DIY with The Fab Miss B: Gussy up those Dishtowels!

As I was packing up our house, I got a burst of creative energy. (Something about packing up all those craft supplies made me want to Use. Them. UP. Is it the same for you?) I decided to use some of my vast trim collection to gussy up some ordinary dish towels.

These are Dwell dishtowels from Target and I loved the look of them plain, but the addition of thrifted pom poms and crocheted daisies livened them up even more. (Have you ever noticed that second hand shops are a treasure trove of sewing notions? My favorite places make odds and ends into little grab bags for about $1. Usually there are just enough pom poms for a small project exactly like this.) And it was as simple as a whiz through the sewing machine.

Just as cute as the tea towels from Anthropologie, except I got 3 for $12 instead of 1 for $24. (This isn't my first post on this topic. I guess it's a pet peeve.) And I won't be afraid to get them dirty either. What have you gussied lately?

Oh Dear.

My conjecture is that the concoction above was originally sketched by some exasperated low on the totem pole designer as a cunning satire of the fickle fashion industry. Sadly, she lacked the courage to reveal the farce to the people in charge. Before she knew what was happening these Barbarella meets Lawrence of Arabia nightmares were put into production in a Taiwanese factory. The employees in charge of gluing them together thought "Gee, these seem as though they would be too hot and bulky for summer, simultaneously too exposed for fall and too hideous for anytime, but hey, what do we know about Western fancies?". Soon these cozy ankle warming sandals were boxed up and sent out into the world to shod people's feet. People who were, by the way, convinced that they were "in" on "it". So if irony is your thing, or you're looking for a Halloween costume, I think you've found your shoe. Also, it's called "The Huntress". Rawr!

Alarming Signs from Middle America

Just for fun, here are two signs we encountered on our drive from Sin City to the Twin Cities.



It's the use of quotations marks I find disturbing here.



This one smacks of nihilism, but perhaps that's just me.

Information Overload

I've written here before about my personal struggle with the internet as a powerful tool, but also as a Rabbit Hole in which one can free fall for hours, just like Alice.

This article insightfully assesses the massive surge of information and our corresponding poverty of attention. (Get ready to concentrate too, because, as if to challenge our abilities to focus, it's a long one!) Here is a quote to whet your appetite:

"What information consumes is rather obvious: It consumes the attention of its recipients. Hence, a wealth of information creates a poverty of attention, and a need to allocate that attention effectively among the overabundance of information sources that might consume it." -Herbert A. Simon

How do you handle the torrential flood of information that greets you when you sit down at your computer each morning? I'm considering setting strict time limits for my online tasks, though I know these will prove difficult to stick to.

Ms. Stewart, I'm in a Hazel-huff.

I was inspired to try making these Hazelnut Orange Rochers after spying them in a back issue of Martha Stewart Living. (After all, Ferraro Rochers are my all time favorite drugstore chocolates, and apparently "Rocher" means "Rock" in French. Who knew?) They were heavenly, but I have two bones to pick.

1) Blanch hazelnuts.

These instructions seem simple. It's two little words. Like "add egg" or "chop finely." Blanching hazelnuts is actually quite hellish. Oh yes, online they'll tell you that you just have to "toast at 350 for 20 minutes", then "rub vigorously with a coarse towel and skins will fall off". Ha. Not so. Not so at ALL.

What actually happens is that after toasting them, you burn your hands handling those hot little mothers. The skins are coming off- sorta- I guess. You refer back to the internet. It says "Don't worry if the skins don't all come off cleanly. A small amount won't hurt." Somehow, I doubt that Martha would agree. Plus, this doesn't look like a small amount to me. I mean, these little mothers are still mostly brown. So you toast them some more in the hopes the skins will continue to loosen. You pick out the successfully nudified ones and put them in a pie pan. Then you toast some more, watching like a hawk so they don't scorch. And so on and so forth. For several hours. By then you are too damn tired amd sweaty to finish the batter and are begining to suspect they would actually look nicer if you'd just skipped step one. (Half naked hazelnuts are quite ugly, people. Like little mangy beggars.) You go to bed in a huff.

The next day, refreshed by dreams of purchasing pre-blanched hazelnuts, you complete the batter. (Just dump it all in the Cuisenart, transfer to an airtight containger and refrigerate overnight. Cake compared to that blanching NONSENSE!)

On Day Three (THREE!), Martha explains that you should double up two cookie sheets to avoid scorching and put mounds of the (incredible smelling!) dough 1 inch apart, top with a single hazelnut, sprinkle with sugar and bake at 350 for 25- 30 minutes. This brings us to bone number two.

