Friday, April 10, 2009

The return of Mrs. Davila

Mrs. Davila is one popular lady. I--or rather, she--got another call the other day:

fundraiser woman: Hello, this is so-and-so from such-and-such charity. May I speak to Mrs. Davila, please?

me: I'm sorry, there's no one here by that name.

FW: Oh, my apologies, she must have had your number previously.

me: That's okay. Have a nice--

FW: Wait, while I have you on the phone, are you the lady of the house?

me: I am.

FW: As I said, I'm so-and-so from such-and-such charity, and we're asking for your support--

me: I'm sorry, I don't make donations over the phone. Please take my number, and Mrs. Davila, off your list. Bye.


Thursday, April 09, 2009

2009 Report on My Balls

Okay, I admit: I totally neglected this blog for five months. I kept thinking how I really ought to post things, and then I never did, and I really have no excuse for leaving you, dear reader, high and dry for so long--

--except that in the meantime I've been running after a 1-year-old (who is newly walking!), getting dressed up three times a week like a therapist again and being paid nicely for it besides, and finding myself trapped in the time-sucking vortex that is Facebook. Yes, despite my insistence that it would be bad for me professionally to be on any social networking sites, I signed up for Facebook. (And I play a mean game of Scramble, if I do say so myself.)

But this evening I decided it really was time to rejuvenate this blog. And what better subject than my balls?

As previously reported, my balls continue to be quite the awesome delicacy. This year, my balls are more dense than fluffy, although they are by no means cannon shot. The broth is half vegetable, half chicken, and is accented with slices of carrot. I'm proud to report that Tovah is a big fan of my balls.

On that note, Mrs. Gerbil and I realized that this is really the last year that we can talk about my balls. We fear that Tovah (who is already frighteningly intelligent and possessed of a weird sense of humor) will tell her preschool teachers that her favorite food is Mommy's balls. So, starting next year, we will be having plain old matzo balls on Passover. But this year I shall feel free to wax especially rhapsodic about my balls--at least until the leftovers are gone.