But will it make a turd?

I love my dear wife, even with her fanaticism concerning weight loss. She often cooks and the food is usually good but at times it can be.... etheral in nature. Today was a special day though :)

I once asked an older gentleman why he didn't like lettuce. He told me that he actually didn't mind the taste of lettuce, but it didn't have enough substance "to make a good turd with". Basically, his idea of good food was anything that would "make a turd" the next morning.

Breakfast today was good food.

We had real bacon- fried on the stove top, not precooked/devoid of fat stuff reheated in the microwave or oven. Then while the wife scrambled her artificial egg whites from a carton I fried three real eggs (fresh from the shell) in the bacon grease as eggs *should* be cooked. While I was working on the bacon and eggs, Amanda was busy cooking grits with a one pound block of Monterrey Jack cheese in them and loads of butter, and big horkin' biscuits that were soon filled with tons of butter and jelly.

If you've never had a breakfast this good you should understand that this kind of meal will generally hold you through lunch, and depending on what time you eat it could even tide you over until dinner. This is the kind of breakfast that I used to eat as a kid, or on camping trips. I think it is sad that people don't have the time to cook a real breakfast anymore.

Especially the kind of breakfast that will make a turd :)

My own gravity field...

Wow. I've done it. I quit smoking, quit using nicotine gum, and quit staying at a reasonable weight. I am now heavier than I have ever been in my life. I weighed myself today and came in at a whopping 196.5 lbs, give or take a pound (it's a cheap scale). The most I remember weighing in the past was the last time I quit smoking and that was 194 lbs.

Fortunately I'm fairly tall at 6'1" and with a loose shirt the tire around my midsection doesn't appear to be as large as I perceive it to be.

The wife, however, insists on cooking loads and loads of foods that cause one to gain weight simply by smelling them. This wouldn't be so bad if she would assist in eating some of these foods, but she is trying to reach her goal weight and eats like a canary. She just cooks the fattening stuff to live vicariously watching others eat it. I personally believe that she's trying to make me obese so that she looks tiny when she's with me. She barely weighs the same as a box of crayons as it is!

I suppose I'm going to have to begin a regimen of exercise like I did previously. I used to run 5k every morning before work, and sometimes again when I would get off late at night. It would probably make me feel better to do so but I'm having a hard time getting motivated to start running once more.

To be honest? I'm not into building muscle, I just want to look reasonable in my clothes. That, and not have my own gravity field.

Gaurd Hound, Inc.

I had an interesting week. I offered my ultimate wisdom to the 12 year old in the form of suggesting that cat fur was impervious to the adhesive properties of chewing gum. Upon noting this fact on Facebook, I was inundated with suggestions on how to remove gum from a cat:)

Note: No animals were harmed during the course of this experiment!

In another realm of the animal world Hound has become quite the Guard Hound (tm) that I've been training him to be. He now barks when anyone knocks on the door, fiercely defends his back yard, and howls mercilessly when we are not in the same room where he can adequately protect us. You have to understand- in his own eyes Hound stands approximately 3 feet tall at the shoulder and is just over 250 lbs of pure muscle.

Here is a picture of Hound eating a cow's ear:


I have NO idea where the rest of the cow is.


Speaking of eating things... the wife gave me five pounds of tasso for Xmas, and actually learned to cook real red beans. I am in heaven. It's been a few years since I've had a proper pot of read beans to eat, and they are a food that I simply don't get tired of consuming. I am a happy camper:)

Another year down....

Well, just made it through yet another Christmas. This is not my time of year... I really don't like trying to figure out what to get everyone while I'm on a strict budget and then worrying that whatever I chose wasn't considered adequate or acceptable.

This year (against the rules of being a husband) I got the wife a KitchenAid stand mixer. I chose this because the only other thing she really wanted was out of my price range and also because on many occasions I've had to pull her away from the displays in the store due to the fact that she would pet the mixers and coo like a dove.

Fortunately, she seems to be happy getting a mixer as a Christmas present. Not all men are as fortunate as I am:) And as a bonus? There are about 73 different attachments that can be used as fall-back gifts on birthdays and other holidays. Not that I would do that, but it's nice to have the option.

Now it's time to start with birthdays for everyone. The kids are easy, since I have two in college and one in high school that are always happy to get whatever amount of monies that I can send. Thankfully my wife is thoughtful enough to tell me throughout the year exactly what items I should add to my list of potential gifts for most occasions. She's so subtle about it too.... "Honey, put xxxxx on the gift list." It works for me!

April will mark year three of a five year long goal that I am working on and I am so very happy that I only have two years left to reach that goal. Life will be much simpler and more relaxed once I get to that point. (I won't share the goal, but I did want to share the sentiment.)

I am making plans to visit my older children this summer. I'll probably spend a week with them and they have already planned out our activities for that point in time. It should be a very happy reunion:) It's harder than I thought it would be for them to leave home for school. I often have to stop and remind myself that they are of legal age and the ability to "protect" them is now extremely limited. The time spent rearing them seemed so very long in the process but somehow feels to be a totally inadequate amount in hindsight. It's hard to consider the fact that I've either done a good job or not. The rest of life is up to them. *sigh* I don't feel ready to let them go, but I have no option.