2) Martha says you'll have 52 cookies.

I ended up with 12. I guess she makes hers A LOT smaller than mine. They were really good. Really, really good. But I'd say there are a few teensy holes in this recipe. (I can't stay mad for long though. She's way to good. I just need a slight cooling off period.)

P.S) How do YOU blanch nuts? I'm in need of some new methodology.

Defending Make Do and Mend: A DIY Manifesto

The "Keep Calm and Carry On" poster from World War II era Britain is so popular my eyes burn when I see it. It's even become the subject of tender satire. But I've been thinking a lot lately about it's only slightly less well known cousin "Make Do and Mend".

Our culture of buy, use, and toss has wider implications for our pocket books, the environment and our national ethos. Do It Yourself isn't just about saving money, though that is a wonderful benefit. It's also about taking the time to consider a problem, being resourceful and self reliant. It also forces one to be more thoughtful about how one uses and disposes of things. In my opinion, careful thought is always worth cultivating.

In my office, there are three mirrored closet doors that have stubbornly refused to stay on the sliding tracks. It's been quite hazardous actually. Since I can't stand to look at the clutter of art supplies in my closet, I've had the doors propped against the closet opening. This has created steadily mounting chaos inside the closet, since I toss things in to avoid lifting the doors out of the way. There was also a greusome accident when one of the doors toppled over and cut E's arm.(It could have been much worse, but it was still scary.)

After we examined the doors, we discovered that the wheels on the bottom were snapped off. A trip to Home Depot with the offending parts and some screw driver wielding by E put things right. Admittedly, this is a small thing. But taking the time to asses the problem, find a solution, install it and see the resulting improvement in my daily life was immensely satisfying. I have a feeling I'll see a boost in productivity in my office as a direct result.

So while "Keep Calm and Carry On" has value, (who can't benefit from more deep breathing?) I'd argue that "Make Do and Mend" is even more relevant for my life right this second. Which concept has more relevance for you?

Suit up- The Battle over the CSPIA just got a little longer!

Exciting news about the CPSIA here. Looks like there will be another year to amend this law. There is still work to be done, but thankfully more time to do it. Keep at it!

The Law of Unintended Consequences: CPSIA

You may have heard rumblings about the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act and its potentially huge impact on businesses small and large that make products for children under 12. Today many bloggers are posting about this badly written law which will go into effect on February 10th.

Here's an excerpt from an excellent Forbes article on the subject.

"As CPSIA opponents mobilize, the phrase "unintended consequences" is often heard. Part of the irony, after all, is that the Hasbros and Targets, with their standardization and economies of scale, can afford to adapt to such rules as part of their business plan, while the sorts of enterprises that initially looked to benefit most from the Chinese toy scare--local, organic and so forth--are also the ones who find it hardest to comply.

But the failure here runs deeper. This was not some enactment slipped through in the dead of night: It was one of the most highly publicized pieces of legislation to pass Congress last year.

And yet now it appears precious few lawmakers took the time to check what was in the bill, while precious few in the press (which ran countless let's-pass-a-law articles) cared to raise even the most basic questions about what the law was going to require.

Yes, something's being exposed as systematically defective here. But it's not the contents of our kids' toy chests. It's the way we make public policy."

You can also read the full text of the law here. And here's a letter you can send your congressman. You could also buy an endangered handmade childrens item to show your support, like the beautiful hand painted onesies Amy and her sister make over at Green Seam.

Hell Cat

Otis is a big glossy cat with black fur. He has one white sock, a white belly and a skinny black tie running right down his middle. He has startled green eyes and spends his days bunkered down beneath the bed. The bed itself is worth noting. It’s from the big and clunky school of furniture design so popular in the seventies. Dark western inspired drawers and cupboards create storage underneath.

Upon our arrival here at the ranch, Otis immediately claimed the bed as his favorite hiding place. In fact, in the daylight, you wouldn’t even know we have a cat. Open the cupboard doors and let your eyes adjust to the darkness, and eventually his green eyes will come into focus.

He gazes at you disinterestedly, snuggled in among the socks , t-shirts and spare blankets. It looks quite cozy and no amount of coaxing will persuade him to come out. If you are really determined, shimmy in on your belly, grasp him by the scruff of his neck and pull him out- his body slack with reluctance. Then, block off the entrances to his cubby. Once he’s out, the place is full of sunny window sills to prowl, geraniums to munch and moths to chase.

