As a prelude to tonight’s Philly Cheese Steak night, a few pictures from last weekend’s trip to Pennsylvania:
A great road sign, and not only because it means you’ve just left New Jersey.
Saw a lot of dandelions in addition to the violets, but no buttercups yet. I love buttercups (though I’ve just found out that they’re acidic, and poisonous to cows and horses), and when I was younger I remember holding a flower under my chin to determine whether I liked butter. Apparently, if there’s a yellow reflection, that means you like butter (more sound science from the Department of Moms Who Make Stuff Up).
Another way to find out is just to ask. Oh, sure, it can create awkward situations (“Do you like butter?” “I beg your pardon!”), but it’s a hell of a lot less awkward than, “C’mere, I have to hold this miniature meadow flower under your chin.” “What? Why?” “Hmm…either you like butter, or you’ve developed a sudden case of jaundice.” “What? Who ARE you?!”
See? The imaginary situation involving the buttercup is WAY MORE AWKWARD.