I know, you all (wait – isn’t that all y’alls?) are laughing. But I live way the heck up here next to an icebox for a reason. Well, many reasons, but the current one is that we don’t get very many 94-degree-days up here.

So, I’m hiding in my house next to the fan. I’m just off of work, and I’m in my power snacking mode. It’s too hot for toast, but I seriously am craving salt, so I break out the cottage cheese. There’s an innocent little tomato in there, so that gets whacked up. Oh, look! a bag of almond slices! Something crunchy to put on top. I didn’t really panic until I grabbed the pepper grinder and realized I was eating healthy food. Adult food.

I probably should explain. My mother was about as Scandinavian as you could get, except for the red hair. Her mother, my grandmother, was queen of the “sugar is the only seasoning you will ever need” school. I was 15 when I had my first taco. It was years before I thought green peppers weren’t spicy.

My dad had the pepper grinder.

The last several years of his life were spent watching his cholesterol. (Apparently the news about red meat hadn’t broken through yet.) I remember him having breakfast; cottage cheese with salmon and some kind of vegetable oil drizzled over the top of it, and a good hard grinding of pepper. And here I am nearly as old as he got (and don’t think I’m not reeeeeally aware of that), eating cottage cheese with pepper. Frequently with salmon. I don’t drizzle olive oil on it. That would be just too weird and scary.

And absolutely none of this is what I came here for today. What I wanted to say was, I was reading the comments on an article over at Echidne, and followed this link to an interview with Deborah Tannen, a linguist and author of several books including her newest, “You’re wearing that? Understanding mothers and daughters in conversation.” It turns out Tannen was a friend of the interviewer’s mother, and had this to say about the mom;

DT: Nancy used to say, “Do something to help another woman every day.” I’ve tried to do that.

I like this quote;

I want to help individual people in their lives, which is what feminism is all about.

Remember. Pass the E.R.A. and you get the flying cars. Don’t, and you get the flying monkeys.

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