It’s at night that he turns into a hellcat. The beautiful adobe house we are staying in has an open floor plan- one great big room with a slanted pine beam roof and plate glass windows that let the moonlight flood in. And no way to keep the hellcat out of our bed.

Most nights he’s content to tromp around investigating his surroundings. Sometimes he’ll even curl up and sleep at our feet. But, other nights, he gets restless.

It begins with a low wailing sound. He’ll jump onto the bed carrying his battered stuffed dingo in his jaws. He ripped its nose off long ago, and the creatures is in sad, unrecognizable shape. He wants you to throw it for him- oblige and he’ll bring it right back. Make it clear that you are not interested in playing fetch at three in the morning and he begins a restless circle across the bed. He leaps up and paces (behind the pillow if you are lucky, right across your head if you aren’t) across the bed and leaps down again. Again and again he repeats this pattern, moaning as he goes.

His night time agitation is understandable. After all, cats are nocturnal creatures that often sleep up to eighteen hours a day. So it figures that our sleep schedules won’t always mesh.

Initially, I try to maintain composure- perhaps because I am still half asleep. I try to calm him, pull him close to me, pet him. I shush him and soothe him, he begins to purr and eventually I drift back to sleep.

Plop! He has landed all his fifteen pounds right on my back. I am blasted awake and filled with a black fury. What is his problem?

Now Eric and I are both sitting up, fuming. Our bed has become a battle field. Otis pits his fifteen pounds of fur, claws, canine cunning and the considerable advantage of night vision against us. We must look a sight- trapped in a tangle of sheets, snarling furiously, bleary eyed, wild haired, pajamas rumpled, braced for his next attack.

He must feel some sly satisfaction in the act of battle. I’ll admit, we haven’t exactly been model parents. After our wedding, we sent him off to live with strangers- new people and new animals while we gallivanted through Africa and China. When we did finally come back to collect him, we loaded him into a car for a thirty hour drive and now expect him to sleep through the night in a sweet furry ball. His disgust and indignation are warranted.

But I still want a decent night of sleep. And my daytime sympathy for him dissolves with each nightly onslaught. Ah, for a bedroom door to shut.

There are things I can't bear to part with...

The Etsy blogger assignment for July was to blog about catching up. As I thought about what to write, I realized that our entire visit to Minnesota has been about catch up. Catching up with the lives of friends and family and catching them up on our new and amorphous plans, catching up with errands and projects and on and on. One of the largest projects has been sorting through and reorganizing the detrius of our previous lives to fit more efficiently in storage until we settle on a place to live.

The unpleasantness of sorting through piles of dusty cardboard boxes, abandoned golf clubs and cross country skis was momentarily relieved when I uncovered a few of the little treasures that I deposited there almost two years ago. I found these embroidered wildflower pictures at one of my favorite thrift stores in Plymouth, MN just before we left for Africa. I thought of putting them up on Etsy, but ultimately couldn't part with them. Now, if I only had a home to hang them up in! Wishing you all the best as you play catch up with those you love this long weekend.

Good Riddance Michael and JoAnne!

My hatred for Michaels and JoAnn has been well documented on this blog. I hate the neon lighting, the linoleum floors, the clueless staff, the plastic bins filled with polyester "yarn", the rows of prefabricated wooden birdhouses, the scrap booking kits and the horrifying array of calico and sequined fabrics, useless except for transvestites and Halloween costumes.

Well, those creeps Michael and JoAnn are like the mean friends I had in junior high. History. Why bother with them when I can find a huge selection of cool vintage inspired textiles over at Repro Depot with a few clicks of my mouse? They carry Marimekko,Heather Ross and Ms. March. I can't wait to start whipping up dishtowels, aprons and p.j sets. Happy clicking!

Whoever said that getting there is half the fun has never been on a 20 hour flight.

Have you ever passed a truckload full of chickens on the interstate? They are packed tightly like cotton balls in a jar, their little white feathers sticking through the metal grate and scattering in the wind behind them, a whirling testament to the indignities of their situation. Well that is exactly how one feels in coach on a long haul flight.

Especially when you have to pass through first class to reach your coach seat. How is it that they find a way to fit five coach passengers into the space alloted for one person in first class? It always puts me in a foul mood before the plane has even taken off. Imagine those smug first class ticket holders popping champagne and eating lobster as the gorgeous stewardesses fluff up feather pillows for their feet. Simultaneously I'm trapped in an aisle barely large enough for me and my handbag as the fellow in front of me wrestles his luggage into the overhead bin.

