I've Got No Frankincense At All

Just as when I was in Australia (could that possibly have been seven years ago?), I'm consistently tickled by the flavors of things here. What marketing focus group decided that prune yogurt would be a hit here in Europe but not in America? How come Dubs get to munch on "Prawn Cocktail" Pringles in jolly pink cans, but Bostoners can't?

Case in point! My new toothpaste: Colgate Herbal. Bought at the 2€ Store for, well, two euro, it features a soothing bouquet of chamomile, eucalyptus, sage, and myrrh. Myrrh! I honestly didn't know that was still around. How delicious, though! It's a little bit overwhelming at first brush --- almost as if you've cut open a lawn mower's bag of clippings and shoved your toothbrush inside. Spitting into the sink, I half-expect to see little pieces of grass and clover. Why is this not readily available in D.C.?

Along those lines, I'll say this: grass is INSANE here. I'm trying desperately to figure out just how much of the municipal budget is devoted strictly to maintaining and manicuring the patches of grass in the city. Over by Trinity, it's stunning to see Astroturf-esque expanses of beautiful, soft green grass. Cut low to to ground and perfectly planted, it begs for little lambs to graze upon it. Unfortunately, that's a right given only to those honorable citizens who have received the Freedom of the City. Lucky recipients like Bob Geldof and Bono have the right to graze sheep on common ground within the city boundaries.

Someday....!