Monday, 23 February 2015

3524 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"Every day another load of stupid"

I thought I had perfected a method of cooking steak to any degree of "doneness". I probably have but I assumed the quality of the meat had little to do with the taste. Tonight was bingo night so I had planned a meal that could partially cook during the games. I bought a filet from Walmart Sunday for tonight's dinner. I was also going to have steamed broccoli with cheese sauce. I found a recipe for the sauce and planned on making it while the broccoli was steaming.

Just before stepping out for Bingo I bagged the filet with inserted thermometer and put it in my oven set for 175F. When I got back the internal temp was 137F so I took the bag out and let the steak rest. Put the broccoli to steaming and started the sauce. Damn I had no milk. Oh I have dried mild so I whipped up a quart. Mixed melted butter, flour, milk and shredded cheddar cheese. While waiting for the crap to melt I took the steak out and seared all surfaces on a super hot cast iron skillet. The filet was oddly shaped and of varying thicknesses. Took out the broccoli, drizzled on the cheese sauce and plated the seared filet. Sat at my desk and cut into the steak. I had to go get my razor knife to get a good slice. When I checked the meat I saw the grain running every which way. The cut reminded me of the muscle structure in a shoulder or 7 steak. The filet was filled with gristle and truly inedible. The cheese sauce tasted of raw flour. All in all it was a despicable meal. I will never buy meat at WalMart. My new meat supply will be HEB or Kroger.

Tomorrow I need to was tonight's dinner dishes and make a birthday cake for junior daughter. Happy Birthday kid!

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 10:25 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Friday, 20 February 2015

3521 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"Land O'Goshen"

That was splendid Bass-shit eating fish. Ever since I saw the "Dirty Jobs" episode with Mike Rowe at a Bass farm in Arizona I have wanted to try Talapia. The Talapia was used to decompose the dung from the Bass so that the farm is not so bad on the environment. Talapia is a mild tasting tender fleshed white fish with tiny guts. After I started the prep I realized I did not have some of the listed ingredients. I made several executive decisions about substitutes. My choices must have been OK since the dish was absolutely delectable. My recipe follows.

I had an appointment with my GP today. He took me, temporarily off furosemide and put me on Maxzide 25 mg. once a day. My feet had been swelling more each day and hurting. Since I started the Maxzide 2 days ago the swelling has almost disappeared and my feet do not hurt. Of course, I am peeing like a herd of Clydesdales. Surprisingly the Maxzide is the older medicine and much cheaper than the Furosemide. In my shower tonight I could actually wash my feet without jerking and trying to overcome very sensitive (ticklish) feet.

My cat is strange. He will not drink from a bowl of still water. He drinks from a running faucet. Every time I go to the throne room he jumps up on the lavatory and taps my wrist asking me to turn on the water. I have left home alone for 2 days with only bowl water. When I return he is desperate for a drink and the water level in the bowl is the same as when I left. But..he recently discovered I keep a cup of water on my desk for late night pill taking, I thought the water had changed in the last week. This evening I was at my desk and he jumped up and stuck his head into the water cup and obviously drank his fill. I have been drinking after a cat. A butt licking litter scratching rotted fish eating cat. Thank God I had already had dinner. From now on the cup will be covered.

Whether you think you can, or you think you can't--you're right.

Baked Tilapia with Garlic Butter

2 tablespoons Falfurrias butter unsalted
2 cloves garlic in brine, pressed
dash pepper
dash salt
pinch dried dillweed
dash ground cumin
2 tilapia fillets, about 4 ounces each

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 18 minutes
Total Time: 20 minutes
Yield: Makes enough for 1 big bellied old man

In saucepan, combine butter, garlic, pepper, salt, dillweed, and ground cumin. Heat over low heat until butter is melted and starts simmering. Remove from heat.

Spoon a little of the butter mixture in the bottom of a square cake pan (line pan with foil) then place tilapia fillets on the buttered area. Brush top of each tilapia fillet with the seasoned butter mixture.

Bake at 350° for 18 minutes, or until tilapia flakes easily with a fork. Every oven is different so check doneness when fish looks OK.

Tomorrow I am going to pick up my new ice cream maker from my Walmart on Dunvale and I may buy a cool wooden crate to use for grocery shopping. It would mount perfectly on "my little mule".

A Catholic Priest, a Protestant Minister and a Rabbi are discussing the question of when does life begin.

