Speaking of tropical things, here's that warm weather post in the dead of winter. How did it get here so fast?!
To celebrate/commemorate/hibernate, I made this Rainbow Palms Brooch Barrette, which features twin palm trees on a stretch of strawberry-lemon sand, a rainbow rising between them. Can you say Calgon, take me away? (Unlike the ocean, Calgon lacks sea lice and sewage.)
When I was little, I used to like that song "(Put the Lime in the) Coconut." I still sing it in my head whenever a big boatload of fruit loot washes ashore (which happens more often than you might think). But these days I should be singing about putting the lime in the raspberry. Because not too long ago, a retailer that shall remain nameless dropped off three cases of sparkling water -- one lime, one cherry, and one raspberry-lime -- that I didn't order. It was mixed in with the stuff I did order, though, so I just shrugged and put it in the pantry. Now, before you go all citizen's arrest, I should point out that one of my orders from this same store was once delivered to someone else, and yet another order was never delivered at all. Needless to say, this place is now dead to me. But when it came to the free drinks, I chalked it up to a round of retail roulette. (My apologies if I've said this already; it's tough to tell what I've broadcasted and what I haven't with the incessant inner monologue that is quarantine brain.) You know how it is with online food shopping. Sometimes another household gets your Friday night frozen pizza and ice cream, and sometimes you get some stranger's spray butter (true story on both accounts, although I've yet to try the butter.) You win some, you lose some, and it all comes out in the wash. Just like Barbara Boxer says about dry cleaner mix-ups during that (but aren't they all?) cringeworthy confrontation with Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm. No, she will not support legislation to return patrons' lost garments because the pants she's wearing aren't even hers! Anyway, I don't like sparkling water. No matter what flavor it is, it always tastes like a fruit salad farted into an exhaust pipe. So, to use it up, I mix it with limeade and maraschino cherry juice, and it isn't half bad. Because what doesn't give you diabetes makes you stronger -- and less likely to eviscerate some poor Shipt driver on Yelp.
In honor of no-show groceries everywhere, I'll leave you with this: Missing milk carton on a milk carton. Think about that for five seconds.