So let me get this straight: peanut butter on a burger?
We’re not talking about frozen slices here, are we? (<–see, I can make jokes, too.)
But really, peanut butter? On a BURGER? What is this nonsense? Is this something people actually do? Do you do this? Am I missing out on something delicious and incredible? Name one person who puts peanut butter on their burger. Name one. I’ll wait.
I’m trying to imagine the appeal. I suppose it’s sweet on savory, which is always a solid way to live life. So I can see why people are drawn to this idea. But how does it TASTE? And also, is this an old school (sorry, skool) thing, or did something just make it up? It is something embedded in your childhood memories? In there with no seat belts and velvet sweatshirts?
Wait, It’s not a TikTok sensation or something is it? You know I don’t tik, nor do I tok, so I’d be in the dark there.
In conclusion, and most importantly, should I try this?
Glad we had this talk.
Let’s talk about double dipping.
(I just felt that collective eeeeeew rumble in my bones.)
Oh, I get it. And I’m hyperaware of double dipping habits with those around me. Because I’m definitely not a double dipper (I could sense you were worried), OUTSIDE of my house. And even inside, if I’m sharing some chips and salsa or guac or cheese dip or hummus or white bean dip (you get the point), with the kids or Aaron (not the cheese dip), I teach Will and Nat how to TURN THE CHIP before dipping again. (PIVOT. PIVOOOOOOT.) You gotta turn that chip to the naked, germless (well…) side before dipping again, man!
But here’s the thing. Which I can’t decide is worse than just living my truth. I announce that I’m turning the chip. To everyone, the whole crowd, I announce it as if I’m announcing a good grade I got on an English essay, “I’m not double dipping, you guys! I’m turning the chip. I’m turning the chip all the way around to the clean side. My mouth hasn’t been on this side, you see. So I’m not double dipping! This side of the chip only has my hand germs and hand lotion and a stale leftover sanitizer scent. It’s fine! Keep dipping!”
Because if I didn’t announce it, someone might see my chip hand going back into the dip, thinking I hadn’t pivoted the chip, and then immediately erase me from their phone’s contact list, never to be heard from again.
So I announce. So people know. And I keep my friends.
These are the things I think about night and all the time.
Okay, do you say addictive? Or addicting?
Like, “This white bean dip is addictive.”
Or, “This guacamole is addicting.”
Clearly it’s addictive. But the other day in the car Aaron said something along the lines of, “Well it’s very addicting.” (<–I tell such descriptive stories, don’t I?) And I go, “Addicting? It’s addictive.” And he said, “I feel like it’s addicting.” And I said, “You’re a PROFESSIONAL WRITER and you think it’s addicting? Who am I married to? What’s next, you don’t like cheese or something???” oh.
Also, I think the word itself is more attractive – addictive. The ive at the end makes it soft. Makes it more lovely. If a word describing human weakness can be.
(it’s addictive, though.)
*Note – he’s now telling me he never said this. And that he’s always said addictive. I’ll be seeking therapy soon.*
You guys, I’ve got the saddest news about my garden.
It’s complete poo poo. You know our Zinnias that we plant ever year? BUNNIES. (yes, we spray constantly.) You know the vintage metal pea trellis we bought late spring and planted peas and green beans under it? TWICE? Bunnies. (really, I spray all the time!)
Everything else – the poppies (said like the wicked witch of the west), the carrots, beets, corn stalks – all gone. F*@#$%KING BUNNIES. We’ve never had this problem before!
I’m so depressed. It looks positively pitiful. A joke. We went to Fayetteville last weekend, and came back to a completely moved down horror scene from a Quentin Tarantino movie.
YES, we cover that thing in rabbit repellent DAILY and they still get it. The only thing we have yet to try is a muscle shirt with a machete or a machine gun. And I’m this.close.
All that to say, we’re already designing (in our heads) raised beds for next spring! Two of them, side by side, with a cute pea gravel walkway between them. WITH CHICKEN WIRE or some sort of stylish garden fence that’s high enough to keep me from turning on the soundtrack to Kill Bill while I take an ax to these “precious creatures.” Don’t tempt me.
Tell me, for your raised bed – did you just buy the wood and build it? Or did you order a kit and put it together? Obviously we have a months and months and months before we start. BUT – I’m also wondering about garden fences. What are you using that keeps these blasted munchers out? Show me the cute. Because I need to salvage what’s left and get it blocked off, pronto.
ALSO, you should know that yes, Aaron put chicken wire around my dahlia patch (so many are coming up!) because if these bunnies even think about going near my creamy romantic flower blend, we’re talking mass funeral situation. And zero guilt.
I’m rock solid as a mom, why do you ask?
As of now it looks like a colossal stormy wash out for KC. Which I realize is a complete blessing, given the situation out west. Maybe some of ours will head that way as I’m uh, hosting an outdoor patio girl hang today at 4pm, and the forecast from noon today through Sunday morning is like, 95% chance of mega thunderstorms. I’ll make it work! We even bought a mister because originally it was going to be 92 and sunny, but I don’t believe we’ll be needing that anymore. Ha?
From the last couple of weeks, in case ya missed it::: Another round of books! You guys love the book club posts, and that makes me giddy. So read that one! Also, a very summery recipe – Gnocchi in a Fresh Tomato Sauce. Just. so. good. And then we have another tomato-focused snack – Caprese Biscuit Tarts! Cute and fun and so many of you are making it already. And lastly, our new Ilve Range! It’s just so painfully stunning, and I slipped a little discount in there for ya. 🙂
Be honest with me, am I putting chicken wire around my garden? I can take it.