Going all glassy-eyed

So do you remember my glass straws?

The ones I got from glass dharma, that I told you about in a recent post?

Well.

Because I was so utterly pleased with my order, I sent the folks at glass dharma an email.

I just wanted to thank them for not only a spectacular product, but for fast shipping and for the courteous and respectful way in which they interact with the customer.

You would have to receive an order from glass dharma to really know what I'm talking about.

Most likely you're already aware of the fact that I place a high premium on stellar customer service.

You know. The kind you don't get at Wal-Mart.

Where they don't even sell glass straws.

Anyway, included in my email to glass dharma was a link to the blog post in which I told you about my new straws.

I thought the folks who make the straws (right here in the USA) would like to read it.

Within a few hours I received a reply from a lady in the marketing department at glass dharma.

She thanked me for my email and told me they'd put a link to my blog post on their Facebook page.

(Happy, Hobbit? I'm finally "on" Facebook. Sort of.)

The lady was also very complimentary of my photos and asked permission to add them to glass dharma's Flickr photostream.

I wrote back that I'd be honored.

She asked for my address and mentioned sending me some samples.

I thought that was very cool but in all honesty I wasn't sure she really would.

Until yesterday when, to my surprise and delight, another small, sturdy, rectangular box arrived with the mail.

The package was from glass dharma.

It contained the generous gift of four more straws -- each in their own cute color-coded box, two of which included a size-specific cleaning brush -- in various styles, widths, and lengths.

Well shut my mouth.

At least, until it's time to sip freshly-juiced fruit or a hearty green monster veggie drink through one of these adorable glass creations.

I am a trifle enamored of my straws.

They sent me one of their "beautiful bends" -- pure genius, so classy -- in addition to another wide-mouth version like the ones I already had, only shorter, and two sizes of the kind with decorative dots.

One with amber dots and one with red.

Oh my soul, I'm wild about those dotted straws. I wanted some when I placed my order but practicality won out.

People.

Christmas is coming at us like a runaway locomotive that ate its weight in Wheaties.

Somebody on your giftie list would love to have a set of glass straws, or even a single stunning straw for their personal use.

You can even buy them a custom-made sleeve to protect their straw! I don't have one of those yet.

Trust me. I would be promoting these even if glass dharma hadn't sent me free merchandise.

So click on over to glass dharma : the original glass straw and pick out some presents.

Don't forget to buy one or two for yourself.

And please do remember to tell 'em Jenny, that glass-straw-sippin' pirate blogger, sent you.

Long live capitalism.

If wishes were horses then beggars would ride

Audrey sent me this:

Hey! Where are the other three trillion pens?

Never mind. He signed it.

Toad and re-toad

So the other night I was in the pool rather later than usual.

In fact it was getting dark but I was having such a good time, I kept splashing around.

Then I got still and was sort of floating when something brushed past my face.

It didn't scare me but I craned my neck to see what it was anyway.

A little toadfrog was swimming away from me, kicking his legs for all his might toward the edge.

I went after him to help him out, but he'd skedaddled and I couldn't find him.

Until the next day when I spotted him -- well, I think it was him -- riding the wavelets, limbs akimbo, digits splayed, waterlogged and motionless.

He must've given up shortly before I got there because the filter hadn't had time to claim his carcass.

By the way, that picture at the top?

That's not him. That there is a toad from earlier in the summer.

No postmortem photos were taken of the late latest frog.

Maybe next time.

Watching the glass glow

Not sure if you know this about me: I love glass.

I like to handle and use and look at items -- whether functional or merely decorative -- made of glass.

When it comes to dishes, I don't like plastic things to eat off of or drink out of.

Also I draw the line at cups made of styrofoam or cardboard, which only touch my lips in an emergency.

(Like for example, my Krispy Kreme coffee from last week? When we got home it went straight into my Shakespearean Insults mug.)

I don't like to store or reheat food in plastic. I prefer glass refrigerator dishes.

Although I own plastic plates and bowls and tumblers and storage ware, I keep such nonsense to a minimum.

And I always reach for those dishes last although certain members of my family seem to reach for them first.

Which always perplexes me.

Anyway, something else I enjoy is drinking from a straw.

And since I have a smoothie every morning for breakfast and drink various freshly-juiced vegetable concoctions throughout the day, I tend to use my lone heavy-duty plastic straw (it came with my blue plastic sippy jug), more or less constantly.

But not anymore. I've gone totally organic.

Last week I had my consciousness raised to an outfit in California called glass dharma. They make gorgeous, durable glass straws.

So I ordered a set of the ten-inch, 12 mm ones.

Handmade in the USA.

And I do believe I'm in love.

The story is that they're made of borosilicate, the safest and strongest glass available commercially. And the set I ordered came with their own special cleaning brush.

My straws are tres elegant. So simple, so smooth, so clear, so perfectly cylindrical! Things of classic beauty.

Even Claudine became instantly enamored of the straws. She's still clutching one and for now I'm humoring her.

Guess what? If you break one of your straws, glass dharma will repair or replace it. All you have to do is send it back.

And now it is time for a refreshing beverage ... freshly-juiced carrots, I think, with a granny smith apple and a whole lemon thrown in for extra nom-nomminess.

Sipped from a tall glass mug through a tall glass straw.

Thank you, glass dharma.

Un-presidented

"Just waitin' here ..."

And waitin' and waitin' and waitin' ...

People.

Not to be disrespectful to the office of POTUS or anything, but c'mon.

I mean, they say silence is golden and everything but when your entire administration and everything you stand for is pot metal? The absence of words when there should be words only makes it worse.

Coming from me -- one who normally slaps my hands over my ears and goes lalalalalalalalala really loudly whenever Barry Soetoro speaks -- this is a significant complaint.

But seriously ... where are we when the leader of the free world is on live television being watched by gazillions of viewers and for more than a minute he says nothing?

The squirrels lolling on branches in the oak tree in my front yard at any given moment on any given day have more to say than that.

His detractors liked to call Bush 43 "Dumbya" but honestly folks, at least Dubya would have had a corny joke handy to fill the time until the TelePrompTer was loaded or the producer was ready or what have you.

Something to pass the time, as it were.

Because even if he didn't necessarily always appear to be the sharpest quill in the porcupine, at least George W. Bush was a real person. An authentic man and a genuine American.

But Dear Leader? Let's just say it's difficult to know what's emptier: the suit or the soul.

Oh! Y'all! Watch Buhrock's face when the guy in the audience yells "Awkward!"

Who in their right mind registers not even the slightest outward sign of dismay at such a time?

And what is with the zombie-faces of the people seated behind the President, all acting as though this sort of behavior is normal?

I'm telling you.

Liberalism = mental illness.

This here is your proof, once and for all.

NOBAMA 2012