Hippie Heather

Okay, to be honest, I'm not really. I mean, I like my material goods as much as the next person. I *am*, however, trying to not feed my family utter crap. I think that part of my interest in cooking is an attempt to know what exactly is going into our stomachs and other vital organs; sometimes, though, you just don't feel like taking an entire day to make bread. So, I go to the grocery store. And I read labels. And read labels. And read more labels. Ever notice how even "healthy" whole wheat bread has high-fructose corn syrup as ingredient #2? A bit frustrating, that. Finally, I practically laid down on the floor of Albertson's and discovered, on the very bottom shelf, the one brand of packaged bread that actually had intelligible ingredients listed. Ingredients I would *use* in my own baking. It strikes me as noticeably ironic that one has to basically do yoga to find bread that isn't loaded with scary junk.

And I don't *mind* junk...seriously, yesterday I snarfed down a vanilla milkshake and curly fries. We all have moments of weakness, but on a day to day basis...is it too much to ask that the healthier items be EASY to reach? I don't think I paid any more for this bread, either. I do understand the price component, really. But practically hiding this stuff? I was still shaking my head as I left the store.

I'm thinking that maybe a bread machine is in the wish list for future holidays.
And that's my rant for today.

Not Exactly a Dorkumentary

So I confess that I am a slut for the "dorkumentary"...you know the kind, some arcane piece of historical trivia from which a half hour to an hour of television is wrung, interesting to no one except, well, me. And Gene, most of the time. I suppose in some way, it makes me feel like I am still an "intellectual" (even though I never *was* one anyway); sometimes they are well done, sometimes not, but usually pretty entertaining.

American Experience, on PBS, is not quite this kind of show. Why do I say this? Well, it's neither arcane nor trivial. Frankly, I think it's something that should be required viewing for all American schoolkids and maybe even their parents and neighbors. The content is never "filler", the pacing is excellent, the film and photo footage is astounding. Half the time, it's almost like watching a movie...well, that might be a bit too dorkishly strong, but humor me and plug into it sometime. I think you will like it.

The Foot Has Spoken

They did it. CAROLINA DID IT. CAROLINA WON THE NCAA CHAMPIONSHIP GAME!!! The screams of joy from Emerald Hills hopefully rang all the way to Franklin Street and its bonfires. The champagne poured. Sean May was toasted over and over and over, as was Roy Williams. As were all the Tarheels.

A proud day, and an exorcising of demons for a lot of people. The "I Love Roy's Boys" tshirts have been ordered. The champagne is pouring still!

I Sound Like Bruce Weber

No, really, I do. I screamed myself hoarse during the UNC-Michigan State game in the NCAA semifinals. I never, EVER thought I would be this passionate about any sport, let alone a college sport, but as Gene astutely pointed out, I have married into the Carolina basketball family. A Carolina basketball in-law, if you will. And to be honest, I already have a great in-law family, so why not? I admit it would be brilliant to be down on Franklin Street right now...I'm insanely trashed on red wine, but it would be way more fun with a bunch of similarly inebriated Tarheels. Still, you do what you can, and we have friends from Mebane coming over Monday night to watch that final dance.

I tell you, those Carolina darlings can foxtrot with the best of them. And have proven that, in spades. Love them. Love Sean May the best, but love 'em all.

And I really do sound like a cross between Bruce Weber and Marlene Dietrich.