THIS IS NOW THE MOST POPULAR POST ON MY BLOG IF POPULARITY IS MEASURED BY THE NUMBER OF VISITORS WHO COME TO THE SITE FROM DIFFERENT PLACES AND LAND DIRECTLY ON THIS PAGE. AS I SAID IN A POST ON 27 FEB, THESE READERS ARE APPARENTLY LOOKING FOR INFORMATION ABOUT A CRICKET PLAYER NAMED GRAHAM ONIONS. SORRY. THAT’S NOT WHAT THIS BLOG IS ABOUT.
I have vivid memories of a drive from San Jose up to one of the near-by volcanos (um, San Jose, Costa Rica) and driving through fields of onions growing on the sides of these volcanic mountains. It was beautiful to see and rather delicious to smell. It made me think of the onion scene’s in the book/movie Holes. It also made me want to grill up some burgers.
I’m quite fond of onions. Red ones and green ones. I love Vidalia onions raw. Sometimes they are stronger than I want, but usually I tend toward wanting more rather than less. I’m grateful for Altoids and parsley so my personal love affair with onions does not have to aversly impact others.
When I read about the million or so Hebrews roaming about in the wilderness (recorded in Exodus), I do understand how they longed for the leeks and onions of Egypt.
Yesterday I had a right-after-lunch meeting. When I walked into the room which was vacated just minutes before mine was to start, it was apparent that the group before us had lunched while they met and at least one person had consumed some raw onions in that space.
Funny how the left-over smell of onions is not really appealing. It is more like enthusiastic b.o. or dirty socks than anything I’d want to consume.
Being the first in the room and not being armed with Glade, I wanted to put a sign around my neck stating clearly that “it’s not me…someone ate onions in here.”