I love to travel. But I hate long haul flights. Here are the few things that offer me comfort on such a journey. I'm afraid those poor chickens aren't allowed any.

1) Water Water Water. I like to bring on the largest size possible. I'd bring gallons if they'd let it past security. Those dear to me have already heard this rant, so I'll just say that this time I was able to bring plenty to ward of the inevitable dehydration of twenty hours of piped in air.

2)Bose Noise Canceling Headphones (which are expensive and were generously lent to us this trip) They were wonderful, eliminating the awful drone of the roaring 747 engines, the screaming of the baby two rows in front of us and the incessant whistling of the man beside me. (at least he was feeling cheerful!) We took turns using them this trip, but we might have to buy a set for each of us if we make this journey often enough.

3) Nature Therapeutics Shut Eye Mask is made of silk and oh-so-plush! Indispensable when the Whistler also decides to turn on the blinding reading light and the plane and sun are moving at the same rate so that darkness never comes.

4) Slippers leave feet free to swell to their maximum potential. Mine aren't quite as chic as those pictured, (they are crocheted slipper socks) but they are compact enough to fit in my purse and allow my sausage feet a little comfort.

5) My favorite Burt's Complexion Mist is a wonderful refresher throughout the whole ordeal. But mark my words, one day I'll be flying first class all the way.

Who Wore it Better? You Decide!

Eric, Momma D and I just got back from The Other Boleyn Girl. It stars Natalie Portman, Eric Bana and Scarlett Johansen (Madame B secretly hopes Eric Bana and Scarlett Johansen would be chosen to play her and Eric in the film version of their life story. Here's the pitch: ScarJo poured into a skimpy little dress, Eric Bana in a tattered safari suit that reveals his dauntingly perfect abs, add some man eating lions to the African Adventure, pad the lulls in China with a ruthless Hong Kong Mafia crew and suddenly the dullest of lives become Hollywood material. But I digress) Its not as if I thought this movie would be brilliant but...




But I didn't expect to be thrown from the plot by a measly little necklace. About halfway through I became totally fixated. Where on earth had I seen that before? It looked so familiar, so gaudily, eerily familiar. Was this really the sort of thing a girl would wear in the 1500s? I racked my brain. It seemed like it was on a cartoon character. I thought of Betty Rubble from the Flinstones. But that wasn't it. Wasn't her necklace supposed to look like a cross between pearls, dinosaur eggs and rocks?



Right Betty, wrong cartoon show. I'm not the only one to notice this by the way. I'd love to know the costumer's explanation for this one...



Well, according to this historical portrait, Anne wore it first. I still say, it was ugly back then and its ugly (and distracting!) now. Another puzzle of humankind solved by the internet. Make sure to cast your who wore it best vote in the poll on the right hand sidebar!

God be with you little plants!

We leave tomorrow for three weeks in the U.S of A. I'm so looking forward to seeing family and friends and buying lots of things that were made in China, sent all the way around the world to be sold the U.S and then wedging them in my suitcase and bringing them back around the world to reunite them with their place of origin. The World is Flat indeed.

I'll probably take a two day blogging hiatus to make the grueling journey from Shenzhen to Scottsdale (with three layovers and 25 hours of travel time, I have a feeling I won't be very chipper for a day or two) but we'll get back in the swing of it soon after.

Hopefully my plants will survive three weeks without me. This time, I've enlisted the help of my friend Ying and I'm quite optimistic. A table full of dead plants isn't exactly a joyous welcome home. They sure look pretty now, don't they?

Seven Jeans for Ten Bucks

Women's denim has been a serious trend in the fashion world for years now. I'd read about flashy brands in fashion mags all through college, but it wasn't until I was working at Dilly Lily that I realized the extent of the madness. The other girls working with me for $10 or $12 bucks an hour were shelling out almost as much as $300 for a pair of jeans. I was shocked. How could they justify it? And what did their credit scores look like?

I've been a very loyal Gap jeans girl since the seventh grade...I need the stretch and I don't like the super low rises that other ladies my age seem to dig on. (I want my belly where no one else can see it thank you very much!) And of course it doesn't hurt that Gap sizes run big so you feel as though you've mysteriously and effortlessly lost ten pounds. After working there for years I know exactly which cut and size works for me, so I can walk right in, grab 'em off the shelf and walk right out again fifteen minutes and sixty dollars later new jeans in tow.

