While going through my old cookbooks, I stumbled on this gem:

Mmm, doesn’t that look delicious?  Granted, it’s not nearly as horrifying as many cookbooks of the ’60s and ’70s, but, sheesh, I thought I was bad at photographing food.  Look at those little turd cookies.  Don’t they look tasty?

Just look at this next one.  Blah.  That’s how MY muffins look, not how they should look in a cookbook.  The recipe doesn’t even look too bad:

Sugar-Top Muffins

1 c. all-purpose flour

1 c. quick-cooking oats

3/4 c. packed brown sugar

3/4 tsp. baking powder

3/4 tsp. baking soda

1 beaten egg

3/4 c. milk

1/3 c. cooking oil

1/2 c. chopped walnuts

Cinnamon sugar

In a medium mixing bowl stir together all-purpose flour, quick-cooking rolled oats, brown sugar, baking powder, and baking soda.  Make a well in the center.

In a small mixing bowl combine egg, milk, and cooking oil.  Add all at once to the flour mixture.  Stir just till moistened (batter should be lumpy).  Stir in the walnuts.

Lightly grease muffin pans or line with paper bake cups.  Fill two-thirds full with batter.  Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar.  Bake in a 375° oven for 18 to 20 minutes or till golden.  Remove from pans.  Serve warm.  Makes 12 muffins.

Note: Batter may be made up to 1 week in advance.  Store better in a tightly covered container in the refrigerator.  Stir before using.  Bake as directed above.

Unfortunately the cookbook is loaded with such treats as:  Blueberry Bran Muffins, Carrot-Banana Wheat Bread, Date Pinwheels, Rhubarb Custard Pie, and Whole Wheat Carrot Bread.

Shudder, gag, gag, shudder.

But the best thing of all?  A realtor’s business card was taped to the inside of the book.  No doubt that my parents’ realtor presented them, or more specifically my mom, with this book when they purchased my childhood home.

I love the website Unclutterer. It has helped me immensely in paring down my possessions and organizing them.  I still have more to do, but the bulk of the job is done.

However, the name of the site drives me crazy.  ”Uncluttered” should be the adjective:  The room is uncluttered.  ”Declutter” should be the verb tense:  I’m decluttering my apartment.  And, of course, “declutterer” should be the noun:  I was once a disorganized pack rat, but now I’m a declutterer.

The dictionary (kind of, sort of) agrees with me.

uncluttered adj : not cluttered <an ~ desk>

There’s no entry for “decluttered”, but I’ll take what I can get.

In my job, I’ve gotten used to most of the words and phrases I see on a daily basis:  premises liability, National Board of Trial Advocacy vs. American Board of Trial Advocates, Martindale-Hubbell not Hubble.  But I do have to keep on my toes and look out for problems that I’ve never seen before.

One example I saw the other day:  breech vs. breach.  A client tried to use “breech” when talking about breach of responsibility.  Just to review:

breech n 1 a : short pants covering the hips and thighs and fitting snugly at the lower edges at or just below the knee b : PANTS 2 a : the hind end of the body : BUTTOCKS b : BREECH PRESENTATION; also : a fetus that is presented breech first 3 : the part of a firearm at the rear of the barrel

1 breach n 1 : infraction of violation of a law, obligation, tie, or standard 2 a : a broken, ruptured, or torn condition of area b : a gap (as in a wall) made by battering 3 a : a break in accustomed friendly relations b : a temporary gap in continuity : HIATUS 4 : a leap esp. of a whale out of water

2 breach vt 1 : to make a breach in <~ a wall> 2 : BREAK, VIOLATE <~ an agreement> ~ vi : to leap out of water <a whale ~ing>

From Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition

Fortunately I happened to notice there was something hinky about that phrase.  I just need to remind myself not to become complacent and to set up little reminders like these in my blog and style guide.

that I love this.  It’s Barbie’s 50th, and a bunch of designers (don’t know who and don’t care) created dresses, bathing suits, and more for fashion week.  I love the ’50s and ’60s designs, but the pink, frilly, and poofy designs bring back memories.

I must have the Mad Men dress (sans fur jacket).

Yesterday on Twitter I postulated that my refrigerator would be the next thing to go in my apartment.  It’s one thing after another in this crappy place, and it seems like, as soon as I get something fixed or fix it myself, something else breaks.  So, yesterday, the fridge wouldn’t stop running.  I thought it must be on its last legs until I realized that the freezer door was open just a crack.  Oops.  Well, that crisis averted, at least until this morning when my toilet decided to not stop running.

I tried tinkering with it today, since I figured the apartment manager wouldn’t want to call a plumber on a holiday anyway.  I checked the float ball to make sure it wasn’t waterlogged.  I  tried tightening and loosening the screws holding the float arm in place to see if that would help.  I turned off the water supply to make sure the flush valve wasn’t to blame.  Nada.  Finally I wound up flushing the toilet with the tank lid removed, and I noticed a stream of water shooting out the side of the intake valve.  What the hell?  I have never before seen anyone mention that as a potential problem in a toilet.  Never.  Just goes to show how old my apartment is.  I bet that intake valve hasn’t been replaced since the building was constructed 42 years ago.