 

I'm looking in the battery area, and I know exactly what I need, but don't see it.  A male employee guy tries to help me.  "So, we're looking for something red.  It will be red, you see, because it's Black and Decker.  Every brand has their look, so what we're looking for here is a red package."  And, "You can see where the voltage is  listed, right on the package.  You have to be sure you get the right voltage."  I grow so weary of it, Libra.  I so so so wish that every man had to go around as a woman for a week, and be condescended to the way we are, in a pleasant helpful way, talked to in a way that assumes you're an idiot but you know you have to just smile and say, "thanks so much for your help!"  Libra, if you've figured out any kind ways to change things up, let me know.

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  If you started a country, who would you get to write the national anthem?  For my country I was thinking I'd invite Lucinda Williams to do it, duh, because it would be soulful and tender and wouldn't have many high notes, much like the country itself.  But then I thought, wait, must I have an anthem?  It's my country, dammit.  Let the people sing what they want!  So, Scorp, I hope you'll visit my anthemless country.  Sing whatever you damn well please.

Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21): And another thing, while we're on that rant?  A while back, I went to a beekeeping meeting with the lovely librarian.  We were sitting in chairs, talking to each other during the break.  A man walks up, totally out of nowhere, and says, "You guys new at beekeeping?"  And without waiting to hear my answer, which would have been, "No, I've had bees since 1994," he said, "what you need to remember is always wear your bee suit.  Don't ever just go into the hive to do an inspection without it on.  You're really going to want to remember to do that."  Right?  Is that normal, Sag?  Do you think he would have interrupted two men in a conversation to offer unsolicited advice?  And, do we look like we're about to strip down to nothing and dance around with stingining bugs?  What, you think I'm angry?  Does that mean you think I'm angry?  No, not angry.  Just tired.  Will it ever change?

Capricorn (12/22 - 1/19):  I just learned from a reliable source that it's active shooter month at KCLS!  I guess there's a month devoted to every real and imagined risk, like "apocalypse month" (bring your own salt), "earthquake month" (same rules as active shooter month:  find your safe spot), and "we're getting old and wear back braces like the old guys at Home Depot month" (get used to it.)  Capricorn, discover and embrace your own theme this month. If appropriate, wear a costume to celebrate it! 

Aquarius (1/20-2/18): This seems like an important book to read, though I haven't yet.  Imagine if the emphasis in sex education for young girls was more on expecting equal pleasure and less on disease, pregnancy, pestilence. But Aquarius, here's something else to think about.  Let's keep working on Time Travel.  I'll meet you there.

PS:  If you enjoy this blog it, it would be great if you either like the FB page or follow it by clicking the "join this site" button on the right.  Thank you!

Comments

  1. You got an Acer circinatum 'Pacific Fire' in the MAIL? I want to hear more about that.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That tree is going to be stunning!

    And I hear you on the possum/t-shirt. There's been a rodent/mitten in "my" parking spot at work for a week now. I'm going to miss it when it up and disappears.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Eww, rodent mitten is pretty descriptive. It sounds like it's probably not going anywhere soon though. . .

      Delete
    2. I had to come back and tell you that we had a snowstorm and the plows took away the rodent mitten. I managed not to cry!

      Delete
  3. Phew, turns out both pronunciations are correct according to Webster, so we can continue to conserve energy, if we choose, on that first 'R'.

    Psychically inflamed - yes.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ooohhh. The "mansplaining" thing. I guess we're not supposed to call it that any longer but I don't know what else to call it.
    Good idea, to make every man be a woman for a bit and see how THEY like being treated like they're none too bright.

    But your horoscopes? I always love them!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Some of us have learned when to shut up. But only some of us.

      Delete
    2. Thanks, Knittergran. (And Jono, for learning wtsu.)

      Delete
  5. Well, I haven't been taking in much turmeric lately (didn't it used to just have one r?) but I sure have had the mainsplaining situation going on and I ain't got no more use or time for that shit.
    They can explain how they got a black eye next time one of them tries to do it to me.

    ReplyDelete
  6. The roomie swears by the stuff. I tripped coming out of the chicken coop last evening and now have a knot and abrasion on my forehead. Will turmrurickr help that?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think if you BELIEVE in the turmeric it will cure everything. It's all about manifesting, Jono.

      Delete
  7. If you want to dye your clothes, and even if you don't, turmeric is really great for that too...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, Merran, that's happening, whether I like it or not! :-)

      Delete
  8. I just learned that turmeric is PRONOUNCED with two r's too. Imagine my chagrin.

    BTW-I've been watching a rabbit decomposing. Each day Felix and I visit the site of the, ah, massacre and each day, the bunny is flatter and more, um, decomposed. Felix is thinking doggie thoughts about this situation. I end up thinking about mortality and the inevitable flatness we become, especially if we're left outside and we're run over periodically by a car.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That is a sad flat bunny story. But I'm sure it give Felix something to live for. xoxox

      Delete
  9. Catching up on blogs after being away for a while...this was so fun to read :)

    On turmeric: your story reminds me of when I graduated from college and for some reason felt I urgently needed to visit the local natural food co-op (which I'd never yet set foot in) and buy huge amounts of spices from the bulk section. I think I was still using pinches of that silo of turmeric 10 years later.

    On Pacific Fire: GREAT little trees! I stowed one in my brother's backyard for 3 years, where it endured benign neglect (totally understandable, my brother was overwhelmed and I knew this) until I could move it to my current home. Not only did it survive but it is now thriving in its new spot. A patient, lovely, scrappy tree.

    And on Mad Libs: Well, here we must respectfully disagree. We took a big ol' 100-page Mad Lib book with us on our southwestern road trip, and the Resident Teen was transported back in time to toddler-like hilarity, and the phrases "basket of corpses" and "I'll puke and I'll retch and I'll blow your house down" are now permanent additions to our family's personal dictionary of phrases....

    What gorgeous weather we're having, eh? Ah, am listening to the sounds of lawn mowers next door now...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm glad you found humor in the Mad Libs. I wish I still could; maybe it's being with the right people on the right road trip. And I'm glad my Pacific Fire is a good option. The deer have been snacking on it and I finally had to build a little house for it out of chicken wire.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Dowdy Church-lady Post

Carry on, my friends.

We shall not be moved