So when the only pair I brought with me to China began to show signs of the inevitable end, I was reluctant to go out looking. Chinese girls all seem to have bottoms the size of two largish navel oranges. Its not like I could be a plus size model or anything, its just that next to these women I'm a fee-fie-foe-strosity. In the U.S I wear a small or extra small and here in China I'm an extra large! Its all a little disconcerting.

Add to my denim shopping trepidation the strange fashion ideas floating around in this city. There is a firm and unyielding belief in the power of more more more. Its all about flash and (usually faux) logos and high heels. I began scoping out people's jeans carefully. What I found was not encouraging.

There were stone washes with rhinestones on every conceivable surface, bulky denim bows on pockets, spray painted graffiti, rips, safety pins, crazy zippers, asymmetrical buttons and artfully bleach splattered numbers but nowhere were the simple, dark wash jeans I needed to make it through three more weeks of Shenzhen winter. (A side note: I'd always assumed womankind's desire to minimize thighs, hips and butt was universal. I was dead wrong. Turns out that navel orange bottom women are looking for a bit of amplification in the form of oversize bows, billowing cargo pockets and pleats that don't quit.)

Certainly I could hold out just a little longer. Just until February 12th when we head back to the states. I had to. And just then the last little threads gave up. Suddenly my jeans were only fit for a Britney Spears crotch shot.

I went to Nuren Shi Jie with fear in my heart, armed with my defeated jeans for butt comparison purposes. (Why bother trying to shimmy in and out of endless pairs of navel orange bottom jeans? Might as well begin the torture in the right ballpark.) I found a shop that had a large selection piled relatively neatly on the trash bag lined floor. I began digging through and shockingly discovered a few pairs of Paper Denim and Seven Jeans in the right bottom ballpark. I was floored. Sure, there were eight inches of excess denim crumpling around my ankles like the Wicked Witch at the bitter end, but the butt fit!

I snatched them up and took them straight to my tailor who even used the original hem to fix them right up. Total cost? Twelve bucks. I may never go back to the Gap.

Five Purchases We are debating

Living a wild and spontaneous life has its drawbacks. For example, when you move to China with no real plan its hard to know how long it may take to complete the plan...and so you don't know how long you will stay. There are a few big ticket items we have been debating purchasing. Things that would make our lives more convenient but aren't really necessities. If you were staying for two months, you wouldn't even consider them. If however you are staying for two years, those two years might be considerably enhanced by use of the afore mentioned big ticket items. And the longer you spend yaking about it, the less use you get out of the damn things. So you can see our dilemma. Without further adieu, here are the top five purchases we are debating:

1) A nice, soft, cloudlike mattress. I know I've mentioned this in previous posts...the mattress we have is like sleeping on a pile of rocks loosely covered with splintery two by fours. This purchase is certainly not the most expensive on our list, but it would require a lot of navigating and we'd have to do something with it at the end of our time here. (Presumably the owner of these apartments likes the mattresses he chose to furnish with and detests the idea of sleeping on a cloud of feathers...)
2)Treadmill. This is more on Eric's list than mine, but I think we'd both find it useful in maintaining our girlish figures. Again the dual problems of what to do with it later and how soon we'd have to dispose of it loom large.
3) Clothes Dryer. This one is huge. Its easy to rhapsodize about the joys of linens dried in the glittering sunshine on a warm spring day. The grim realities of crunchy socks dried on a soot covered balcony in the middle of a booming factory city in China is another matter entirely.
4)Cappucino Maker: admittedly this is more an item of wishful thinking. It was hard enough to track down our tiny drip coffee maker, I haven't seen hide nor hair of the real thing in any of the kitchen shops here. And I shouldn't complain really. The wonderful people at Illy Cafe keep us up to our necks in the most wonderfully thick and creamy cappuccinos. My parents had a friend long ago who was obsessed with preparing the perfect cappuccino at home. He was like a mad scientist in a lab of glittering glass water filters and purifiers, the sharp whir of the coffee grinding machines, the steam hissing from the stainless steel milk frother and stacks and stacks of tiny white cups. I was too small to appreciate good coffee at the time, but I'll never forget what he said about how to identify a well made cappuccino. He said that when you put the thick raw sugar on top, it should never sink through the foam. A well made cappucino can support an entire sugar cube. I've never forgotten that, and I'll tell you, he was so right. Those are the best.
5)Space Heater: How we've gone to sweating through our clothes to piling our bed of rocks with three down comforters at night, I can't tell you. But I'm thinking a space heater might be a good investment. Its certainly not freezing, there is no snow or ice and you don't need more than a light sweater to go out in the daytime, but in the evenings it gets just chilly enough...

