This husband and wife team also have a number of other great books, all starring kick-ass women willing to go to any lengths to save what needs saving.
The writing is excellent, the plots fresh and unpredictable in the best ways, and the characters, even the bad ones, are complex and well-drawn. (The authors are particularly adept at helping readers understand, and at times forgive, even the darkest characters.)
What’s not to love?
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So when I decided it was time to learn how to make a vintage-style travel postcard, I thought of Atlanta. Not the vibrant city it is now, but as Kate sees it after magic returns to the world, complete with mysterious denizens, vampire Casinos, witch jungles, shapeshifter Keeps, ruins and one lone high rise.
Today in things I like: Here’s an item I did not know existed before I moved to Canada: the electronic mosquito swatter.
The Zapper
You may know that mosquitoes are annoying;) This year has been pretty good* but even one mosquito indoors at night can be disruptive. (If you’re me, anyway. Mr. Man is born and bred Canadian and is mostly unfazed by even the largest of blood suckers. )
And I’m trying to be more tolerant outside. Inside? No.
Cue the swatter. Its mesh displaces less air than a standard fly swatter and also sends a current through the wires. Any mosquito or other biting insect caught in the layers is toast. Sometimes literally.
Seriously, don’t activate this thing while touching it.
Zip zap, all done.
As penance, I put the mosquito corpses outside so that something, somewhere might benefit.
* That’s good and bad. Good, because it means fewer giant, itchy welts, bad because the dry Spring that led to fewer mosquitoes has a lot of follow-on effects, for insects, the birds and other animals who eat them, plants, trees, and of course, us humans.
If you’ve ever wondered what Jane Austen ate, or if the menus in her books were true to life, this is the link for you. Here’s the book the article highlights.
And if you’ve ever thought about what life was like on the other side of the scullery door, check out Longbourn by Jo Baker.
In this irresistibly imagined belowstairs answer to Pride and Prejudice, the servants take center stage. Sarah, the orphaned housemaid, spends her days scrubbing the laundry, polishing the floors, and emptying the chamber pots for the Bennet household. But there is just as much romance, heartbreak, and intrigue downstairs at Longbourn as there is upstairs.
I found the world below-stairs fascinating, and not just because I’m the sort of person who likes to learn about practical and medicinal plant properties, or what chilblains felt like.
It’s good to give every person a chance to be the main character, you know?
It’s Tuesday and there’s a nasty storm coming (heavy rain and powerful winds with a potential side of hail and tornadoes, so that’s fun). Is it time to take a trip to the virtual used spaceship lot?
Who knew the Halo Pelican was almost the size of the Millennium Falcon? (Also, with apologies to Mr. Bezos and Sir Richard Charles Nicholas Branson, but yours are definitely not the biggest!).
Today might be crap. Wake to rain, the car won’t start and the kid’s hamster is under the weather too.
You’re out of coffee.
Steam builds and you dash headlong toward the Scylla of anger and the Charybdis of self-doubt. You seriously consider a cup of despair.
The boss asks you to step in last-minute for the most important meeting of the year or the kid’s hamster dies or it really is uphill both ways or (fill in the blank here) and you think, “I just… can’t.”
As I’ve mentioned, I sometimes see the world a little sideways. It helps me find the fun in functional and the butterfly in the weeds. It also means that some days, a perfectly normal breakfast can turn into something a little more elaborate.
I mean, there I was this morning, producing multiple batches of colored liquid: bananas and tofu, spinach and avocado and green tea, blueberries and strawberries and cranberry juice, hemp seed and turmeric and more. It’s paint by any other name. And so, smoothie art.
Editor’s Note: That isn’t a typo in the title. Well, it was a typo when I named the original file, but it was funny and my brain is mostly off at this point so I kept it.
I tried a new photo-to-oil-paint method today. The technique is straightforward, if time-consuming, but I can tell I’m not an actual painter. The arm and face are a little weird but my eyes have gone wonky and I’ve started thinking seriously about adult beverages, so this is what we’re going with today!
With apologies to whoever made the fine costume I blurred out, I give you “Portrait of a Mandalorian Primcess.”
* Editor’s Note: Welcome to Lunchtime Clickbait, where we test oddly specific headlines establishing implausibly sweeping claims for oddly specific life strategies.
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Sure, it’s only been two days, but I can unequivocally say that smoked oysters have changed my life.
How do I know for sure that smoked oysters are the best thing since sliced bread? Well, three days ago I had ideas as usual, but little energy for action. Sure, I got my work done, but then, meh.
For the past two days we have had smoked oysters for dinner, and for the past two days I have had far more energy and verve than usual. I think the connection is obvious.
Yesterday? I did all of the things. Work, yes, but also house and writing and creative fun stuff. Also peaches.
Happily tucked away in the freezer, waiting to become sorbet.
Today I’ll do that and more, and I’m sure that it’s all because of the smoked oysters. What’s not to love?
Will smoked oysters work for you? Maybe, and unless you have a shellfish allergy, they can’t hurt.
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Now, do I wish they didn’t come in cans designed to slice my fingers when taking them to the recycling bin? I do, but I also have a solution.
I mean sure, you could still cut yourself if you tried hard enough. So maybe don’t?
And many of the readily available options are from halfway around the globe, but it would be great if increasing local popularity also encouraged more local production.
Still not convinced that smoked oysters are right for you? What else does a sweeping claim for dramatic outcomes based on one small lifestyle change need for maximum reputability?
A Top Ten List, of course!
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Top Ten Reasons to Eat Smoked Oysters
10. They are great on salads, on pasta, in soups, on picnics, or straight from the can when you don’t have time for niceties like plates.
9. Canned, they are shelf stable to the Apocalypse and beyond.
8. Oysters purify water, are terrific for shoreline health, contribute to restorative aquaculture, and in a well-managed fishery are a great addition to a sustainable food system.
7. They remind me that the history of cities like New York is tied to the oyster.
6. Smoked oysters give an average day a bit of fancy dancy je ne sais quoi.
5. Oysters are rich in protein, good fats, iron, zinc, and copper. Eating them makes me feel practically electric!
4. Smoking takes away that weird sliminess of raw oysters that some people love but, well, I don’t. (Although maybe I haven’t tried enough of the good stuff, like those from High on the Hog‘s TheRealMotherShuckers.)
3. I still have warm fuzzy feelings from childhood, sitting in the living room recliner, reading, and eating after-school oyster stew.
2. Lord, I don’t know, isn’t this list done yet?
And finally, the number one reason to eat smoked oysters…
1. They are affordable, accessible, and Costco sells these babies in eight-can packs!
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Yes, these oysters are the squishy kind, but the picture is pretty. Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
J.R. Johnson 
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