Apple Foot

Recently Misinterpreted: Non-Verbal Edition

Bertucci's had a new scallops and spaghetti dish I tried a couple nights ago. Since it was hot when it got to the table, I figured I'd start with a small scallop, less likely to scorch my mouth.

The scallop was... pasty, granular almost. Entirely the wrong texture. And while the taste wasn't foul, it was definitely not in the least scallop-y.

I'm thinking, oh, shit, the scallops have gone completely bad! I'm already trying to figure out the best way to call this to the server's attention, and I'm trying to decide if I should pro-actively vomit the small bit I've already eaten so as to prevent food poisoning, when I realize:

that was a roasted garlic clove.

Evelyn Rothwell

I hadn't even realized she was still alive.

So, of course, I'm listening to the Barbirolli Society's Oboe Concertos (vol 2).

I wish I'd known more oboe music my first time around, back in high school. I think the only famous oboist I'd heard of back then was Heinz Holliger, and I didn't particularly care for his style. I'd've especially been interested in a lady who made her name in classical music so many years ago, when the few females in orchestras tended to be harpists. And I like her tone. Wish I'd had her recording of the Marcello concerto when I was trying to prep the hideous thing for regional try-outs.

Aging

We've all noticed that time passes faster as we get older. The classic example is summer vacation: when you were eight or ten, it lasted forever. Now I think, "How did it get to be October?"

I've gotten used to the fact that years slide by ever more quickly. In the last few weeks, though, I've realized that it doesn't take nearly as long for a pot of water to boil as it used to.