This weekend, we went to the Fluff Festival in Union Square. This event, which is put on by the Somerville Arts Council, is a celebration of peanut butter’s favorite friend. And really, who didn’t eat countless peanut butter-fluff sandwiches as a kid?

Well, it turns out that Fluff is a semi-regional product. Our friend from California had never heard of it, and she ate her first fluffernutter at the festival. I think it might be a difficult product to begin to appreciate as an adult. Just like Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs, Fluff is primarily consumed by those of us still in elementary school.

To be perfectly honest, I do have a container of it up on one of the shelves in my kitchen. It is not often used, and I really only bought it out of necessity. The first school I worked at was peanut free, so I tried making an almond nut butter sandwich. People say that it tastes delicious, just like peanut butter if not better. They are lying. It does not. And so, out $6 for the jar, I opted to buy some Fluff to make the whole affair more palatable. We only ate Skippy (smooth, no chunks) when I was growing up, and to this day it is hard for me to eat any other brand. I was a pretty picky eater, and my family is still amazed every time they see me eat pickles or cheese or anything with mayo on it. At Italian resturaunts, I would get garlic bread with no cheese as my dinner and loved it. Sometimes kids do strange things.

And sometimes, those strange things are just fantastically interesting. 

One of the third grade kids in my afterschool likes to make up stories. We start out talking about real things, having an actual conversation, about Pokemon for example. Then all of a sudden he is talking about how he has every card ever made except for one that he gave to his friend who didn’t have any Pokemon cards, and how his best card has 3 million HP and does levels of damage that don’t sound within any realm of Poke-possibility (spend much time around children in middle elementary school and you very quickly become well versed in the language of Pokemon), and how last year he sold all of his brother’s cards on Ebay for $40,000. I know that this kind of behavior is common, but it is just so interesting how he talks about it like it really happened, even as he is making it up on the spot.

It is also a great creative exercise for him. He doesn’t really like writing in school, but it is clear that he loves to tell these stories. In the past two weeks, he has:
- talked to me for 45 minutes about all of his success on World of Warcraft (a game his older brother is very into)
- explained how a science lesson started off by pushing a rubber ball up a ramp (real) and then bounced off several trampolines in the classroom and then out the window and over the school and off roofs and cars and people and then back to the classroom
- told me about all of the fake money he has and has used with success, including a dollar bill on a string that he pulled out of the store’s cash register after he used it to buy some Pokemon cards (when I asked him if that was stealing, he explained that the owner of the store has a fake charity collection jar on the counter for a dog named Charles who is purple and "very obviously drawn with crayons" and is also not the same purple dog that I made up as I was talking to him)

 Now, if I could ever get him to tell me what actually happend at school…


It has been a busy summer, but I did get to play with the pinhole camera my brother gave me for Christmas last year.

Using the camera is still very experimental. Exposure times are just guesses, not made in any kind of scientific way. But that has also meant that I haven’t taken anything too seriously. Normally (well, back when I used a film camera regularly) I didn’t take too many pictures because I only wanted to take ones I was sure were going to be good. With this camera, I can just take pictures, and not worry about them too much.

Posted in Art