
Anyone who has ever shared a meal with my husband is accustomed to the familiar, “Tea please. Earl Grey. With honey.”
Everywhere. He could be at a diner in Manchester, Tennessee with Dr. Jimmy and he will just assume that they will be able to accommodate his needs.
So, when we happened upon this jovial honey vendor with the very creative hive hat at the fabulous Dane County Farmers’ Market on opening day, it only seemed fitting to ask if he would pose with Gary. (Gary is such a good sport. Actually, I think he loves this shit). I little plug for Marsden’s Pure Honey since this honey man was so willing to allow us to take his picture.
Of course we purchased a pack of honey sticks so I could carry them in my bag in the event that a restaurant does not have honey.
Always fun when you dine with us.
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For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.


It could have been a case of Woody Allen style Jewish paranoia, or perhaps it was simply a loss of hearing combined with a little too much to drink. But last weekend, while enjoying a weekend birthday celebration for a friend, her sister mistook the word ‘Cheez-Its’ for ‘Jesus’. We were staying at a resort that was short on Jews and I think the atmosphere led her to start hearing everything with a sort of Christian filter.
Packing.
The whole experience made me think about twitter users, both newbies and power users. This line of thinking spawned:
and
If you would be so kind, please jump over to 

