Rhubarb: -The Original Sweet‑Tart Rebel

Wild Rhubarb gowing a a profusion of leaves and begging to make into a pie. A beautiful memory from my childhood

Wild Rhubarb Patch

 


🌿 Rhubarb: The Tart, Wild, Wonderful Spring Ritual

I grew up with a wild rhubarb patch — the kind that came back every year without being asked, without being watered, without being pampered. We’d wander out, snap off a few sturdy stalks, and head back inside to make sauce or pie. No ceremony, no measuring, just that sharp green‑red crunch and the promise of something tart and sweet bubbling on the stove.

Once I became an adult, though, I don’t remember making many rhubarb pies at all… or many pies, period. That was my mom’s skill set, not mine. But I did make the sweet‑tart rhubarb sauce — the kind you drizzle over warm biscuits for breakfast or dollop onto vanilla ice cream. It was simple, bright, and tasted like spring in a spoon.

But the funny thing about getting older is how the staples of your youth start tugging at you. Out of nowhere, you miss the things you didn’t even realize were woven into your childhood. And just the thought of those rhubarb pies — the tart filling, the soft pink juices, the smell drifting through the house — started my mouth watering.

So I did it.
I made a rhubarb pie.

After all, I’ve mastered apple… why not rhubarb? And you know what? It worked. It was everything I remembered: tart, rosy, fragrant, and just a little wild.


🍓 Is rhubarb a fruit?

Botanically, rhubarb is a vegetable — a cousin of buckwheat and sorrel.
Culinarily, it’s treated like a fruit because it shines in pies, jams, and sauces. In 1947 the U.S. even reclassified it as a fruit for import tariffs because everyone was baking with it.


☠️ Are the leaves really poisonous?

Oh those huge, waving glorious leaves.  Tough and green they are the crown of the the red stalks. But are they really poisonous? Yes — the leaves contain high levels of oxalic acid, which can be harmful if eaten.
The stalks, however, are perfectly safe and delicious. Just chop off the leafy tops and compost them. Or if you’re a kid, run around the yard waving those leaves like flags, pretending they were shields or capes. I had no idea they were the “don’t eat this” part of the plant.

Most gardeners simply cut the leaves off and toss them in the compost. The plant knows what it’s doing — it protects itself with a built‑in warning label.


🎨 Color: Rhubarb’s Great Plot Twist

Rhubarb comes in every shade from deep ruby to streaky pink to full‑on green.
And here’s the secret: color has nothing to do with flavor. Green rhubarb can be just as tart and bright as the reddest stalk. Once it cooks down with sugar, the juices turn rosy anyway — sometimes ruby, sometimes golden‑pink, sometimes a warm sunset shade. Real rhubarb pies rarely look like the neon‑red photos online, and that’s part of their charm.


😋 The Taste: Tart, Bright, and Completely Addictive

Rhubarb doesn’t pretend to be sweet. It comes in bold, tart, and unapologetic — the kind of flavor that wakes you up and makes you pay attention. Add sugar and heat, and it softens into something lush and nostalgic, the taste of early spring before anything else is ready to harvest.


🌱 A Few Fun Rhubarb Facts

  • Rhubarb plants can live 20+ years in the same spot.
  • Forced rhubarb (grown in dark sheds) is so tender it’s harvested by candlelight.
  • The stalks get more tart as the season goes on — early spring is the sweet spot.
  • Some varieties are bred for color, not flavor, which is why your pie might not be red even if the stalks were.
  • Rhubarb was once prized as a medicinal plant long before it became a dessert star.

🥧 And now… the pie

Once I decided to finally make one, I kept it simple. There are countless variations online, but this recipe is tested, reliable, and friendly enough that even a novice baker can make a successful treat. If you try it, let me know — I’d love to hear how yours turns out.

