I love a word that has two definitions that are the polar opposite of each other. Like smite:
After attempting to smite (read: defeat or conquer with a firm blow) an unsuspecting cow, I was smitten (read: be strongly attracted to something) by the texture and juiciness of the resulting meat.
Now, that’s a word that embraces its contradictions. It’s the PMS of the Oxford American Dictionary.
Actually, though, I didn’t smite the cow. I wanted to, but I just kept on walking by the pasture with my CSA produce, right past the empty meat case at Drumlin. When I inquired as to when we might be expecting some (ahem) meat in the meat case, the Mass Audubon woman seemed a bit taken aback. Is this not a farm?
Anyway, I’m testy because it’s only a week before the Eat Local Challenge and I still have no local meat in my freezer. I don’t even have a (convenient) source. And you know how gung-ho I was in the spring about being prepared for this wacky experiment and, yet, I have no dishes portioned in the freezer for my scary low-blood-sugar moments. Which means you might want to keep your distance next month, just in case. Please don’t take anything I might say personally.