The most recent 20 comments posted to Making Light by Mris:

Here in Minneapolis, we have at least one halal butcher who makes up a "halal Swedish meatball mix" and advertises it in their shop window. Perhaps they have shared recipes with your cafe there.

My great-grandmother spent her last five years afraid she was going to explode if she fell over, because she'd been taking nitroglycerin. I don't think anybody should try to avoid making Teresa laugh on these grounds.

Best wishes for a speedy recovery, and for continued boredom until then, since boredom is far, far better than lots of interesting activity when you're in the hospital.

And are we to understand that Mr. Gravel's passport really says "Mike" while Mr. Huckabee's says "Michael"?

I've gotten Amazon and Google (including gmail) to behave perfectly normally this morning, as another data point.

Happy birthday! Family rule is: five days of celebration minimum for ordinary birthdays, ten for big birthdays. "Last likely square of a prime" sounds like an excuse for the extra five to me.

I am so confused. Probably because it is two minutes to six a.m. as I type this, but: those rum balls appear to have no chocolate in. No chocolate whatsoever.

I am so confused.

Anna @25: my dog sleep-suckles, too, but only when she's been sleeping curled up on my lap for quite some time. When she wakes up from those dreams, she tends to butt her head softly into me and lick my wrist. I'm her alpha, so maybe she's associating it with momness. I don't know.

She has also had dreams that fairly clearly distressed her -- crying in her dreams followed by confused crying upon waking. Those are far rarer than the happy twitches or the sleep-suckling, and good thing for us monkeys, too -- those distressed little noises cut right through a person.

Also, Wasabrod is a lovely thing to give beings who have had bad dreams.

I realize that there's a certain "won't someone please think of the chiiiiildren" tone to bringing up the 5-year-old. But as limited as the choice in where to get sexual contact may be for some gay people, the choice in where to deposit bodily wastes at the airport is still more limited -- and, I would venture to say, more urgent.

Not even just the stereotypical park bathroom late at night, Josh. An airport bathroom. So if my 5-year-old godson is being taken to his grandparents' house, this is where he has to perform bodily functions. His parents don't take him to singles bars at night. If they're flying, you damn betcha they take him to the bathrooms at MSP. I don't think it's unreasonable for his folks not to want to have to answer questions about what those men are doing and what that noise is and what's that on the floor and so on. You can absolutely decry homophobia among police without having to defend sex in the airport bathrooms to get there.

"This is just the sort of thing I've come to expect from [category of person]."

"If you [category of person] really cared about [issue]...."

I am still fighting the urge to rename my livejournal friendspage "Ill-Natured and Vexatious Persons."

To answer our hostess's questions @30, yes, yes, 2001 (which was -- possibly not coincidentally -- also the first year I heard a SFWA officer say anything at all), and the more expensive book, of course. While I *will* read the cereal box, the toothpaste tube, etc., I try to keep the stuff I actually buy to read above that level.

I try not to run out of entertainment on flights, but when I do, I am another SkyMall-editing type.

It is probably a bad sign that I can't figure out how people can write love letters without being able to spell poetaster.

I have this theory that a new recipe I found called Orange Kisses will bring some light to the abundance of Minnesota darkness, and further that varying them to be Lemon Kisses and Lime Kisses might do similar light-ish things. I suspect that buying additional citruses Just To See is taking a good idea too far.

At my house, we were hoping to have an early Mikulas today with our favorite four-year-old, but the chocolates I ordered by bellowing cheerfully at a Hungarian man halfway across the country (by phone) did not arrive in time. So we will have a late Mikulas with him instead.

But there will be saffron buns in plenty of time for Santa Lucia. I don't actually know that making lussekatter for Lucia Day helps coax the light back, but I will do my saffron-scented part just in case.

The plural is very important in my "Happy Holidays."

Evan's on lj as evangoer. Because he's sneaky like that.

Glad you all had such a great workshop!

I just finished reading The Final Reflection on Saturday morning. I'm pretty sure it was the last of his published novels I hadn't read before.

Oh, no no no.

One of my favorite restaurants in Omaha when I lived there used to serve something very like this, but with mushrooms and gorgonzola in it as well.

I am in the "strongly approve" camp on gorgonzola. One of my friends is not, and had never tasted it before I accidentally over-gorgonzolaed the risotto. He tasted something funny, and (being a good Wisconsin boy) he reached for the dish of cheese on the table so the cheese would make the funny taste go away. Oops.

I wonder how Sen. Obama would regard someone who said, "I'm sure there's no racism in this region. I've talked to a bunch of white people, and none of them said they experienced any problems with racism directed against them."

Yes, that's it, thanks, Dave Bell: just a minute ago, I thought, "Oh, crud! I can't even get my 'possibly wrong' right!" And then you'd figured out what I meant anyway.

This is why I'm not a politician: I'd be so tempted to answer that "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" was on my iPod, just to make the reporter gasp, "I knew it, I knew it!"

Or maybe "The Bishop of Bray," but the reporter probably wouldn't get the statement there: "For whatsoever king may reign...."

(It is early and I may have misspelled where he is bishop of.)

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