Twister mister, foliage foe & too old to WWOOF

Twister mister, foliage foe & too old to WWOOF

Dear Rachel,

I try to recycle as much as I can. Cans, paper, plastic. I don’t know what to do with the twistys and clips on bread I buy at the local stores. I remember when we saved the pop tops from soda and beer cans to make a chain. Before your time. Then they invented the pull tab to stay with the can. Great. But what do you do with your bread twists and clips, if you buy bread?

– Pop a Top

Dear Top a Pop,

Wait, can I call you “top a pop” in a family newspaper? Sounds like a wholesome app for demonstrating whose dad is the best dad, named by someone wildly innocent. Kind of like the (seriously existing) Doggie Style app for dog owners to arrange playdates with their pups. Anyway. What’s to stop you from making a bread-clip chain? Alternate twist-ties with plastic clips and decorate the tree. The best part is, it’s non-biodegradable, so your Christmas spirit will last the whole eternity through.

– Can’t top this, Rachel


Dear Rachel,

I think I am the only person on the planet who does not go gaga over fall colors. I mean, sure, they’re pretty. But I am not spending a day or two of my precious life driving the Million Dollar Highway just to pull over and look at trees. Or worse, NOT pull over and look at trees. It’s got to be the most hazardous season on the roads, rubberneckers drooling over aspens just because they’re dying. Can you justify or rationalize this obsession? 

– Leaf-t Behind

Dear Stonehearted,

I’m not even sure you have a stone heart. You might be completely heartless. Nature is terrifying and awe-inspiring, and for a week out of the year it’s supremely beautiful in a way you can access without packing Clif bars. But you know what? I’m glad you stay home, inserting razor blades in Halloween candy or whatever you do for fun. Save some road space for the rest of us.

– Ooh and ahh, Rachel


Dear Rachel,

All my friends are going WWOOFing. They all explain it like they buy a ticket to Vietnam and agree to work on a farm for a few months in exchange for a cot and some food. Sounds perfect, except my friends are all in or approaching their 40s. Don’t mean to sound ageist, but farm labor ain’t the same as skiing and bicycling all year. It’s going to wreck them. How can I support them, both now and when they come crawling back home?

– Bite Worse Than My Woof

Dear Yapper,

WWOOF wins for weirdest verbed acronym. Especially because the double-W stands for “world wide,” which is definitely one word. Why not spelling-appropriate WOOFing, dear acronymers? Are you worried about being too doggie-styled for your own good? Or is that cool with the 20-year-olds who probably do the most WWOOFing? I wouldn’t over-wworry, dear reader. Your mid-life-crisis friends have the life perspective to get more out of this experience than their younger co-WWOOFers. Even if that’s lifelong back pain.

– Wwarmly, Rachel

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