Ah, toys

Ok, so today's pointless photo isn't of toys. It's of my foot. And some rocks. Yeah, I don't know either.

Anyway, toys. I've decided that my toys are becoming decidedly weirder as I get older. I've already mentioned that art supplies are definitely toys for me anymore (and speaking of art supplies, I have yet to think of an idea for this week's Illustration Friday prompt. Hollow, anyone?), I know. Well, my latest thing is even stranger than that.

It's a butter bell.

Sorry... butter bell. French butter crock, if you prefer. It lets you keep butter at room temperature for weeks, as long as you change the water regularly. I'd been wanting one for a while, so when I saw one in the store the other day I figured I'd may as well give it a try.

Does it work?

Yes, it does.

Is that a problem?

Only when you find yourself treating it like a toy.

Not that I'm really playing with it, you understand. Just that it's still a novelty to know that I have softened butter available whenever I want it without having to nuke it.

And that, my friends, is making me go through a lot more butter than I normally do.

Oh, I don't mean that suddenly butter is going on everything. I just mean that I'm now using butter where I might have used, say, margarine before. Taste-wise? A good thing. Cost-wise? Well, I think the novelty better wear off soon. I can't afford to develop that sort of butter habit.

This is making it sound like I'm really overdoing the butter. I'm not. I promise. They say you can keep butter in one of those things for thirty days as long as it's in a cool place, and I may possibly make it that long. It's just that... well... I'm cheap. Ok, I admit it. I'm cheap, and the thought of what butter costs compared to good old non-hydrogenated vaguely-butter-tasting oleo kind of... bothers me.

My toys shouldn't be costing me money, you know. I'm not that kind of a person. Once I've paid the money for a toy, that's supposed to be it.

And, honestly?

HOW FREAKING WEIRD IS IT THAT I'M THINKING OF A BUTTER BELL AS A TOY???

Sometimes I really think I need some sort of professional help.





And I'm not talking about a personal chef here, boys and girls.
I'm... done typing now, I think. I should get back to work anyway.









Later, then.