Bag it up

People who think that only males have the brains or talent or initiative to invent things should learn about Margaret Eloise Knight, who had a mind for invention and used it!

Ms Knight was born on Valentine's Day, 1838 in York, Maine. Her dad died when she was but a child, and her mom moved the family to New Hampshire, where young Margaret went to work at a cotton mill at the age of 12 to help the family get by. That was the end of her formal education.

Cotton mills involved dangerous machinery, and - still a pre-teen - Margaret, having seen other workers injured, came up with her first invention to prevent machine injuries.

Of course, someone stole the idea. There was no way she could have accessed the patenting process, so she saw mills across the country using her idea without compensating her.

She moved on to Springfield, Massachusetts and found another factory job, this time at the Columbia Paper Bag Company. And again, she saw dangerous and inefficient conditions, and she put her mind to work. In 1868, she invented a machine that cold fold and glue paper bags. It was she who developed the technology of making paper bags with the flat bottom that we came to see over the years when bagging up our grapefruits, ginger ale, and Vienna sausages at the ShopSumMor.

Ms Knight was not about to get burned again with the patent. She saw a man (I shouldn't mention his name) (Charles Annan) trying to rip off her idea, but she had her original blueprints and won a patent lawsuit in 1871.

This model of her bag machine is in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

And from this, she co-founded the Eastern Paper Bag Company in Hartford, Connecticut, and went on to patent some 25 more inventions, including a shoe-making machine and a clasp for robes. The woman who once said, “I’m only sorry I couldn’t have had as good a chance as a boy” was inducted into the Inventors Hall of Fame in 2006.

Sweet story

I keep a jar (or a squeeze bottle that looks like a honeybear) of honey in the pantry. I sweeten my spaghetti sauce and iced tea with it, and I happily jumped on the hot honey trend with my fried chicken. I slather on Texas Pete hot sauce, then glaze it with honey, and boy howdy! That's good eating!

But - there is history "bee"hind all this....over in Egypt, archeologists have dug into the pyramids and found pots filled with honey that has never spoiled!

The AllRecipes website talked to a beekeeper name of Whendi Grad. Her husband Garnett Puett is a fourth-generation beekeeper at Big Island Bees in Hawaii. The two of them keep up with 2,000 hives using traditional beekeeping methods.

And Grad wants you to know, if you store honey properly, it will not go bad.

"Honey will darken and/or crystallize, but it is still safe to eat," she said. It may oxidize, due to being store in metal or plastic containers, and being around heat can change its flavor. So don't do that!

Grad says, to keep your honey from fermenting, seal it in an air-tight glass container. And be sure to use clean, dry utensils to scoop it out of the jar, because moisture will harm the honey.

Honey is low in moisture content. That thwarts any bacteria from surviving. And no bacteria means no spoilage. Plus, surprise! honey is acidic enough to get rid of  the bacteria and organisms that spoil other food.

And - adding to the marvels of nature - bees add their own enzymes to their honey.  Those enzymes produce hydrogen peroxide - the same stuff we use to treat wounds and dye our hair.

So that is why bees are half blonde.

 

Aunt Bee

Darling, darling

I missed seeing any live coverage of the Met "Gala" this year because I have no interest in it whatsoever.  I ignored the whole thing, even though the theme of this year's "Let's See How Weird We Can Look" shindig was "Fashion is Art."

Art who? Art Fleming, original host of "Jeopardy"? Art Donovan, beloved Baltimore Colt from 1953 -1962? Art VanDeLay, millionaire industrialist from "Seinfeld"? Garfunkel, Carney, Linkletter? The list goes on.

I feel that by saying fashion is art, one is also saying, "we're special because we put on these outrageous get-ups and prance around the steps of a museum." There's an art to knowing how to dress, I grant you. My summer uniform of polo shirt and cargo shorts is functional, and since the pants and the shirts are in different piles in my closet, it's only by pure chance that the colors match, if they do. Wintertime, I'll be in blue jeans, with a long-sleeved tee or sweatshirt covered by a short-sleeved tee shirt.

That's my fashion, and I am comfortable with it. 

But I have to throw a penalty flag at Sheinelle Jones on the TODAY show. The day after that big blowout, she showed a video of herself talking to some fashion icon on those fabled steps, and the important person she spoke with had some sort of equipment failure...a broken strap, some loose sequins, something popped out that should not have, I dunno.

But Sheinelle said, "Oh, the stars! They're just like us!"

It is TOO Heidi Klum!

No, they are not. We are home doing things, reading books, helping children or friends, calling sick friends, volunteering at food banks, baking bread, building models, playing online Parcheesi, doing one of a thousand and one things. We're not traipsing around in bizarre garmentry while people tell us how fabulous we are. "Fabulous" comes to us from the word "fable," meaning "made-up stories."

We keep it real real here in the real world. That's fabulous, darling.

Toss it

I keep telling everyone that I would be glad to eat a salad with dinner every night! I'm not fond of a lot of green things - keep your peas and your okra - but you pile torn up lettuce and cherry tomatoes and slivers of carrot and celery and bleu cheese crumbles and anchovies in a bowl, and stand back out of the way!