"Without any doubt," says the Priest, "life begins at the moment of conception - - when the egg is fertilized."

"No, no!" says the Protestant Minister. "Life begins at the moment of birth - - when the baby emerges."

"No way," says the Rabbi. "Life begins when the last kids are out of college, and the dog dies."

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 10:10 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Wednesday, 18 February 2015

3519 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"was asleep but now I am awoke!"

The quoted material below is from the Houston Chronicle. I know exactly what he is reporting. During the hallucinating stage of my pneumonia I felt the same confusion. And long after discharge from the hospital I struggled to remember when the hallucinations really started and have they really ended. To this day I have periods at night where I am not sure where I am or who I am. Thank God for Rascal. His "nowness" helps me find my center again and again.

"In October 2002, I woke up on a train platform in Secunderabad, India, with no idea who I was or why I was in India. I was picked up by a police officer who figured I was a drug addict. I was at a guest house he had taken me to when I began to hallucinate.

My behaviour was combative and irrational so I was taken to a hospital, where I punched a nurse, and then to a psychiatric facility. After two days of hallucinating, the anti-psychotics and sedatives had mellowed me enough to be unstrapped. The nurses brought me things to keep me occupied: newspapers, pens. My hallucinations had convinced me that I was failing a cosmic-soul pop quiz; I crouched over the newspapers, believing that the answer was hidden somewhere in them. I circled words and drew complicated diagrams of sentences I found encoded in the disparate articles. The flat newsprint was overlaid with my fevered brain's belief that there was more being communicated. I just needed to work harder to figure it out.

I scratched and scribbled, making connections, trying to conjure spiritual luminosity out of the Hyderabadi newspaper, The Deccan Chronicle. My biggest problem was that my pen would punch through the newsprint, dragging a rip into the page. When this happened, I'd start crying.

There were moments when everything was clear. I was in a mental institution. In India. This was weird, but I was safe. Everything was going to be all right. I had doctors who squeezed my shoulders and called me Mr. David. I was diagnosed with acute pleomorphic distress. There was a diagnosis. There was progress. The worst was over. Then there'd be a sparkle in my periphery, and I'd black out.

I'd black out and then snap back awake in no discernable pattern. I'd wake up walking, wake up in the middle of a conversation-the other person looking at me expecting me to finish a sentence I didn't remember starting.

A doctor would later tell me that all of my symptoms were a side effect of a drug I was taking to prevent malaria. He said that mefloquine had a history of doing these things to people. He said I had probably had many "prodromal events" before I woke up on the train platform. Early prodromal symptoms involved confusion, paranoia, and aggression, he said. Had I experienced any of these?

I couldn't begin to describe that those three things were normal reactions to Hyderabadi traffic.

When I came home to Ohio, I tried to communicate what had happened to me to family and friends. And the thing I tried to do was to make it all a joke. This hilarious thing that happened to me (me, of all people) and no one needed to worry about me one bit. But I needed them to worry. I was hoping they'd worry. I was worried.

I was terrified of everything blanking out again. Afraid of waking up somewhere new. As I told everyone I was fine, I could feel these invisible bands tightening around my chest, preventing me from sleeping, preventing me from getting a full breath in. It wasn't something I could point to. It was all in my head.

I felt so much shame for harboring such things in my head, for doing such things to myself. What was wrong with me that I should be the one susceptible to the side effects of this commonly prescribed medicine? I was flawed at the cellular level.

When I was recovering in Ohio, I got an e-mail from a cousin. She said she was so sorry about what had happened to me and that she'd had such a great time talking with me at a wedding; and she was happy that we'd reconnected.

I wrote her back. I punched letters on the keyboard and told this woman how lost I felt, how messed up I was, how I was wiped clean and struggling to remember anything, much less the people I talked to at weddings. I wrote her and told her about prodromal, mefloquine, and pleomorphic, this stupid vocabulary that I was thrust into. I told her that the doctor couldn't tell me for sure if it all was going to happen again at any moment. This was rat-crap bottom, and I was grasping at anything to keep from slipping into total paranoia. I was still kind of convinced that God hated me and was disappointed in how stupid I was. The e-mail kept scrolling farther and farther down the page in a single unbroken paragraph of rage and fear and loneliness addressed to a woman I couldn't have picked out of a police lineup of three.

