Foto Friday: This Moment (on Saturday)

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. -SouleMama

I Love This: Bananagrams

I am a Werd Nerd.

I love crosswords and word searches and even fill-ins.  I play the letter games on My Baby.  My second favorite game on Pogo.com is Word Whomp.  I play a mean Perquacky, Mad Gab, Last Word and Balderdash.

I despise, however, Scrabble.  People who recognize my love of language are sometimes surprised by this fact.

Here's my beef with Mr. A.M. Butts and his 1938 invention: I can come up with a b-e-a-Utiful word.  Use all my letters.  Even use a J.  BUT THERE IS NOWHERE ON THE BOARD TO PLAY IT.  So there it sits, turn after turn being scavenged to form "jet," "help" and "tide."  Yawn.  No one will ever know the brilliance sitting here, full of hope, in my letter tray, waiting for its chance to leap onto the Triple Word Box.  Rats.

Enter: Bananagrams!  The free-form Scrabble-like game in a banana bag.  Excellent!  Here's why I love this game:

1. Go at your own pace: you're not holding anyone up by trying to think of a word using your X.  Take all the time you need!

2. Clicky ivory-like tiles.  Very tactile.  I'm all about tactile.

3. No one's words are IN YOUR WAY.

4. No silly colored squares to trifle with.

5. No math.  Really. (well, unless you are going with tournament-style, and then I guess you track how many tiles the loser(s) have left).

6. PORTABILITY.  Big for me: tidy packaging.  No standard-sized board game box under your arm, announcing: "We are about to engage in a terribly annoying game that will take at least an hour!" as you walk into the room.  Nope, slide this puppy into a coat pocket and you can be Stealth Word Monger.

7. Quality: Yes, it's possible the zipper could die on the banana.  But you could just toss the letters into something fabulous like this.  What happens when you get coffee on the Scrabble board? a trip to Toys R Us.

8. Semi-even playing field: you don't have to know all the three-letter words that start with "e" to play your last tile.  You simply make what you know, and if you get stuck, you pull apart some other word and make something different.  If you don't naturally think of words like "conveyance," "naturalist" and "garbanzo," you can stick with "chairs," "package," and "train."  No problem.

I am a Bananagramma Mamma-Jamma.

Random

I feel compelled to add today: When I was growing up, I poured over the Calvin and Hobbes anthologies we had around the house.  My parents were big fans, too.  So much so that this became part of our family vernacular:

Slippinrippindangfangrottenzargbargadingdong.

It's what Calvin's dad, dressed as Santa, said when he stubbed his toe? trying to do something quiet and Santa-like.  Thought it was so funny I memorized it.  It's a good one to have in your bag of tricks, so that at least one of your 85 swear words (see previous post) are hilarious and make you laugh :)

Fun Fact: 85 = the number of taboo or swear words spoken, per day, by the average English speaker.

Foto Friday: This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. -SouleMama

Fun Fact: Banging your head against a wall burns 150 calories an hour.

Works For Me: UnPaper Towels

I recycle. I go easy on electricity. I try to buy items with minimal (read: small, tidy) packaging. I use reusable bags at the grocery store.

I still hate CFL bulbs.

You can pry my "carbon credits" from my cold, dead hands.

So my choice to ditch the paper towel habit, although seemingly ecologically motivated, is truly due to only one kind of green -- the cha-ching kind.

A year ago we had no kitchen, and no running water on the first floor. FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR. I was able to cook in the oven (located conveniently in my dining room) and microwave (see above). All this was only a few steps away from the fridge ... you get the picture. No water on the first floor meant washing dishes in a utility sink in the basement. You know, the kind into which a washing machine drains.

I donned the martyr robe but not the pants; I lugged down pots, pans, coffee mugs and serving spoons, but we used disposable plates, bowls, cups and utensils. For. A. Year. I contributed personally to deforestation, and the amount of trash we generated in that time ... scandalous!

Because we had no running water, sticky fingers and table cleaning and all other general cleaning was done with paper towels. I bought WATER, too, by the gallons, and made my own wipes. When paper towels were on sale and I had coupons, I stocked up. When I discovered the lovely softness of Viva towels, my heart went pitterpat; where had these been all my life?

But then, as we started PAYING for the new kitchen, I started trying to think of ways to cut back. What purchases were habit, that I could rethink? Not just avoiding the impulse buy, or putting off the big-ticket purchase till we could pay cash, but what little things were bit-by-bit biting us in the tush? I use coupons faithfully, I look for sales, try to match it all up ... but what could I just stop buying?

Paper towels.

Unpaper towels: Made In The Red Barn

I replaced my upright paper towel holder with a Towel House from etsy.com.  Rationale: it would be hard to kick the paper towel habit.  I didn't need a full-sized microfiber cloth for the little wipe ups.  I didn't want to wipe down a sticky face with a dish rag.  So one day, instead of reaching for the paper, I was pulling out one of these babies ------->.

I still love the feel of Viva towels, and give them (especially in select-a-size) a hearty thumb up.  I have an emergency roll under the sink for bodily functions TP can't handle, putting over bacon in the microwave, and drying out my cast iron pans.  That's it.  It's practically buried under the sink, and hence, I don't use it.

Going cloth in lieu of paper.  It works for me.