Affirmation or why I haven't bought a digital camera yet:

"Nikon FM3A (my camera) hard to find; Nikon came out with this all-metal manual focus body in 2001. It is a beautifully balanced camera and, with a 50/1.4 lens, will take much better pictures than what 99 percent of digital camera owners capture with their cheap kit zoom lenses."

Only thing is, I don't have the 50mm lens. I have the 45mm lens. I wonder if the reviewer feels the same way. I hope so. It's a spectacular lens.

See, I want a new camera. But, what I want and what I need are two different stories. Do I really need a professional digital camera? Probably not. Maybe some day I will buy one.

More on the Dancing Chicken

Here's an actual video of the Dancing Chicken from a couple posts ago. Apparently, her name is Venus. Sadly, the signage looks pretty large. I guess I couldn't read it because I was speeding down the street. It has nothing to do with my eyesight. No, nothing at all. Anyway, here's the video.

The Famous Dancing Chicken

I am a dork.

After services at Temple, there is punch, coffee, cookies, fruit, etc. As I partook in some fresh fruit, the Rabbi came up to say hi. Instead of talking about something important, some great issue, I spent five freaking minutes talking about my hair.

I felt really dorky afterward.

"Agatestone," you may be pondering, "Why did you spend five minutes acting like an idiot talking about your hair with the Rabbi?"

Well, because I chopped all my hair off, dear reader. My long mane of black hair is now gone. I am short-haired again and it's such a shock.

You may also be asking, "Is 'partook' a real word, Agatestone?"

Dear reader, I have no freaking idea if partook is a word or not. But, that's the best I can do right now. So be it.

Thank goodness.

Thank goodness that although the Rabbi's wife (our childhood rabbi, not current rabbi) again was working in our office, she didn't disturb my fragile existence by tempting me with the chocolate goodness that she normally shares with our department. For once, my karma stayed in balance.

Her glorious brownies, though wonderous, tend to cause havoc, and throw my karma out of whack. I'm not sure if its the hint of hazelnut or the pinch of holiness, but seriously, havoc is invariably wreaked when I acquire one of her brownies.

I think what I need to do is tip the scale in my favor. Do extra karmic credit. Then, when I'm tempted by baked goods baked by the Rabbi's wife, my karma will stay balanced. My life will not swirl out of control. I won't break, spill or bump into anything. Disasters will not ruin my day. I will be able to eat said brownies with a light heart.

Chicken Dancing.

Oh man wearing a Detroit Red Wings jersey over a Chicken suit, standing on the side of the road. As you danced your seductive dance, waving that placard up in the air, let it be known that I would have bought whatever you were selling, except for the fact that the lettering on your placard was too small. As I sped down the road, ensorceled by your captivating dance, I pitied the fact that all I could read was $6.99. What were you selling, dear Dancing Chicken, for only $6.99?

Oh how I wish that you had printed your sign in a large, more bold font, with better kerning and leading. If only you had, I would have stopped. Yes, I would have interrupted my trip to talk with you, to share with you, to hand you $6.99 to purchase whatever magic item you were advertising.

Alas. I sped again by that corner today. You were not there. Did you sell out whatever it was you were selling? Did you take your glorious dance to another corner? Maybe one day, one day soon, I will see you again, Dancing Chicken.

Words I don't care for. And one that I do care for.

Wordsmith.

Jewess.

Newbie.

One of my favorite words, however, is chiaroscuro . I love saying chiaroscuro and I like paintings that exhibit chiaroscuro.

Thinking cap.

Ok readers. Please put on your thinking caps. I need some direction. I expect to have a bumper crop of grapes this year. I grow very very (I cannot stress this enough) very sweet Concord grapes. Obviously, the bunches are still small, but when they mature over the coming months, I will be swimming in grapes.

I am not a jam or jelly person. So, what else can I do with said grapes? Just to give you an idea of what they are like, they taste exactly like Sweet Tarts. I need some ideas, please.

Or, would you like some grapes to make jam for yourself. Of course, it might be kind of far to send you, the Violet Diva, grapes without them turning to raisins, but my local readers, the Amnesiac Concert Flautist, the Breakfast Czar, the Chocolate Whisperer, Willow, and Edna (gosh Edna, you've got to get yourself a nickname), well, you are more than welcome to have some to preserve.

I actually made grape preserves two years ago and never really ate them, because, as I stated before, I'm not really a jam/jelly type person.