I have to laugh at myself because obviously we can do without all these things. After all, we have for the past four months. The other day I was reading the story of Madeline and the Gypsies again. There was this wonderful little drawing of the gypsy mama on top of their little caravan. She was drinking a coffee on the roof while the gypsy papa played the guitar sitting on the horses pulling them along to the next place. I suppose, one of the small trials of seeing the world is that you don't have time or space to accumulate things. Maybe an excellent lesson that the decadent Madame B will never really learn.

What about an "Already Done List"?

I am a list maker. I always have been. I've been told that many eldest children are in the habit of making lists. I find them very useful in keeping all manner of things straight and have long been in the habit of devoting entire notebooks to lists. I prefer the 7.5x9.5" Composition notebooks you can buy at the drugstore with the black and white deckled covers and with the nice tidy lined pages. (Though the ones pictured here are awfully adorable too. Check them out at Three Potato Four.)I usually recover them with something funky and get busy filling them with to do lists.

Sometimes I sort the lists by category: Cleaning, To Buy, Errands, Mending, Beauty, Money etc. Sometimes I sort them into "long term" and "short term" categories, or "artsy" and "fartsy" for fun and not so fun to do's. I make lists of movies and book and music to check out. I make wish lists, project lists, blog idea lists and when Christmas comes this list making soars into a whole new stratosphere.

But the thing about to do lists is that no matter how you sort them, and rewrite them, no matter how many items get a nice fat line through them, you never ever get to the end. To do lists are ceaseless, bottomless, interminable, constantly gushing up out of the infinite. No matter how much I accomplish (or fail to accomplish) new things are always sneaking on to my lists. That's life I suppose.

But today I was thinking to myself about the amount of energy I expand on these damn lists. Now, I'm not kidding myself. Obviously, list making is integral to my being, I seriously doubt I could give it up now. But perhaps I should start making "Already Done" lists instead. Think about it. This could be just as effective a means of measuring time and energy and give you the same swelling sense of validation as crossing something off the list.

I could list all the usual suspects;
"Laundry"
"Grocery Shopping"
"Bank"

But then there would also be all sorts of things on that would never make it onto a regular list.
"Went to yoga"
"Bought flowers at market."
"Enjoyed a beer and bowl of peanuts with my husband"

Just a thought.

More Adventures in English

One of my favorite games to play in China is "guess what they were trying to say". The thing about Mandarin is that it is very concise. For example, if you want to say something tastes good in English, you have a variety of choices. You can say "tasty" "delicious" "scrumptious" "mouthwatering" "delectable" or "yummy". In Mandarin you simply say "hao chi" (pronounced "how chir") which means literally "good eat".

So lets just say some of the nuances are lost on us. And of course, literal translations simply do not work. They end up being totally non-nonsensical. Hence, my game of "guess what they were trying to say". It consists of reading a sign, menu or product packaging covered with totally insane English and using my limited Mandarin skills and a lot of guesswork to deduce what might have been intended. Who else wants to play?

I took these photos outside of a construction site for a new office tower. Sorry for the poor quality.



This one says "Carving Valley Land of CBD Power Heart driving the city".





This one says "Curve the Artistic Mediasdfs" My best guess here is a drunken typist.




This one says "Confirming Sagacity cuddling the high tech dominating times" I think the image that accompanied this is also relevant here...

Creatures for sale at subway stations (for dinner tonight!) As observed in Shenzhen

1)Two Snakes, writhing wildly in an orange mesh fruit bag tied shut with electrical wires. These were waved in my face with much enthusiasm.
2) Four turtles, covered in mud and turned upside down in a most undignified manner,waving their little legs very slowly in what appeared to be a direct correlation to the hopelessness of their situation. (I hear these are most often used for soup.)
3) A pyramid of about thirty fluffy white baby bunny rabbits, each in their own purple cage. I like to imagine these were intended for pets, but one never can 'tell round here.
4) Fifteen grubby hens, indignantly crammed into one too small cage, noisily sqwaking their protestations, little feathers poufing out the sides of the chicken wire.
5) A full grown alligator, mouth firmly bound with duck tape and a bungee cord, held captive in a ramshackle cage a shade too small, his tail protruding from the rear. I believe these are usually roasted on a spit.

You shouldn't be in the left lane if..

This is your car. Really, if you have your flashers on, that should be a tip off.