“I you think it…

“I you think it’s raining too hard, remember your great uncle Isaac whose village was burned by Cossacks – then you feel differently about the rain”

Remember that things may be seeming to come down in buckets upon you- yet each one is clothes in an overcoat and my have a message for you
Remember that things may be seeming to come down in buckets upon you- yet each one is clothed in an overcoat and my have a message for you
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what does one do with a bushel of limes carefully removed from branches overhanging one’s garden wall at night when everyone is asleep and the moon is out?

This question comes from the Crescent City.

This is a very simple one easy for me Great Zamboni to answer.There are three great uses of the lime: 1. Key Lime Pie 2. Key Lime Pie. 3. As a wedge in a Gin and Tonic.

And remember, they will be juicier if before you cut them open, you roll between your hands a bit, squeezing  them just a little. Then when you slice they are ready to be juicy!

Enjoy

Zamboni Speaks due to Riots!

There’s an old saying my Finnish nanny used to say as I hid in fear of her under my bed: “you can run, and you can hide, but I’ll still find you and smack you with my fist”

It’s sort of like life, people. You can run from things, or hide your head like a turtle, but when you pop out, that imposing Finnish nanny is staring you square in the face.  The Nanny could be any number things, illness, worry, stress, and they don’t go away just by ignoring them. Nanny is life.

I realize my talk of retirement caused riots in Botswana, a dip in facebook stock price,  and egg shortages in Michigan. For this I am truly sorry. It was rash of me to think I could simply disappear from your life. Like Michael Corleone said, “Just when I got out,  they pull me back in.” And frankly, it is also Zamboni that misses you all, my idolators and electrolytes.

So though I am taking somewhat of a break, the nanny never takes a break, and so I am still with you.

Speaking of this nanny, whose name was Trinka- Though she was hard on me, she always dressed my wounds and sang  me to sleep. Finnish songs of ice and sea captains lost at sea. I remember one going like so:

sing cold wind, over the roiling sea

sing cold wind, over you and over me

Life will bruise you up a bit, but is always there to ice your concussions.

Be happy! -Zamboni