Remember Pollyanna? I doubt that anyone does. Here's a test: what was her boyfriend's name?

That's not why I am alluding to her. For those of you who are too young to remember, Pollyanna was the eponymous title of a children's book about a minister's daughter who was very poor. Orphaned, she was sent to live with her Aunt Polly, a rich, bitter, old maid, with whom she tried to play the Glad Game her father had taught her. The goal of the game was to find something to be glad about, no matter what happened. Sometimes it was hard. That's it; the whole book is about how Pollyanna infiltrated and changed the hearts of her aunt and the whole community.

People refer to anyone who tries to look on the bright side of things as a pollyanna, with condescension and often scorn. But...boy, do we need it/her now!

We have suffered a long, cold, hard winter. Did I mention long? Too long. People are hanging on by their fingernails waiting for warmth and sunshine. I know, I know: we are blessed. We are sheltered and fed, safe and secure and warm - inside. We have nothing to complain about. But I'm not glad about it, not as glad as I should be.

Someone tell me a joke.

Sorry - my aunt had a maid who pronounced avocado like that, emphasis on the do. And she pronounced consommé, consume. So I think of Irene when I do avoca-do. Guacamole was one of the first recipes I ever published for money, in an article for the old Leisureways magazine. It has a different name now, if it still exists. It was published by the Canadian Automobile Association. I forget why I put it in the article - word count, maybe? Anyway, here it is:

Crush 3 or 4 garlic cloves. (use the flat side of the broad end of a large knife, no need for a garlic crusher.) Peel them and mince. (I always remove the green stem thing inside, though no one ever told me to; I think it's bitter.) (I didn't say all this in my Leisureways article.) Drop the garlic pieces in your little chopper (electric?) and give them a whirl. Push the seeds out of a quartered tomato and add them. Maybe a pinch of salt and a drop of lemon juice to keep the avocado from going brown, plus some fresh cilantro. Put chunks of avocado into the chopper and chop it into the tomato-garlic mixture, as much as you see fit. Some people like almost a puree, others like to keep it chunky. Adorn with a sprig of cilantro on top for artistic effect and serve with chips or crackers. Any questions?

Did you know that recipes are very hard to write? Clarity is uppermost but I tend to add a little spice of humour when I can. Food is anthropomorphic; anyone knows that. It has human characteristics, usually malevolent. That's another discussion.