I erased it and wrote that of course I remembered talking with her at the wedding and thanked her for her concern. It was wild there for a while, I typed, but I was fine now. Perfectly fine.

It was easier to fake being sane then to admit that I needed help. To be the one who needs help is bad enough. I was making people negotiate their schedules around my care. The fact that my affliction was mental and didn't show up on any MRI, CT scan or X-ray made it even worse. My meaning-making brain that could have articulated the problem was itself the problem. Mental illness isolated me. People who break their legs have casts people can sign. I had trouble ordering breakfast in a crowded restaurant. It was embarrassing. And that isolation and that embarrassment compounded my symptoms and made it even more difficult to ask for help.

People often ask if I'm fine now. My answer is that I know to ask for help now. It might not be fine, but it's a version of it."

More Information
David Stuart MacLean will be part of Blaffer Gallery's panel discussion "Memory and Identity: Five Writers talk about the difficult and dynamic relationship between the two." at 4 p.m. Tuesday, Feb. 17. (The other writers are Peter Turchi, author of A Muse and a Maze; Lacy M. Johnson, author of The Other Side; Nancy Pearson, author of Two Minutes of Light; and Jameelah Lang, Ph.D candidate, University of Houston Creative Writing Program.) The event is free and open to the public, but you need register online for tickets.

Went to bed and fell asleep quickly at 8:30 pm after a dinner of Lentil soup and the best cornbread I have made to this date. Before dinner I steamed two bell peppers and stuffed them with my special rice/beef/chorizo sausage and put in cooking bowl for dinner tomorrow. I have a rescheduled doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Good night all. Give your closest loved one a hug or kiss as appropriate.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 11:27 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Tuesday, 17 February 2015

3518 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"You know why you don't see elephants hiding in trees?

They are really good at it!"

For no particular reason Rascal and I went to bed at midnight and slept like the dead. About three am he jumped and ran across the bed. I heard scratching. When I woke at 5 am for my morning pill I discovered he had pissed like an elephant in his litter box. I guess he has a swollen prostate also. We tumbled back to sleep and woke refreshed and starving at noon. Fortunately I am out of his reeking food. He had chicken and I had sausage gravy over fresh baked homemade biscuits. I am almost as good as the store bought biscuit in the tube. I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I found Rascal sleeping on the window table.

The pig is a nearly full piggy bank. It is so heavy I am afraid to lift it. I keep it close to the potted tomato as a heat sink. I bought it at a silent auction many years ago at a Burton Cotton Gin Festival. After I took the picture I returned to the kitchen and dug the bag of frozen farm-raised catfish out of the stuffed freezer section of my refrigerator. I am considering buying a small chest style deep freeze. If I find one on Craig's list or free cycle I will spring. I picked out 6 medium sized pieces and put them on a paper plate so they could thaw. I put the plate out of the way so I could not be tempted to start cooking too early. I worked at my desk paying bills and writing letters. Eventually my shadow abandoned the table and snuck onto my desk between the keyboard and the monitor. I need to get him to a vet because he has a bad case of farts.

I checked several time during the afternoon and the fish was not yet thawed. I went downstairs to get the mail. When I got back to my apartment the fish was completely thawed. I blotted up the water and washed the catfish with cold water from the tap. I used a Louisiana brand fish fry coating and fried the catfish. I also steamed the broccoli in a steamer bag in the microwave.

This was the first time I used the microwave since Christmas. The catfish was very good. The only problem was not enough fish. Next week I will fry at least 14 pieces. The secret really is having properly thawed fish.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 11:05 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Monday, 16 February 2015

3517 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!


To quote Redd Fox the junkman.

My stomach has been in semiserious queasiness all day. It started this morning when I opened a new carton of Fancy Feast for "Mr Royalness" The very first can reeked of rotted fish or beef or thousands of migrant workers or the entire creation on Formalhult. I thought I was going to heave as I dumped the glop on his dish and chopped it into bite sized pieces. Good god it stank and looked so revolting. As soon as I put it down he was all over it. He licked the oily liquid first and stopped to wash his moustache and then set upon the solid filth. He was actually "umming" and purring. I thought I was gonna heave!. After he finished I carried the plate to the bathroom and washed it in the sink. I thought I was gonna heave! I put the cleaned plate face down on a pristine part of the litter box and closed the bathroom door and sprayed Febreze under the door. Now I know whet morning sickness must be like.

