Beverages of the Apocalpyse

This excellent basket included some
beautiful hand-knitted items, including
that red Norwegian-style resistance hat.

I am now stocked up on Beverages of the Apocalypse.  We won a basket at a recent event, which included a whole bunch of hot chocolate packets.  When I make hot chocolate, I usually make it by heating milk in the microwave and adding dark cocoa and sugar.  But the microwave just broke, so the packets are welcome.  And I just re-ordered a bunch of tea and chocolate from Equal Exchange.  

A recent phone conversation with Younger Daughter:

Me:  Did you hear about the meteor that was over Ohio?  K saw it!

Younger Daughter:  You know, we’ve had a lot of signs of The Apocalypse lately.  In the past few years we’ve had an eclipse, a plague, and now a meteor.  Am I wrong?

Me: We’ve also had a giant wind storm (last year and this year), power outages that lasted a long time, and yet another windstorm, followed by snow.

YD:Yes, we had a lot of snow and cold this winter. 

Me: AND the microwave broke.

YD: Are you ready to be raptured yet?

Me: “Take me away, Calgon!”

YD: I don’t know who Calgon is.

- - - - - - - 

The correct phrase from the commercials of my childhood is “Calgon, take me away!”  

The fact that I still remember this phrase proves the efficacy of advertising slogans.  The reminiscence led me down a rabbit hole, courtesy of Youtube, which revealed the changing portrayal of stresses in US (white) women’s lives. 

In the 1960s, the ad slogan was “Calgon Bouquet: nicest thing that’s happened to you since him.”  The woman is defined by her service to others - the husband and the children.  The ad is narrated entirely by a male voice.

In 1977 the commercial for Calgon has “the dog, the telephone, the children, the doorbell” as the stresses in the woman’s life.  The woman is still anchored to a life solely at home.  The ad starts with a male voice narrating, but the woman has one line, the famous “Calgon, take me away!”  The scene shifts to a ludicrously giant bathtub in a room with huge windows (no curtains!) for the enjoyment of the bubble bath.

By 1979 the woman now obviously has a job outside the home.  The stresses are: traffic, the male boss yelling, and then at home – the baby and the dog.  A microcosm of the economy which had (white) women joining the work force but also still responsible for most of home life.  Calgon takes her away to the same kind of bathing area with a ridiculous number of 3-story-high pillars.

In the 1980s the commercial is much shorter. By now all of American knows the schtick and all the woman has to say is the one famous line.  The bathroom scene is not shown in a wide angle.  

The internet shows no evidence that Calgon commercials ever featured a person of color. 

The fact that the next generation knows nothing of Calgon taking us away surely means that the Apocalypse is on its way. How about you, dear reader, what would be your favorite Beverage of the Apocalypse?

If there is going to be an Apocalypse,
I will need Peach schapps.

You Have the Power

TEETH.
American Museum of Natural History,
New York City, August 2014

On Wed. March 11th I went to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust (DWIDNT?) and acquired my first crown, on a tooth that has not been causing me any pain or trouble.  I kvetched and moaned beforehand to anyone who would listen.  My friends offered concern and solace, patiently telling me that they had had this procedure and it was not painful.  Expensive dental work without pain? Can’t be, I reasoned.

I entered the appointment in a bad mood, because of All The Things, including but not limited to anticipation of pain.   I told the dentist at the start that I was nervous, for which the response was the usual medical-personnel brushoff, “Oh, you’ll do fine.”  

This reminds me of Nov 2016 after the Orange Menace was first elected, when someone at church said to me, “It will be okay.”  It has not been okay.  It has been horrendous.

I said to the Dentist Whom I Do Not Trust, “You’ve done a billion of these, right?”  Yes, pretty much.  He spent about 30 seconds administering the local anesthetic, went away until I was numb, came back and spent about 5 minutes drilling the old filling out.  Then he left the room, never to be seen again by me that day.  The rest of the work that hour was done by Kelly, the Person Whose Title I Don’t Know.  Or maybe her name was not Kelly.  I don’t remember.  (I wish that I would be handed a card at every dentist visit that says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName” because after six months I can never remember the hygienist’s name.)  I was worried about how the dentist was going to be, professionally, but I should have worried about how the Unknown Titled Person would be.  She did a lot of intricate work to make the temporary crown.

They knew I had never before received a crown, and that it was a long time since I had had anything done requiring local anesthetic.  I wanted them to tell me, for each part of the procedure, exactly what they were doing.  They did not.  Informing the patient is too much to ask in 2026.  As best I could, I asked questions, despite my mouth being numb.   But if I didn’t ask, there was very little info forthcoming.  