There's also the Caesar salad - romaine lettuce, croutons, and Caesar dressing. But with that, the dressing is the big star, which, to me, is like having your socks be the main focus of your clothing. And the way they make such a big deal of it! Rubbing a half clove of garlic in the bowl of your bowl, and all that commotion!

There used to be a guy I knew who made salads for a swanky eatery. We called him "Edward Garlic-hands." Ditch* the garlic, double the anchovies, and let's have extra tomatoes and bleu crumbles.

*I almost said "86 the garlic" but we don't want to upset you-know-who.

 

And again

I guess it means you've been around a while when you start losing friends in groups. That's my story. A friend of mine - a guy I've known since broadcasting school, who replaced me at the station in Salisbury when I got a job at a station in Baltimore, died on Friday.  Colin did radio very well and became an all-around fill-in guy at a couple of stations here in Baltimore.

And then on Saturday afternoon, a guy who joined our class in sixth grade and went all the way through high school, and then on to college and law school, was killed APPARENTLY by his son-in-law during a family domestic. Bob has been an attorney around here for over 50 years.

I'm told that disease took Colin, and the insidious disease of people resolving their personal differences with bullets took Bob from us. 

I looked it up, how to react to losing two friends at once or in close succession. The internet, font of all wisdom, says that sort of double blow "creates a profound, overwhelming experience known as cumulative or 'stacked' grief, which can lead to intense shock, deep emotional distress, and isolation."

I'm sad. I'm not in shock, because at this point the only shocking thing would be for nothing bad to happen to anyone I care about. Our lives take twists and turns, and we do well if we just happen to hold the bar on this roller coaster ride.

And this is another reminder to enjoy every day! Tomorrow is not promised to any of us, but it's a good idea to keep that in mind. I'm grateful to be around and grateful to have this (occasionally ham-handed) way of sharing my feelings. 

Thank you.

Sunday Rerun: Money talks, and says goodbye for five months

 Because my father was in the Navy in World War II, serving aboard the USS Delta, he was served Spam (the meat byproduct, not the fake email) as often as three meals a day. One result of this was his lifelong disdain for fatty canned meat foods, so we never once had it for any meal around the house when I was supposed to be growing up.

Not that I am any kind of gourmet, but I never eat circus peanuts (or their bastard cousin candy corn), cilantro, beets, bologna, baloney, hummus, anything that looks like hummus, and anything pumpkin spiced.

And Hot Pockets! Never had one. If I want a calzone, there are plenty of sub shops around to find a good calzone, so why get some frozen substitute?

And don't even mention that they have a Hot Pockets Breakfast fruit pastry.

I am glad to be no fan of the Hot Pocket, now that Michelle Janavs, the daughter of the co-founder of the brand, owned up to being one of those helicopter moms who paid big money to have their unqualified children get into college.  In her case, she reached into her hot pocket and pulled out $200,000 to have her daughter get into the University of Southern California.  It's all part of that “Varsity Blues” uni admissions scandal. Last week, she was sent to the Ironbar Hilton for five months.

Wondering if they serve Hot Pockets in prison

For the record, here's the apology she uttered: “I am so very sorry that I tried to create an unfair advantage for my children,” Janavs said, telling U.S. District Judge Nathaniel Gorton that she decided to lie and cheat because she loves her children so doggone much.

Gorton pointed out that the “vast majority of parents do not brazenly try to push their kids in the side door…They don’t love their children any less than you do. They just play by the rules of common decency and fair play.”

Janavs also thought it a good idea to shell out $100,000 for an ACT proctor who corrected her daughters' exam before turning them in to be graded.

Sing along with Hall and Oates: "You're a rich girl, and you've gone too far."  America's too-wealthy class never lets me down.

The Saturday Picture Show, May 3, 2026

Pretty! Colored raindrops on the sunroof window!

There used to be a website called antipodes map. You put in your address, and it told you where you would wind up if you started drilling and went all the way through to the other side of Earth. Offer not valid for anyone who thinks the world is flat. Their exact oppo is Omaha.

Swallows made themselves a little nest up by the ceiling.

Baltimore crabhouse window art!

Pretty sure the last time I bought Pop-Tarts, Lindbergh was on his way to Paris. But people are saying they're getting skimpy on the gooey smear of icing on top. Cover photo for comparison.

There may be worse Mother's Day gifts than cleaning products for dear old Ma, but you'd have to go to that store in the mall that sells glittery t-shirts and whoopie cushions to find any. She wants a book, some bath salts, and a little peace and quiet. You're welcome.

Look what's back! It's Endless Shrimp at (the few remaining) Red Lobsters, including a new dish for this year improbably called Marry Me Shrimp. I cannot advise marrying any form of marine life. Shrimp have limited ap-peal.

And speaking of advice, I keep reading how much better life would be for all of use if we would only eat about 85 beets per week. Never gonna happen for me.

There are two gray hosses in today's Kentucky Derby, although this one is named Great White and is not really all that gray. I've always wanted to see a gray horse win the Run For The Roses!

 If I ever become a judge (highly unlikely!) I will incarcerate people who cut, tear, deface, disfigure, or destroy library property, for much more than two months. Their children's children will have to visit them on Sundays.  And people who talk out loud in libraries will face the swift sword of justice as well. This is a library, son, not one of your swing joints.