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Posts Tagged ‘home’

Where there is smoke…

Cruel Wife came out to show me what she has done and helped me in the shop with moving the bigger stuff around to get ready for the contractor. She’s not very big, but she’s strong. Her first baby come out sideways – she didn’t scream or nuttin. **snorrrrrt-snort-snttt**

15 points if you can guess the movie reference.

Anyway…

About 30-40 min later HackerBoy came running out to the shop hollering “There is something on fire on the stove!”

So we ran back to the house to find it filled with thick heavy smoke. You have NO IDEA how much smoke can come from burning rice. File that away for future reference next time relatives outstay their welcome.

Oh boy oh wow, it is hours later and the house still reeks of it.

Don’t worry, the cats are ok.

I told CW that I am not as fond as all that of brown rice. Used to be white. Now, not so much.

She was all embarrassed but as I pointed out, the boy did the exact right thing and nothing was hurt. All good. Exceptin’ maybe the smoke.

No idea where the goat came from… Might have stolen it from Laura but I put less than 5 percent on that possibility.

20130827-004534.jpg

I have had that happen with other ruminants. And it is embarrassing every time.

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WE HAVE WETURNED.

Arrived back home after ten days of funeral matters, family squabbles, memories, walks and fires on the beach, BBQ’s, birthday parties, good food, beds that are not our beds, etc.  And our cats got their humans back.  They are tickled beyond description.

We left Oregon at 11:30pm last night and arrived at 6:30am local time in good ol’ smelly Detriot.  I guess that clear Oregon air just ain’t for me.

More later – the family is just exhausted after that vacation.

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I Have Weturned.

Tech Update thanks to alert co-worker Black Lab on Crank.

It can blind you instantly if not quicker.  A blue lightsaber laserThat’s 1W at 445nm.  Beautiful blue.  Even working in a high power laser lab that wasn’t a wavelength you saw very often, and certainly nowhere near that bright.

Niiiiice.  That’s what you should look for (if you are still able) in a toy.

****

It has been a long week of moving my father out of his home.  Four of us siblings and our spouses worked four long and solid days.

I got to the point where I said “I’m going to hurt anyway, so I might as well make it worth it.”

Goddamn I hurt.  I can’t wait to go back to work so I can rest up.

So sorry for being out of touch, but it was necessary.

Update:

Girlhead is 7-ish now.  When we were at my father’s I thought to myself and said to myself, “Self, we must teach Girlhead how to shoot a rifle – she is of the proper age.”

At first she was a bit nervous despite wanting to learn and even after bugging me all week long.  She could not understand that I wished to wait until there were lot fewer people around.  She also could not understand that I was dyin’ to teach her and looking forward to it more than she was.

Sunday morning the only people left were us, my father, and my sister and her kids.  So we broke out the weapons.

Every good story should start with “we broke out the weapons”.

I got my pellet gun ready so she could get the idea of what a gun is about.  Once we fired that a few times she was more comfortable with the idea of reaching out and touching something.

So then we got out the Ruger 10-.22 carbine with a scope on it.  I walked her through the steps – load the clip (her fingers aren’t strong enough to fully load it yet but she was able to load the first round every time), pop the clip in, lever one in, safety off, sight the target, aim, slight holding of breath, and squeeeeeze the trigger.

By this point she had a group of eight in a 5-6 inch circle at 25 yards, which is pretty good for a first-time shooter aged 7-ish.  Her Granddad came out and looked at her first grouping and said “You’d have gotten yourself a rabbit!”

Girlhead looked a bit startled by the whole rabbit idea, so I rubbed my belly, licked my lips, and said “Them’s good eatin’.  But it could have been a number of different critters… a rabbit, a squirrel, a squeak, skunk, raccoon, or a bird if it was legal.”  Once she understood that varmintin’ for food or utilitarian purposes such as pest control is ok, it wasn’t a problem anymore.

After hitting paper targets for a while I got a Campbell’s soup can and filled it with water.  She said “I can’t hit that.”

I said “Sure you can – you are already a good shot!”

So she took aim.  The first shot was a tad high but on the next shot and then the six shots following that – hit the can every time.  My chest was nearly bursting with pride.

Brother-in-law went inside and said to Cruel Wife:  “Yep, she’s your daughter.”

Many years ago, after a little bit of familiarization with the handgun, Cruel Wife was able to place six shots in the forehead (with a .357 magnum) of a political figure on the front of a Time magazine, instantly earning the respect of every hunting male in my family.  It helped that the politician was liberal as hell but it still required good aim and good form, especially given the weight of the magnum and the very small size of Cruel Wife.

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Blessed Silence.

Tonight I’m going to grill veggies – asparagus, carrots, onions, green onions, peppers, and probably whatever else isn’t fast enough to run away.

Somewhere I found this recipe by Elizabeth Karmel – it is a Mezzo Soprano Sauce.   REALLY good.

Soprano Sauce
6 anchovy fillets, drained and finely minced
4 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 tablespoon capers, drained and coarsely chopped
2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt

You put it out after brushing the charred veggies a bit with it.  It will be gone before you know it.  Don’t let the anchovy throw you.  It’s good.  You can trust me on this.

I’ve never felt the need to use sea salt because I feel that it is pretentious.  I prefer to use salt recovered from the tears of octogenarian Himalayan sherpas.  It costs $875 per one-third ounce.

My mother-in-law, Food Nazi, will probably cluck her tongue and shake her head at the oil and salt but… my house, I get the option to make what I want.  That’s the way this stuff works.

****

Wilson sent me this.  He’s on my bucket list now.

Barney Frank relaxing at a small party with friends.

****

Well, Cruel Wife, Girlhead, Frankenboy, and CW’s parents – Old Coot and Food Nazi  – all took off to take Girlhead to a birthday party with one of her little friends.

HALLELUJAH!! SILENCE!

None of them did anything wrong, it’s just with all the chattering, yelling, pounding, drywalling, barking, and nagging/yammering… geez, it is nice to not hear noise for a while, even if only for a few hours.

I also hate having every move I make questioned.  Everything.  Anything you do in such an environment will have one person, adult or otherwise, who has to know why you’re doing something that way.  Strangely, not one person listens to what you have to say beyond that.  Total pandemonium.

I’m going to go fire up my tablesaw, light up a cigar, and rebuild a window frame.  And another window frame.  And a door frame.  And… damn, a lot of little things get broken when remodeling, you know?

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I feel like thrice-ground meat being poured into a sausage casing.  (Think “LiquidMeat“)

Flight was good, once Kap’n Kangaroo bounced us to our gate in Detroit.

Arrived on the tarmac with the tripartite requisite met for coming home:

I have a cold – a really bitchin’ lung-shredder of a cold

I strained myself lugging 400+ pounds of luggage around (strained everything, I think)

It is hot, humid, and we have no A/C for some reason known only to Forces of Evil (IRS, Obama, MDOT)

But we’re home.  My own bed, my own pillow, my fridge, my remote control, my riding lawn mower, and I can get back to kicking my ca… well, no, I can’t kick my cat anymore.  Poor little guy.  But I just looked and his gravestone is still in place, so the stone is heavy enough and I buried him deep enough to keep wild animals from snacking.  Now I must find a way to explain to my five year old why he isn’t here, when she notices.  Damn, damn, damn.

More tomorrow or tonight, depending on how I’m a-feelin’.

Drop me an e:mail if’n you’re out there.  I’ll be cruising the moronosphere, trolling for tidbits.  I’ve been tidbitless for so long….

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