Wedding crowns from
Pakistan.

I was told what not to eat, and not to floss, that it’s probably a good idea to rinse with warm salt water, the warmer the better.  This info should be handed to the dental patient after the procedure, on a little card which also says, “Your hygienist today was FirstName.” I am now terrified to brush my teeth on that side.  

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had no pain, even after the anesthetic wore off.  All my friends were telling me the truth, and I am grateful.  I rinsed with salt water, while the Common Household Husband peppered me with questions:  How much salt?  How hot the water?  How often?  I have no idea, because I was not handed a little card with detailed instructions.  I am the grandchild of a train engineer and the daughter of an engineer and a teacher.  I want detailed instructions.  Or, to put it more bluntly, I want to be pampered.

It is a temporary crown, but gives me the authority to say, on March 28th, “You say ‘No Kings’, but I actually have a crown. Bwa ha ha ha !.”  It is very unlikely I will actually say that.  

I offer no final judgment until I receive the permanent crown. The temporary one makes me feel like I have glue on my gums.

*** Two days later ***

On Friday March 13, 2026 we had a huge wind storm, which knocked the power out, just after I finished cooking dinner.  We ate dinner in the light of the shabbat candles.  I had just charged up my kindle earlier in the day.  The Common Household Husband was home and, though his EV was below 50%, it had enough charge to run the fridge.  The outside temperature was above freezing.  No trees fell on the house. You can decide if all of that means Friday the 13th is lucky or unlucky.   The power was off until around 3 PM the next day.

Near our son's apartment

During the night, I skipped around on my kindle, starting three new books and eventually finishing one I had been reading, in the hopes of falling back asleep.  I had been longing to have the concentration to sink my teeth into a long book, and I took this as my opportunity, although it is hard to concentrate with the wind howling.  I bought a 571-page Pulitzer-Prize-winning history book about Cuba. I am enjoying it so far.  I will probably finish it in July.

We made it through the night, waking up on Saturday to an ambient temperature of around 58 degrees in the house.  Brrr!  We got up and made our way to Eat ‘N’ Park, a fine local eating establishment, where we found everyone else also in search of a hot breakfast.  

I completely forgot to rinse with salt water.  But I still remain without any pain or infection.  So far.

We cleaned up branches and sticks from the yard until the bin was full.  We drove over to our son’s apartment – his power had been restored Friday afternoon – charged our devices, chatted, and went for a strenuous walk to view the local damage.  When we returned home in the afternoon, the power had been restored about half an hour prior.  NAPTIME.

So we have electrical power back at our house (not so much for my church, sadly), and I have temporary regal gear, at least for Molar #31.  This afternoon, the wind is really picking up speed again.  Thanks, 2026.

Voting is my superpower, and probably yours too.  I refuse to cede that power: I have a crown. 

Hope to see you all in the streets on March 28th.

No huge branches down in our yard.

The bin is full but we still have
more branches to put in it.
And another windstorm today.

Does she wear a crown or a tiara?

First lines: February 2026 edition

Below are the first lines of the books I finished reading in February.  Once again, it was hard to concentrate on reading – 679 pages total.  

 

 

Book 1

My Dungeon Shook

Letter to My Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Emancipation

Dear James,

I have begun this letter five times and torn it up five times.

 

 

Book 2

Count Camembert’s estate, Gougère

“Come back here, young lady!”  

“No!”

  

Book 3

The Clothes of Others

Mma Ramotswe, owner of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (as featured in a two-page article in the Botswana Daily News, under the headline “A Lady Who Definitely Knows How to Find Things Out”), had strong views on the things she owned.

 

 

Book 4

“The English understand wool.”

My mother sat on a small sofa in our suite at Claridge’s, from which the television had been removed at her request.  She held in her lap a bolt of very beautiful handloomed tweed which she had brought back from the Outer Hebrides.

 

Book 5

In October there were yellow trees.  Then the clocks went back the hour and the long November winds came in and blew, and stripped the trees bare.

Sweeter times.  Early November 2016.

Finished ¼ of, on purpose

Wherever You Are, Stop What You’re Doing

Stop and look at the tangled rootlets of the poison ivy vine climbing the locust tree.

 

Did not finish #1 

Chapter One: Cecily

Bintang, Kuala Lumpur, February 1945

Japanese-occupied Malaya

Teenage boys had begun to disappear.