Back to the kitchen to fix my breakfast. I thought I was gonna puke. I sprayed "Fresh Rain" Febreze into every nook and cranny of the kitchen. Cracked two huge evil looking eggs into a small skillet. In another skillet I piled in a jumble of bacon pieces created by cutting 6 slices into 4 equal lengths. I got so busy arranging bacon that I forgot the eggs. By the time I noticed they had semi-liquified and I decided not to scramble but rather to just flip the whole thing. No matter what I tried they would not flip. Instead I ended up with a rolled up tube affair.. When I thought that was done I plated it and then and only then remembered I wanted hash brown patties. Dropped two frozen patties into hot skillet and proceeded to burn hell out of them. Bacon was done, eggs done, and finally patties seemed cooked. I settled to read newspaper and eat breakfast. Egg tube was rubbery solid and cold in the center. Bacon was great but had all the flavor cooked out of it. Hash browns were icy in center and burnt on the outside. Coffee had no sugar. And newspaper was full of blood and guts and beheadings and etc. I thought I was gonna hurl. Dumped all the crap in the trash and headed out to do combat with Comcast.

On the way I stopped at Whataburger and got a "BOB". At MacDonalds I got the best cup of real coffee available in America. If Starbucks coffee was free and MacDonald's was 5$ I would still prefer mickyD.

At Comcast a pretty young thing (Doureit) took care of my problem and explained the extra charges. Did not like it but I did give permission to one of the kids to call a service man to fix an internet problem.

I saw the man who had told me about the "ownership" of beggar street intersections. He was standing on the medium at the intersection of Highway 290 and West Tidwell. That intersection still is and has been under heavy construction for a year. Traffic never stops. I rolled down the window and gave him 2$ and wished him luck. I asked him how he was doing but by that time my light was green and the cars behind were honking.

I was so cold when I got back here I fell into bed and piled on all the cover I could reach.

I will be so glad when I finally learn how to produce edible food every time.

Tomorrow Breakfast--biscuits and sausage gravy, coffee; Lunch-BLT, Apple Juice; Dinner--fried catfish, steamed broccoli, V8 Spicy Hot.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 12:01 AM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Tuesday, 17 February 2015 12:02 AM CST
Friday, 13 February 2015

3814 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"No cockle shell here!"

To quote an old child's poem. My tomato plant has produced a real tomatolette. In honor of the unborn child of some woman who married some grandson of the astoundingly ugly British queen Elizabeth, I too will call my future tomato "Diana".

At her present size I estimate her value at $97 expended by 0.044 pounds. That is approximately a present evaluation of $2200 per pound. That is in the same ball park as gold at $17,919.30 per pound. I know it is hard to see but it is that little round thing near the bottom most yellow flower. Diana makes me happy.

My ability to carry those plastic grocery bags from my car to my room has almost completely vanished. The downward tug on my right shoulder is excruciating. As an expedient I have been hanging the bags on the handles of my late wife's electric scooter. A recent expensive failure of a couple of those bags prompted me to start thinking of alternative cargo transfer. If you have ever seen the mess a large can of peeled tomatoes can make from dill pickle relish, a dozen eggs and a large tube of exploding biscuits you can reckon the horror of the scene. I looked like the Pillsbury doughboy had been disemboweled by ravenous broccoli creatures. The picture shows the reconfigured scooter with a full load of groceries. The arm rest have been relocated to the other side and turned upside down. I use three 1 by 2s to construct a platform across the arm rest that now stick out the back of the seat.

The great feature is that the scooter can be returned to its intended configuration in just moments. I have dubbed the machine "my little mule". Carolyn would be horrified by such a use of her scooter. She treated it more gently than she treated herself.

For the last several weeks I have been unable to sleep at night because of my legs "jerking" uncontrollably. I have tried all the medical flubble-dubble and all the old wife's tales to no avail. The bar soap under the cover did only caused the sheets to smell like soap. But I could sleep for hours when Rascal and I settled down for our post lunch nap. In fact I could sleep all day after the sun came up. One evening I put those facts together and decided to experiment. Monday night I turned on the kitchen light, my desk lamp, a work light at the window bench, and the bathroom lights and went to bed. I slept the entire night. Well except for 2 liquid drainage breaks. I have slept well each night this week. I do believe I am afraid of the dark. No, not the night time dark but the long dark that waits for all of us. I want to see it coming so I can beat hell out of it for taking my wife.