 

Here’s the recipe I used:


Rhubarb Pie 

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs rhubarb, cut into 1‑inch pieces (about 7 cups)
  • 1 ½ cups granulated sugar
  • ¼ cup cornstarch
  • 1 Tbsp lemon juice
  • ¼ tsp kosher salt
  • 2 batches pie dough (homemade or refrigerated)
  • All‑purpose flour, for rolling
  • 1 Tbsp cold butter, cubed
  • 1 large egg + ½ tsp water (egg wash)
  • Sanding sugar, for sprinkling

Directions

  1. Mix dry ingredients
    Combine sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a large bowl.
  2. Prepare crust
    Roll each dough round to 12 inches. Fit one into a 9‑inch pie plate.
  3. Layer filling
    Sprinkle ⅓ of the sugar–cornstarch mix over the bottom crust.
    Add rhubarb and lemon juice.
    Sprinkle remaining sugar mixture on top.
    Dot with butter.
    Add top crust; trim and crimp edges.
  4. Vent and chill
    Cut 5 slits in the top crust.
    Freeze assembled pie for 30 minutes.
  5. Bake
    Preheat oven to 375°F.
    Brush with egg wash; sprinkle sanding sugar.
    Bake on middle rack with a foil‑lined sheet on the lower rack.
    Bake about 1 hour, tenting if browning early.
    Continue baking until filling bubbles in the center and vents (about 30 minutes more)
  6. Cool completely
    Cool on a rack 3–4 hours for clean slices.

Notes

  • Peeling: Optional; peel only if stalks feel tough or stringy.
  • Cutting: Kitchen shears or a sharp knife both work.
  • Color: Red or green rhubarb both bake normally; color doesn’t affect flavor.
  • Doneness: Fully baked only when bubbling in the center.
  • Cooling: Full 3–4 hours helps the filling set.

 

 

MMM


 

Banner King of Chaos, Director of Illumination & Head of Printer Operations

 

Banner the ornage cat reves up with a cup of Joe before planning his daily does of chaos

The Internet Is Full of Cute Cats… But None Like Mine

The internet is overflowing with adorable felines.

There are the upside‑down cuddlers, Doug the 1‑der Cat and his lobster alter‑ego, the Business Cats, and the Canadian trio — Pudding, Onyx, and Olive — who run the Oreo Cat empire. Milo and Poppy (the black cat who never blinks) always deliver drama, and Maisie is the newest chaos intern in that household. Walter the Wizard Cat casts spells daily. If you displease him you will be sent to the VOID.

And then there are Kurt and Gary — the emotional support duo of the entire internet. Kurt, with his soulful eyes and “I’ve seen things” expression, radiates the energy of a cat who has read your diary and still loves you. Gary, meanwhile, is pure serotonin in whisker form — the kind of cat who could fix a bad day just by existing. Together they’re the quiet heartbeat of Cat Internet, the ones you check on like old friends.

I love them all.
But none of them — none — get into the kind of nonsense Banner does.

Banner’s Resume: Director of Illumination

You may recall Banner’s 3 a.m. hobby: turning on the bathroom light.
Not with a paw tap.
Not with a gentle nudge.
No — with bite marks in the switch.

Every light switch in this house is now in protective custody behind child‑proof covers. Banner considers this a personal challenge.

Nanaki, the orange upside‑down kitty, might give him a run for his money — Nanaki recently learned to turn on the oven.

Meet Nanki and his long suffering hooman

Banner hasn’t figured that out yet, but he does enjoy warming his behind on mine whenever it’s on. So we’re… halfway there.

And Now: Head of Printer Operations

But here’s where Banner truly sets himself apart.

Banner has decided the printer is his personal chaos button, and he is committed to pressing it at every opportunity.

This cat has exactly two modes:

  1. Sleeping like a Victorian child in a painting
  2. Causing administrative disasters

He’s not trying to print anything.
He’s summoning the Paper Spirits.
In his little cat brain, the logic is simple:

“I push this button, and the house makes snow.”

Incident #1: The Paper Blizzard

The first time he found the print button, I got one blank page.
Not ideal, but survivable.

When I returned home later, the entire paper tray was empty. Pages were scattered across the floor like confetti after a parade. The culprit? Snoozing peacefully in the bedroom, pretending innocence.

Incident #2: The Full Diagnostic Suite

A couple days of peace passed.
Then Banner apparently thought:

“I haven’t caused any chaos lately.”

I heard the printer whir to life.
There he was — sitting smugly on top of it like a tiny furry CEO.

I expected another blank page.
Nope.

He triggered a full diagnostic.

Four pages of printer diagnostics.
A full‑color test page.
And then — because he’s thorough — a one‑page printer report.

At this point, the printer needs a warning label:

“Not cat‑proof. Not even a little.”

