Florentine

Who uses it: Cooks and gourmets
What it means: Made with spinach
How you can use it: Whenever you're tossing spinach into something.

I may be in the minority here, but I believe that spinach is a universal improver, like bacon. Anything you make is better with spinach. It's possible that ice cream would not be improved by spinach, but I've never made spinach ice cream, so I can't say. (And now I come to think of it, a spinach-nutmeg gelato could be terrific. I may need to make that experiment.) Even Dizzy likes spinach, if it's cooked. (He won't eat it raw, though he eats grass. I've given up figuring out what his standards for "food" are.)

Today's calendar page in my Microsoft Outlook bears no relation to what I'll actually being doing today. I'd planned to go for an hour-long walk with the ladies from Curves; I'd planned to drive down to Portland to see Joseph Kanon at the Portland Public Library. Neither of these things will happen, because yesterday afternoon I agreed to take on an urgent last-minute project that's due tomorrow. Coincidentally or not, I also received my quarterly health insurance bill yesterday. Remarkable how that sort of thing can reorder your priorities. It's a gorgeous day, so if I can, I may spend some time working on the deck.

The one thing on today's calendar page that remains valid is a reminder that it's Michelle Neely's birthday. Happy birthday, Michelle!

First five songs off the iPod Shuffle this morning:

“Under Pressure,” David Bowie & Queen. Ooh, how appropriate! If I live to be 100, I will never get tired of this song. You can play it at my funeral.

“Sounds Better in the Song,” Drive-By Truckers. If Bruce Springsteen had grown up in the Tennessee mountains, he’d have written this song.

“Does She Talk?” Matthew Sweet. I have to believe that the only reason Matthew Sweet isn’t a huge star is because he just doesn’t want to be. This album (Girlfriend) remains one of the best of the 1990s. I’m pretty sure Matthew Sweet was the last show I saw at the old 9:30 Club, before they moved to Vermont Ave.

“You Don’t Treat Me No Good,” Sonia Dada. A great, great record – pop-funk fusion – whatever happened to these guys?

“Evil and a Heathen,” Franz Ferdinand. I like Franz Ferdinand, but sometimes they sound like a pale copy of a better band. This is a thin version of a song the Reverend Horton Heat could have done a lot more with.