Did not finish #2

After distributing the eight ice-creams – they were the largest vanilla, chocolate, and raspberry super-bumpers, each in yellow, brown, and almost purple strips, Pop Larkin climbed into the cab of the gentian blue, home-painted thirty-hundredweight truck, laughing happily.

 

The titles and authors revealed:

 

 

Book 1

The Fire Next Time

By James Baldwin

128 pages • 1963

nonfiction classics essays memoir race challenging informative reflective medium-paced

I recommend this book which consists of two essays.  The title is from an African American spiritual. Baldwin’s epigraph: 

“God gave Noah the rainbow sign, 

No more water, the fire next time!”

The “fire next time” likely refers to the final day of judgment. (2 Peter 3: 5-7)  The phrase appears in the final sentence of the second essay.  The thoughts Baldwin expresses are still relevant in 2026.   In 1963, Baldwin said that if-  if-  if- people of good conscience work at it, America might be able to become a place of freedom for all.  The Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act were passed in 1964.  And then the Voting Rights Act was gutted by the Roberts Court (SCOTUS).    Right now it doesn’t look all that likely that our country is headed toward freedom for all.  I feel as if we are actually living through the “fire” phase predicted by the spiritual. 

 

Book 2

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich.  (graphic book) by Deya Muniz.

256 pages • paperback • first pub 2023

fiction graphic novel lgbtqia+ romance young adult funny hopeful lighthearted fast-paced

It took me 15 days to finish Baldwin’s short book of essays.  I needed this graphic book to restore my reading pace.

Imagine a kingdom where females cannot inherit, so the heir must hide her identity and appear in public as a man.  Don’t need to think too far, do we?  Now imagine that all the characters are named after cheese.  This is a whimsical queer romance told in bright colors with lots of defiant characters yelling or sobbing, I mean, understandably, given their situations.  I read it in a few hours.  It has a happy ending.  

This is a YA graphic book I found when I looked on Libby for a book titled “Sandwich”, recommended by Bibliomama.  

Il ne faut pas mourir sans avoir
mangé tous les fromages.

Book 3

The House of Unexpected Sisters (No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency #18)

Alexander McCall Smith

226 pages • first pub 2017

fiction mystery lighthearted mysterious slow-paced

Just when I said (last month) that McCall Smith never includes LBTQIA characters, this book introduces one, quite positively portrayed.  And the way the character is written, perhaps this character is included in future books in this series.

 

 

Book 4

The English Understand Wool

By Helen DeWitt

69 pages • 2022

Fiction literary

Contrary to my expectations, this novella does NOT take place in England, nor in Scotland, nor in Ireland.  It’s a clever story, in which none of the characters are particularly likable.  Includes an interesting twist. 

Perhaps Einstein understands wool.
I do not think those skeins are wool.

Nebby detail: In the “first line” above I used quotation marks to make it clear a character was speaking.  In the book, the author uses the French method of a leading em dash (I don't know the proper term for this type of punctuation) to indicate a spoken line.  And that method is entirely appropriate.   

In a French book, a character might say:

– Il ne faut pas mourir sans avoir vu Carcassonne.

In a book in English, the character would say:

“One must not die before having seen Carcassonne.”

I have, in fact, seen Carcassonne, so I’m all set.

Book 5

Small Things Like These 

by Claire Keegan.

112 pages • 2021

fiction historical literary

It was a joy to re-read this book.  I highly recommend it, again.  I am leading the book discussion in March. The writing is excellent and the events of the book are relevant today.

I posted a tiny bit more info about this book in Dec 2023.

Finished ¼ of 

The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year

Margaret Renkl

270 pages • first pub 2023  

nonfiction essays nature

I enjoyed reading the “Winter” portion of this book.  I want to wait until spring to read the next section.  I can’t bear to read about spring during this particular winter.

Did not finish #1 

The Storm We Made

By Vanessa Chan

339 pages •first pub 2024

fiction historical dark

This was for book club # 1, but I simply could not read it.  Too much trauma inflicted on children. We’ve heard enough of that in our own news these days.  I can’t stomach it in a novel.  It has war spies in it – I probably would have liked that part.

Did not finish #2

The Darling Buds of May (the Pop Larkin Chronicles Book 1)

By H.E. Bates

160 pages • first pub 1958

Started out funny, but became silly and rather annoying.  I think this was recommended by a booktuber as a light, amusing read.  

A darling bud of May, from 2014.
This was the last time we grew a tulip in our yard.
Tulips are simply dessert for deer.

As we look forward to the actual darling buds of May in a few months, what is in your reading stack?