I’ve been doing some cleaning today. I have a bit of an ulterior motive (since “to make things cleaner” never seems to be enough of one). I’m missing a ring. And not just any ring, my favorite ring.

So I’m pretty bummed.

I actually lose rings all the time, but they always seem to turn up someplace. Batted under a piece of furniture by a cat. Thrown into a pocket or purse and forgotten. Or hiding in amongst a large bowl of other rings. Someplace where, when I find it, I usually say, “Ah! Well that makes sense that I’d put it there.”

But pockets have been searched, ring bowls have been scrutinized, and… well, I no longer have a furry best friend to blame it on. And still no ring.

So I’m pretty bummed.

Bummed enough, apparently, to write a rather mundane rant on the subject.

You know the other thing I’m bummed about? Rhubarb. More specifically, the lack of rhubarb-themed dishes. I’m tempted to start some sort of Rhubarb revolution.

I would have thought rhubarb would be a no-brainer as a kind of cool, retro dessert ingredient to be rediscovered. And it’s one of those mysterious “Is it a fruit? Is it a vegetable?” foods, which adds to its awesomeness. And it’s not sweet; it’s got a bite. Again, adding to its overall awesomeness.

At least I think so. When I was little everyone seemed to grow rhubarb in their garden. It was almost like a weed it grew so well. Now I rarely—if ever—see it in the grocery store. Or in gardens. Or on menus. The rhubarb deserves a little more respect.

I’m still bummed and now I’m hungry. Sigh.