Now that this year is done, I only have to wait for the cats to finish stripping the Christmas tree of needles so that I can take it down and spend countless hours vacuuming them out of the carpet.

Oh joy. *smirk*

Happy New Year:)

Evolution?

I made a trip to the eye doctor today since my last trip was almost two years ago and I'm not seeing quite as clearly as I once did.

The doctor asked if I wanted "Progressive" glasses, the no-line glasses for those of us in need of bifocals. I informed him unequivocally that I tried those for about 8 months at one point in time and I simply could not get used to them. He then informed me that due to the nature of my vision issues, I would need trifocals.

I had a few options-

Go with the progressives and get a narrower field of vision and hate wearing them because you look like an owl since you have to turn your head to the direction that you want to focus on. Not to mention the fact that I hated them the first time around, there's not much chance of me falling in love with them this time.

-or-

Get a taller lens and put the trifocals on them, still looking like an owl with the "big-eye" lenses framing my face.

-or-

Order multiple sets of glasses.

I did somewhat of a compromise. I ordered two sets of bifocals. Set number one will have distance and computer reading prescriptions in them, along with photo-gray ( the old timer's language for "Transitions".) The other set will be normal glasses with one prescription for computer and one for reading. This way I'll be able to work on spreadsheets and such without having to switch.

As for the evolution in the title? I'm wondering if I will look like a fly when I'm 80 and need a different prescription for each foot of distance that I try to take in. Would that be considered as evolving or devolving?

Now all I need is a pair of glasses to wear when I look into the mirror each morning. One that sees everything but gray hair and wrinkles::::)

Torture at the table.

I think that I'm going to start a grass-roots movement in the state of Florida.

For starters, I love salt on my food. Copious quantities even. Salt poured liberally onto food simply multiplies the wonderful flavor of whatever one eats. To be sure, it's not the same to cook the food with lots of salt because cooking alters the way salt interacts with the food being served. You have to be able to add salt to taste after the food is prepared.

When I first came to Florida, I noticed two things-

• The over-abundance (verily a plague) of whole grain breads.

• Every freakin' restaurant in the state uses the "grind it as you need it" shakers for salt and pepper.

Wheat bread in itself is fairly innocuous, when used as a building material or as insulation blown into the attic. To actually consume the stuff by choice is beyond my comprehension.

Salt, on the other hand, is a necessity. What restaurant owners here don't seem to understand is that for the hard-core saltaholic there is no way to hold a two pound bacon cheeseburger in one hand and salt each bite with the other without all of the ingredients sliding from between the buns into your lap when two hands are required to operate the damned salt dispenser. (The meat has to be salted, just coating the lettuce with salt and waiting for it to mingle with the meat as you chew is not an acceptable practice.)

I'm fairly certain that the "grind your own" salt mills were introduced as a cost-control measure by the restaurant industry. The bottles ship only one third full, and they don't actually dispense salt. Instead, the illusion of accomplishment is perpetuated by the fact that you would rather eat your food while it's hot than to look like an idiot twisting and twisting and twisting the salt mill over your plate as if working a grist mill until you actually get something out of the damned thing. This keeps them from ever having to replace those dispensers.

I think that those of us who need old-world salt dispensers should be able to get a little blue "Handicapped" table tent to carry with us. It would be the size of a credit card so that it fits comfortably in your wallet, and it would fold open to be placed at the edge of your table when you sit down in a restaurant to alert the wait-staff that you require a one-handed salt shaker when you are eating. If they can't provide a normal salt shaker, they should be required to stand at your table and work the salt mill to your satisfaction so that the food can actually be consumed before it falls back to room temperature.

I may start carrying my own shaker.

In a holster.

On my hip.

Hobbies

I think everyone should have hobbies.

Two mornings ago I was grabbing a bite to eat before I left for a night shift at work. Keep in mind that I time my departures just so in order to be to work at the appropriate time. I placed a bowl of (excellent) chili that Amanda had cooked the day before into the microwave and set the time. I then began to fill my thermos with coffee when all of a sudden a great gray ball came flying into the kitchen through one door, leaped onto the counter (knocking down three containers of animal treats), flew six feet from there and landed spread-eagled on the kitchen table, slid across the table, hit the window, landed on the floor and leaped through the other door.

Not unusual except that there was an open bag of chips, two diet cokes with one sip missing, a candle, and several dozen individually wrapped candies on the table.

Until the cat cleared off everything but the two cokes. Against the laws of physics, the cokes remained lying on the table gently emptying their contents across the top of it as they spun in slow and lazy circles in order to cover maximum surface area with soda. Not too bad until except that the table is an older style with minute cracks between the boards that make up the top of it.

So I spent the next 20 minutes cleaning off the table, clearing the mess of candies and coke-soaked chips from the floor, and mopping it all up.

I wish it had been an off day. I would have spent the remainder of my time hunting the cat down and shaving him.... with a dull pocket knife.

As it is, he's given me an idea for my next hobby- "Cat in a Bottle". A bottle with a very small opening. One piece at a time.