Banner’s IT Career Begins

This cat isn’t playing anymore. He has:

  • Initiated a system audit
  • Run a diagnostic suite
  • Possibly applied for a job in IT

Honestly, the printer should automatically stamp each page:

“Triggered by: Banner the Menace.”

Emergency Protocol: Power Button

That was the last straw.
I turned off the power button.

They say most cats never figure out power buttons — they’re too flush, too boring, and they don’t make satisfying noises. Banner prefers the chaos buttons: the ones that beep, whirr, and spit out paper like a Vegas slot machine.

But on my printer, all the buttons are flush… and he’s already mastered those. I may not be safe unless I unplug the machine entirely.

Banner’s Troubleshooting Sequence

If he tries again, I fully expect him to follow the classic cat IT protocol:

  1. Stare at printer
  2. Tap it once
  3. Tap it harder
  4. Sit on it
  5. Yell at it
  6. Walk away like he never cared

He may not have been able to change the lightbulb for me, but he can run my printer like an IT pro.

The Printer’s Future Looks Grim

Who knows what he’ll get into next — especially once he borrows the orange cat brain cell again. Whatever he thinks of next, I just hope it doesn’t involve electricity, diagnostics, or anything with a paper tray.

Banner and his old printer before it bit the dust. I wonder if it got clogged with orange cat hair?


 

Clickbait Has Entered the Chat — And I’m Not Having It

orThe curse of Oak Island is a major clickbait site. Photo of Alex Lagins and text is perfect example of the misinformation presented


My Feed Has Become a Circus

Okay, friends. I’ve got another gripe, and this one has been simmering like a pot of pasta water you swear you’re watching… right up until it boils over.

Let’s talk about clickbait — those dramatic, over‑the‑top posts that show up in your feed looking like they were written by someone who gets paid per exclamation point. They pop up on Facebook for me, but honestly, they’re multiplying like gremlins everywhere.

And here’s the funny part: for all the talk over the years about “fake news,” these posts are out here proving that plenty of people besides politicians love throwing that phrase around — and sometimes for good reason.

Oak Island: Apparently Everyone Is Injured, Missing, or Quitting

If you follow The Curse of Oak Island, you know exactly what I mean. According to my feed:

  • Alex Lagina has had 47 near‑fatal accidents
  • Marty has quit the show at least six times
  • Billy Gerhart has been injured, hospitalized, abducted by aliens, or all three

I binge‑watched episodes just to check — not a single mention. Not even a dramatic limp. So unless the finale involves a plot twist where everyone suddenly reveals their secret injuries, I’m calling nonsense.

Skinwalker Ranch: Clickbait’s Second Home

Then there’s Skinwalker Ranch. Recently the rumor mill insisted Dr. Travis Taylor was leaving the show to join Ancient Aliens.

Except… he’s been on Ancient Aliens for years. This is not new or  dramatic. This is not even mildly surprising.

But clickbait doesn’t care about facts. Clickbait cares about CHAOS.

Josh Gates: The Internet’s Favorite Target

And poor Josh Gates. The man can’t sneeze without a dozen fake headlines appearing:

  • “Josh Gates hospitalized after mysterious expedition”
  • “Josh Gates fails dangerous Bigfoot mission”
  • “Josh Gates quits everything forever”

Meanwhile, Josh is probably somewhere eating a granola bar and minding his business.

Expedition Bigfoot: The Latest Victim

Last night I saw a post claiming Expedition Bigfoot was canceled because of a “major discovery.”

Sure. And I’m the Queen of England.

No announcement or source. No evidence. Just a dramatic headline and a blurry photo of a forest.

Why This Drives Me Up a Wall

I miss the days when the internet was a place to get information, not a scavenger hunt where every clue leads to a website that looks like it was built in 2009 and written by a caffeinated raccoon.

If I want to know whether a show has a new season coming, I shouldn’t have to dig through twelve fake news sites, three AI‑generated thumbnails, and a pop‑up asking me to “accept cookies” like I’m entering a bakery.

Is It Just Me?

Please tell me I’m not the only one drowning in this nonsense. If your feed has become a carnival of fake headlines too, pull up a chair — we can commiserate together.


 

It’s Angel Food No Matter What You Call It

Partially sliced angel food cake covered in light toffee‑flavored whipped topping, with a single slice served on a blue plate.


