Outside of Sweden, they are grown Minnesota and Canada mostly. They are a staple of Swedish cooking.
Posted on 03/15/2013 6:39:09 AM PDT by tioga
Jailer.....and who are you....?
Russell....I am Bertrand Russell the philosopher.
Jailer.....And what do you do...?
Russell....I COGITATE
Jailer.....Well then...take this toothbrush and COGITATE cleaning out those latrines.
Outside of Sweden, they are grown Minnesota and Canada mostly. They are a staple of Swedish cooking.
I eat minimal carbs and only drizzle a taste of syrup. Limit myself to half a waffle or a slice of toast with a trace of jelly. I don’t really care, I just need to taste it.
I like the hat. I need one of those.
I use the sugar free syrup now.
You might as well fast! Which brings up a question on which to cogitate: If you already are eating almost nothing, how much to you need to cut back to qualify for a fast?
When I fast I use a diet shake to make it more real. I like to chew food at my meals, so doing that is a sacrifice. I usually do it early in the week. Sometimes as long as three days of using shakes. I do eat one light meal sometimes then shakes for the other 2 meals, too. The shakes keep me from getting light-headed or too weak, they taste awful, so I feel so righteous doing that. LOL
At home I use the real maple syrup, which is really less sweet than those fake ones they have in restaurants. I warm it in a little dish and only dip my waffles or pancakes in it. Works for me.
I does look like a nice hat. One of the waitresses at my fav diner had a pair of capri pants on with green and white striped knee highs with black shoes. She looked like a leprechaun. Made me laugh when I saw her. They’ve all been wearing green all week.
An Irish friend sent this to me today...
WHAT IT MEANS TO BE IN AN IRISH FAMILY
1) You will never play professional basketball.
2) You swear very well.
3) At least one of your cousins is a fireman, cop, bar owner, funeral home owner or holds political office.
4) You think you sing very well.
5) You have no idea how to make a long story short!
6) There isn’t a big difference between you losing your temper or killing someone.
7) Many of your childhood meals were boiled. Instant potatoes were a mortal sin.
8) You have at least one aunt who is a nun or an uncle a priest.
9) You spent a good portion of your childhood kneeling in prayer.
10) You’re strangely poetic after a few beers.
11) Some punches directed at you are from legacies of past generations.
12) Many of your sisters and/or cousins are named Mary, Catherine or Eileen .... and there is at least one member of your family with the full name of Mary Catherine Eileen.
13) Someone in your family is very generous ... it is most likely you.
14) You may not know the words, but that doesn’t stop you from singing.
15) You can’t wait for the other guy to stop talking before you start talking.
16) You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are... but what you lack in talent, you make up for in frequency.
17) There wasn’t a huge difference between your last wake and your last keg party.
18) You know someone named Murph, Mic or Sully.
19) If you don’t, you are Murph, Mic or Sully.
20) You are genetically incapable of keeping a secret.
21) You have Irish Alzheimer’s... you forget everything but the grudges!
22) ‘Irish Stew’ is a euphemism for ‘boiled leftovers.’
23) Your skin’s ability to tan .... not so much. (Only in spots!)
24) Childhood remedies for the common cold often included some form of whiskey.
25) There’s no leaving a family party without saying goodbye for at least 45 minutes.
26) At this very moment, you have at least two relatives who are not speaking to each other. Not fighting mind you, just not speaking to each other.
I don’t know about #1 (obviously the write of this never saw some of the kids at my sons’ Jesuit high school), but #26 is right on the mark! I know one family where the parents did not speak for over a year. They’ve both passed now, but some of their 6 kids aren’t speaking to each other to this day.
Cogitate
The process of becoming a codger...No, wait...that’s the process of becoming a cod, codgertate....But cod-ger-tater is the guy who makes fish and chips at Yer Lardships Eatery.
Cogitate...Thinking about being a cog?
Maybe this idea of not speaking to each other comes from the same place as the rule my Irish grandmother passed on to me: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Somehow, I didn’t think she meant not to speak to your spouse for a full year, but who knows?
Maybe this idea of not speaking to each other comes from the same place as the rule my Irish grandmother passed on to me: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Somehow, I didn’t think she meant not to speak to your spouse for a full year, but who knows?
My sister is named “Colleen” which is even more Irish!
And I object to number 16. I am every bit as funny as I think I am.
I liked a lot of those Irish-isms... lol
In the days when babies were born at home (1889), my Irish great grandfather took my grandmother (#11 of 13) down to the church to be Baptized. Upon his return, my English great grandmother asked “What did you name the baby?” “Bridget Amelia” replied my great grandfather. “I’ll not have a child named Bridget” replied my English great grandmother, so we’ll call her “Meelie” (short for Amelia) and to differentiate from my great grandmother whose name was also Amelia.
When grandma got to school, the nuns did not like nicknames, so they changed her name to Mildred, and she used that name the rest of her life. I know this is true because a few years ago I looked up her Baptismal certificate in the church records in central Pennsylvania, and there it was, written in Latin, of course.
Funny thing...several of her sisters also were Baptized with the name Bridget. I wonder if Great Grandmother ever knew?
My dad had a nun in school once who insisted his name was “Jerome.” He went by “Jerry,” after his middle name “Gerald.”
No. You’re not. : )
No. You’re not. : )
There was a time when priests would arbitrarily assign a Saint’s name to any child presented for Baptism who did not already have one.
When I expressed suprise to a deacon once about a chid Baptized with the name “Madison”, he replied “There may be a Saint Madison. We just don’t know about it yet.”
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