Posted by wayne at 11:31 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Thursday, 12 February 2015

3513 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"No Nattering about tonight."

I had planned on bragging about my new baby tomato and blathering away about how I reconfigured my wife's scooter to haul groceries in from the store. BUT I got a picture of my senior grandson in his Navy uniform. He is in for 6 years and should emerge with a college degree and training as a nuclear power specialist. Aint he handsome? Is there any uniform a a sailor's?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Posted by wayne at 10:51 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Sunday, 8 February 2015

3509 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"In no particular order"

The past week has been agony. I had been listening to "beautiful instrumentals" music on DirectTV until they played for two whole days songs about a lover or spouse being dead or gone. So I started watching old TCM movies and all I saw were movies that she and I always watched together. Many of them were so well known to us that we would turn down the sound and do the dialogue. Then Wednesday night I heard her small voice calling my name and asking me for help. Over the next two nights I grew to understand she is "blocked" somehow and needs me to help her move on. So please pray for Carolyn. No I do not believe in ghosts or lingering spirits but something is happening.

I received a wedding invitation by "brainwave" from a couple named Gaither Gail Mendenhall and Victor Cripin Medalle. Actually it was two new voices in my head asking me to record their stories. Just what I need are more characters milling around in my head distracting me at odd moments with snippets of tales that never develop into useable stories. Nevertheless here is part of their current story. She is 26 with a college degree in something. He is 27 and owns and operates a hamburger stand and a car repair shop as well as a meat market on the block near where they grew up. They were neighbors whose parents worked for Magnavox electronics. Her parents are Quakers and his are US citizen emigrated from UK. The parents played cards every Saturday and the two babies then kids were often bathed together and put in the same bed at bedtime. Essentially they grew up together. During their early teen years they discovered sex and have been devoted participants ever since.
After high school she went to Pepperdine and got a BS. He stayed home and grew his teen age jobs into full grown businesses. She moved back home and into his home and became his business associate. They each figured the other would find someone new and exciting and marry. A couple of months ago, Christmas actually, they took a long weekend vacation and went to a tiny New England town to watch the snow. When they got to the hotel they were exhausted so they went to bed early. The next morning they woke coupled and shocked. They had never had unsafe sex. She is now 2 months pregnant and they are getting married next weekend.

His great great grandfather won the Victoria Cross during the Boer War, His great grandfather won it during World War I at Somme. His grandfather was killed and posthumously awarded the VC in the skies over Britain in WWII. His father earned the VC in Bosnia. After that conflict his dad moved to the USA where there is no Victoria Cross and said "enough is enough" Victor was born in Alabama. And joined the USA Army as soon as possible after 9/11. He was awarded a purple heart in Iraq and also in Afghanistan. He earned the Distinguished Service Cross for action in and around Kabul.

Their child will be named the Latin version of satin sheets. The advertisement for the hotel in upper New Hampshire prominently featured satin sheets for all the beds.

Sometime back I bought a tomato plant and pots and soil and etc so that I could have fresh homegrown $50 per pound tomatoes. Since then and due to a pronounced lack of growth I have added a larger gro-light and a pot-heater mat to keep the soil warm. Now the tomatoes are approaching a potential $80 per pound range. But the plant is thriving and even putting on new leaves and blooms. I have constructed a "great wall" around the garden to protect it from the freezing breezes from my fan.

That is a damned lie because I have the room thermostat set at 78 and it feels like summer in here. The plant is a cute little thing and Rascal and I spend much time admiring it. From the drooling I think he is thinking about a tomato plant salad. Which is another good reason for the "great wall". The next picture is a much closer look at the lower set of blooms. If you look real close and believe hard enough you can detect a slight swelling of the backmost bloom. Or where that bloom was. It is almost like a woman who is thrilled to learn she is 3 days pregnant. Imagination is stronger than reality.


I am off my feed. For days my stomach has felt packed with oak leaves. The Kale salad I ate last time had laves like pin oak and ash. The "ash" leaves had long stems (2 to 3 inches). I wish now that I had cut them off. I envision that my guts have interwoven those stems into something like a cheap bamboo rug.

I dropped my old iphone last night and destroyed the display. Today, yes Sunday, I took it to a repair shop. He will have it ready in 4 days and only charge me $125. I do not want a new phone. My iphone has been more than I need. If I were forced to buy a new phone the only upscaling I would do would be to the camera function.. Luckily I had backed up my phone February 1. I do that every month. My calendar, contacts, photos and notes are too precious to loose.

