Friday 20 April 2012: "Heard a noise..."
"Is is bigger than a breadbox?"
The one line that seems to have stuck in the public consciousness is one whose popularity has always been a puzzle to me. One evening, in trying to determine the size of an object that was manufactured by one of the guests, I said, "Is is bigger than a breadbox?" I meant this in all seriousness, but for some reason the audience laughed uproariously. Perhaps the reason is that the breadbox is an old-fashioned item to today's homemakers and so the word had the sort of connotation that surrounds phrases like high-button shoes, celluloid collar, or raccoon coat. In any event, from that day to this the phrase has been a part of the American vernacular. Dorothy, Bennett, and Arlene picked it up as a sort of running joke and there was a time when every week somebody would send me an unusual breadbox or ask me for mine or send me a song about breadboxes or something of the sort. One kitchenware manufacturer even wanted to put a Steve Allen breadbox on the market.
From Steve Allen's 1960 autobiography, Mark It and Strike It
The Nora Diary, Day 31
Left right after breakfast
to get some wood. Got
home about noon. Had
our dinner and in the
afternoon did some wash-
ing. After sat on the piazza and played
donkey. Rather chilly.
Seems like September.
Crabmeat salad for
supper. Heard a noise and
found a squirrel in our
bread box tried to catch
him but he got away from us.
For the Record,
This day came in as a perfect April day. I'm exhausted. Raspberry has a little intestinal and tummy bug and needed a vet trip after supper. We were inventorying a photo exhibit our Diversity Committee is hanging at a local library. The delivered case of framed photographs weighs over 70 pounds. Good thing for Gregory to hoist it in.
Anyway, it became apparent that Sally Berry needed a trip. G & I went, T stayed home to tackle our internet woes and tidy up after a rushed supper. Raspberry turned into a wailing, flying, screaming golden haired banshee when she had the stinging anti-nausea shot(3/4ths of it anyway.). Shooting from the vet tech's arms and breaking loose from the tightly wrapped towels in a flash. I luckily had stepped out of the exam room to lessen her stress... seeing my stress. Nightmare $150 evening.
I stayed home from painting today to re-coup and keep an eye on her. Max was (not so secretly) glad he missed the vet trip. Separation does prevent unnecessary gloating...
p.s. Nelson got good compensation for his modeling job.