my sister and me
As I’ve written before (see post “Breeding Red-heads“), my sister and I receive quite a number of comments on our red hair. These range from complementary to inappropriate, from harmless to creepy. I was starting to think I’ve heard at least one variation on most of the types of comments that people might make. This weekend, however, proved me wrong. My sister and I were visiting a Messianic group to spend Shabbat with them. The meeting hall for our regular church group has gotten so bad for my allergies that I can’t go back until they find a new building (I only stayed 10 minutes last time, and still my sister had to drive me home). I don’t want to be without fellowship, though, so I’m visiting other local Sabbath-keeping groups. Anyway,we were talking with a man who’d just introduced himself, and the conversation turned to our hair. There was much chattering and background noise, so I’m not entirely sure I caught all the conversation, but here’s the gist of what he said:
It’s so nice to see red-heads. So rare. Did you meet Emily? Yes? she dyed her hair red when we heard redheads will be extinct by 2050. To show she supported you. We never meet many red-heads you know? and now you are here, it’s a sign. For Jews, things happen in threes. Signs, you know? So Emily dying her hair was the first sign, and now two red heads appear here in our group. You are a sign!
Well, that’s the first time I’ve been called a sign. I have no idea what we might be a sign of, but he seemed pretty positive that’s what we were. (BTW, the red-head extinction theory is — thankfully — bogus.)
Weigh Station: CLOSED
I drove over 1,000 miles last weekend on the way to and from visiting a dear friend. On the way, I had ample opportunity to muse about the complexities and mysteries of life, including weigh stations.
You know what I mean — those little places along highways ostensibly built as “a checkpoint along a highway to inspect vehicular weights” (according to Wikipedia). But they’re never open. There’s usually a sign that says “weigh station” and then in glowing letters it says “closed.” I think prior to this trip I’d seen only one that was open and had a truck driving into it. Coming home I did see a weigh station sign with glowing letters that said “open,” but I never saw the weigh station. Very mysterious if you ask me.
And yes, I did do my research on this and found out about the electronic bypass systems with scales embedded in the road so trucks can be weighed without actually entering the weigh station. But the weigh stations are still there, mostly closed from what I’ve seen, and I wonder what they might be used for. Here are my top theories:
- They are entrances to secret government facilities, hiding in plain sight like the purloined letter. And being a weigh station, even an out-of-use one, means no one would think it too terribly odd if a truck drove in and delivered secret something or others.
- The entire weigh station thing is a cover for an alien invasion. They landed here and set up weigh stations, edited Wikepedia, and no one noticed because everyone assumed the stations were someone else’s jurisdiction.
- 42. It’s the answer to life, the universe, and everything, so I’m assuming that includes weigh stations.
- They actually are what they claim to be, but have now been taken over by some kind of secret organization. I’m picturing men in floor-length cloaks with masks whispering “What’s the password?” and speaking in Latin.
view from my car of a closed weigh station I passed on the way home
Personally, I’m leaning toward number 2. But that might just be because I’m starting to get excited about Falling Skies coming back on the 22nd.
What are your off-the-wall or so-strange-it-just-might-be-real theories? Doesn’t have to be about weigh stations — could be anything that has the potential to be far more interesting than most people assume.
I love having red hair. But there are times when I wish it wasn’t quite so unusual. No one walks up to other girls and says, “Wow, your hair is brunette” or “Your hair is so blond.” As if I didn’t already know I have red hair. Hair stylists tell me they have clients who would kill for my hair color (which is kinda creepy if you think about it– red hair isn’t that amazing).
The most awkward comments are those about how rare red hair is becoming. The first one I remember happened when I was only seven or eight years old and an elderly couple told my red-haired sister and me that we needed to marry red-headed men so we could preserve the red-head population. I’ve heard these types of comments several times since then, but the most awkward has to be the one we received last week.
My sister and three friends were about to jump out of a plane (don’t worry, they had parachutes). I convinced myself it was okay to be cowardly and tag along just to take pictures (after all, think how many books you could buy for the cost of a skydive!). We were all standing in the hanger, waiting on the instructors, when a guy who might have been in his 60s walked up to the desk. He looked over at my sister and I and commented on our red hair. But he wasn’t content to stop there, and continued by saying how rare red-heads are becoming. I braced myself for the inevitable comment about red-headed babies, but wasn’t quite ready for him to shout, “You should breed!”
I think my face turned as red as my hair.
I may have discovered compelling Biblical evidence to support the old saying, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
While reading Song of Solomon this morning, I noticed that my study Bible had a note that “Thou hast ravished my heart” (Song 4:9) could also be translated “Thou hast taken away my heart.” I thought oh, that’s so cute, and looked up the Hebrew word. According to the lexical aids in my Bible, lâvav (H3823) can also mean “to be wise, be intelligent (Job 11:12); to make cakes (2Sam. 13:6, 8).”
So, what I’m getting from this is that it is wise to bake cakes and thereby capture a man’s heart.
I have tried this approach in the past, to no avail. I comfort myself by thinking this is due to the lack of single men in the local church areas rather than a flaw in my cooking, and still have high hopes for my cheesecakes.
I’m particularly proud of this turtle cheesecake. You won’t find this particular recipe anywhere else, because it’s one of my own. A friend of mine talked me into trying Fazoli’s turtle cheesecake, and I promptly went online to try and find a similar recipe. After browsing recipe sites unsuccessfully for an hour, I decided I’d just come up with my own.
- 1 cup chocolate graham cracker crumbs
- ¼ cup melted butter
- 3 tablespoons caramel ice cream topping
Mix cracker crumbs and butter. Press into a greased 9-inch spring-form pan. Drizzle caramel over crust.
- 3 (8 oz) packages cream cheese, softened
- ¾ cup sugar
- 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla
- 3 eggs
Beat cream cheese, sugar and vanilla with mixer until well blended. Add eggs, 1 at a time, mixing on low speed after each just until blended. Pour over caramel layer in crust.
Bake at 350°F for 40 minutes or until center is almost set. Run knife around rim of pan to loosen cake; cool before removing rim.
- 3 tablespoons hot fudge
- 3 tablespoons caramel syrup
- ¼ cup chopped pecans
- ¼ cup semi-sweet chocolate morsels
Melt hot fudge and drizzle with caramel syrup over cooled cheese cake. Sprinkle with pecans and chocolate morsels. Refrigerate 4 hours.