Things are mostly well here in the room in the clouds.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 8:02 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Monday, 2 February 2015

3503 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"from time to time"

I forget what stupendous bargains Maruchan instant lunchs are. I think of them as Ramen noodle but they come in a large variety of flavors in a Styrofoam cup. For less than $0.25 I get a filling chicken noodle soup meal plus a multipurpose styrofoam cup. I have used them for everything from seedling pots to mobile urinals to containers for small parts and spacers to level shelves and etc. I have even used them, after putting in a pressure pot to compress the cell structure, as containers for cooking ingredients. Right now I have a spice drawer full of shrunken Styrofoam cup portions waiting for duty in the mini-kitchen. At one time I used them as fire starters for charcoal briquettes. Then I learned of the carcinogens formed during incomplete combustion of styrene.

Rascal must have just had a wonderful BM. He has been charging around the room challenging all invisible mice and birds and bounding across my desk as I attempt to pay bills. At present I have gotten very good at robbing Peter to pay Paul the money I borrowed to induce Mehitbel to persuade archy to write a proposal to Peter's wife asking her to assure Peter would be in a certain dark alley at an appointed time. At each step of the process I wring out just enough money to keep the creditors limited to snarky letters and invoices.

Would you look at that. My mind done wandered off into the olden days. Just yesterday I got on the elevator here at the 9th floor and stood waiting. Eventually two of the other residents came by and asked where I was going. Then and only then did I return to "NOW" when we no longer have elevator operators. I lied and told them that the elevator had just arrived and I thought they wanted a ride.

Yep! He had a humongous ripper. I scooped it out and dropped it in the commode. Can't have that thing stinking up the joint.

This week I am going to try again to fry catfish and bake tilapia. No not on the same days. I am also going to fix pinto beans again. Next week I envision another batch of chicken and dumplings. I wonder if I can freeze small portions of the mixture to stuff 2 bell peppers. Hmm that is a silly question. Stauffer does it all the time.

I had planned on a baked potato and venison sausage for dinner. The sausage was a piece leftover from my last batch of pinto beans. It was greenish and smelled funny. Nevertheless I cooked it in the oven for 25 minutes at 450F. I sampled a small piece and threw the rest of the sausage in the trash. Somehow the sausage just seemed off. The sausage discombobulated me so that I forgot to pour myself a glass of August Night wine.

That was one whale of a good Super Bowl game. A quirkly play gave Seattle hope and a quirky play killed that hope. Both teams deserved to win.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 11:02 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink
Saturday, 31 January 2015

3501 Days since retiring July 1, 2005!

"Slept all night in less than 2 hours."

For dinner tonight I prepared a huge inch thick center cut pork chop as I did the filet. Except I lowered the temp and removed the chop from the oven when internal temp was 144F. Thoroughly seared the sides and served with side dish of fried breaded okra and sauerkraut. I was so stuffed that I kept falling asleep during the BBC comedies on PBS. Finally at 9:30 pm Rascal and I tumbled into bed and fell instantly asleep. I slept like a log except for a couple of very vivid but very forgettable dreams. Woke with a start at 11 oclock. I thought I had overslept until I looked outside. Middle of the night! So here I am at 11:16 pm writing an entry.

This morning I needed tape so I went to Home Depot for the double sided tape. I stopped at McDonalds to read the newspaper and enjoy their "big breakfast". I was reading and kind of watching a beggar on the medium of the intersection of Fondren and Westpark. I saw an "orange" car pull up and some sort of conflict ensue between the beggar and the driver. The beggar grabbed up his bag and walked over to where I was setting. He saw me looking and then told me the owner of the street intersection just kicked him out because he did not pay the "lease". He explained that all intersections were "owned" and one had to pay to use them to beg for money. He said the owner told him he did not have enough tricks to earn enough to stay at that intersection. I asked him what happens if one does not pay. He reminded me how fast the cars move and how close they are and then added "nobody cares if we get run over". And you thought you had a tough boss.

I hope I am not awake for the rest of the night. I am gonna take my pills and blood pressure and go back to bed with some hard ass rock music on my ear phones. See you manana.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


Posted by wayne at 11:29 PM CST | Post Comment | Permalink

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