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A fun return to regular programming. The Mayor is so desperate as a "notice me" guy it is funny AND absurd AND needy. I LOVE the responsible nature of the woman from Sri Lanka who salvaged the rubber tree plant. Yeah almost 70% of the mob wants to hack the plant. She recognizes she ended up with this plant on its deathbed and deserves a measure of space to decide what to do next. A hormone enhanced rubber plant SOUNDS exciting! I now finally realize why I don't have to read every genre. I don't eat bread and butter or sweet pickles of any sort. Dill, half-sour and spicy only. Probably means there are lots of books I am simply not destined to try. Lastly, only in a bookstore. The owner is peddling pickles and CHOOSES TO LABEL them "DILLED PICKLES". Swimming against the current, I love it. I just finished a podcast recommended by a friend tryiing to go backward to latin-rooted words and get folks to consider saying data and datum. Just like dilled pickles. Doesn't matter what is right, the train has left the station!

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I noticed the use of "dilled" as well and from short time I spent with Ms. Altshuler I am sure it was a very deliberate choice and an admirable one.

Also, Mr. Dolan, it never occurred to me to reverse engineer the thing and determine what books I might like based on my pickle preferences. My faves are pickled carrots (!!!) and cauliflower. Pickled onions are great when they go on top of things. Perhaps this explains my love of Edith Wharton.

Also (semi-spoiler alert) there is big news coming next issue re: rubber plant BUT DON'T TELL ANYONE.

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BTW you LOST me with Edith Wharton :( -- I will continue to hide your secret in plain sight...

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The relationship between pickles and books, if shown to be true, would sour me on the whole affair. I eat all sorts of pickled things also. Pickled asparagus is overrrated. The onions, especially as offered with shawarma is the BEST. I love sauerkraut and can remember back to my dad and a friend making it in the basement. I think just an excuse to spend an afternoon together. The industrial tool for shredding cabbage was far and away the most dangerous thing in our basement, akin to a mandoline the size of a washboard. Weird what you remember.

Whatever happens to the rubber plant, I am confident your readers will remain flexible. Okay, two pun limit reached.

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