 Dirty Angel Cake (or Angel Toffee Cake… depending on who you ask)

You’ve all heard the expression “It’s what’s for dinner.”
Well, this one is “It’s what’s for dessert.”

I stumbled across this recipe, and it immediately caught my eye — interesting, a little nostalgic, and just begging to be tried. And before the purists clutch their pearls, let me offer a pre‑emptive apology. Yes, it calls for Cool Whip. No, you don’t have to use it. If whipped cream is more your style (or your conscience), swap away.

Now, full disclosure:
I like angel food cake plain… or with fresh strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream or Cool Whip. I’m equal‑opportunity when it comes to toppings. But this recipe sounded intriguing enough to break my usual routine.

And I really cut corners here.
Store‑bought angel food cake.
Cool Whip straight from the tub.
A bag of toffee bits.
I made absolutely nothing from scratch. Shame on me. And yes I admit, mine’s a little more messy than the pro’s but I bet mine tastes just as good.

And you know what? I tossed it all together and ended up with this light, fluffy, toffee‑kissed angel cake that tastes way fancier than the effort involved.

Some call it Dirty Angel Cake.
Others call it Angel Toffee Cake.
Whatever the name, it’s yummy.

For the Full recipe click here

Cake lovers, there’s more ideas where this came from


 

Are Aliens Really Coming For Us?

A disc‑shaped UFO with glowing blue lights hovers in a dark, starry sky, casting a bright beam onto the mist below.


UFOs on Dusty Roads: From Roswell to the Berkshires

The Western Stories We All Know

I don’t know about you, but when I think of Aliens and UFOs, my mind goes straight to the wide‑open western states. It all started with the Roswell incident in 1947 in New Mexico. Then came the Socorro sighting in 1964 — the one many consider the keystone case because of the credibility of the witness. Police officer Lonnie Zamora described an egg‑shaped craft and two small beings, and his steady demeanor has kept that story alive for decades.

Even now, so much UFO lore clings to the Southwest. When I visited Sedona, I heard plenty of stories. I didn’t see anything myself, but the talk was everywhere. And of course, we have the popularity of The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch and the two‑part Destination X deep dive into the high strangeness of the Uintah Basin.

New England’s Surprising UFO Legacy

But New England has its own UFO history — and it’s a lot richer than people realize.

Probably the most famous case is the 1961 abduction of Betty and Barney Hill. Imagine my surprise when I came across the sign marking the location of their encounter just outside Lincoln, New Hampshire.

Massachusetts has more than its share of sightings too, especially in the Bridgewater Triangle and the Freetown State Forest. But even I was caught off guard when I learned about the Berkshire UFO incident in 1969 in Sheffield, MA. This wasn’t just a sighting — it was an abduction.

The Berkshire Encounter That Shocked Massachusetts

On the night of September 1, 1969, Thom Reed and his family were driving across the Upper Sheffield Covered Bridge when a brilliant light filled the sky. The Reeds later said the light felt focused on them, and their next memories were disjointed: being taken from their car, finding themselves inside a huge hangar‑like space, and experiencing strange sensations and lost time. The details were hazy, but the family was eventually back in their station wagon, unharmed and with no explanation for the missing minutes.

A Monument to the Unexplained

The account gained so much traction locally that the Great Barrington Historical Society formally recognized the Reed family’s experience as part of the region’s historical record. In 2015, Sheffield even opened the Thom Reed UFO Monument Park at the site, complete with plaques — including one donated by the team behind Ancient Aliens — commemorating the event.

Sightings Close to Home

And the sightings haven’t stopped. As recently as 2025, reports have come in from Taunton, North Attleboro, Avon, Sudbury, and Pembroke. Massachusetts has logged more than 2,000 UFO sightings overall.

So… Are We Alone Out Here?

So… do you believe in aliens?

As I’ve gotten older, my feelings have definitely shifted. I went from a dedicated Trekkie who loved the idea of boldly going where no one had gone before… to a slightly more nervous observer. These days, I find myself leaning toward Stephen Hawking’s view: intelligent life almost certainly exists somewhere out there — but maybe we shouldn’t be in a rush to make contact. After all, first contact didn’t work out so well for the Native Americans when Columbus arrived in the New World.

What do you think — are we alone out here on these dusty roads, or not?