The Bismarck Tribune had a fun story yesterday about a 34 year old oil worker from Minot who went fishing early in January in the open waters in the tailrace below the Garrison Dam Power plant on the Missouri River and caught a State Record setting 20 lb, 42 inch long Burbot on an 8 lb test line. Burbot are freshwater fish in the cod family. It was the only bite he got all night. Burbot are sometimes referred to as “poor man’s lobster. That was a huge fish.
I was really tickled by the fisherman’s plans to have the enormous fish “fully encased in a coffee table or display case ” in his living room. This guy is evidently not married, as he was out fishing at 11:30 at night when he caught the fish, and I don’t know many women who want something like that in the living room. It also made me think about what his heirs plan to do with the fish 50 years from now when he is gone and they have to figure out what do do with Grandpa’s fish coffee table.
What are some “interesting” family heirloomsyou have had to contend with? What do you have that your heirs have will trouble finding a place for? What would you do with a stuffed and mounted 20 lb, 42 inch Burbot?
Should be warming up by the time you’re reading this. My mom’s mother’s birthday is February 8, 1899. (She died on February 8, 1990.) and mom always said, by her mom’s birthday you could tell spring was coming and the days are getting longer.
But boy, the wind on Thursday. Blowing out of the North and it’s COLD, yet the sunshine is so nice.
15° but there’s mud on the south side of the shed, and that’s what’s so cool about the weather. The sun sure is getting powerful as we move toward spring and April showers and it will be here before you know it.
We were at supper with friends the other night and comfort food came up. I hadn’t thought of an actual food to call comfort food and I was kinda stumped. Popcorn was a big one though. Lately I’ve been making coleslaw at home. Met a friend at the grocery store one day and he had a bag of cabbage mix in his cart, and I thought that sounded good. A little vinegar, sour cream, mayo, pinch of sugar, some salt and pepper, garlic and onion, and Kelly and I are really enjoying it. I can’t figure out why. I think it’s such a good mix of crunchy, creamy, with just a little ‘zing’ too it. Some of you that know your way around the kitchen better than us; should we replace the bay leave that’s been in our flour container since 1997??
Egg production is down a bit with these temps, but everyone is surviving. I’ve got my new hooded jacket, zak-traks for my new insulated boots, and wearing nitrile gloves under my regular gloves and were doing fine.
This cold weather has me thinking of watering calves when I was growing up. Baby calves were kept in the barn with the cows. (Which is frowned upon but now; too many germs spread from cows to the calves that the calves are not old enough to handle yet.) They were warm and I had a simple float on a bucket for their water. When they were about 3 months old, I moved them up to the other barn. They’d be about 300 pounds and boy, that was a rodeo. It’s only 50 feet from here to there, but they didn’t know where they were going, and after burning the horn buds off they were all riled up and it was all I could do to get them up there. It was uphill. Both ways. I just hung on for the ride and tried to head them in that direction. Course once in that barn, I still had to get the rope halter off them. I was younger then thank goodness.
And in this barn was an old metal water tank. 400 gallons or something. One of those galvanized oval metal tanks you’ve all seen. In the summer it was outside with a hose and a float to keep it full of water. In the winter, it was inside. Dad didn’t believe in electric waterers nor was there an outlet in the barn and the calves would have gotten into it and that would be a whole big thing.
Sometimes I would use a hose to fill the tank. And then drain the hose and it hang inside the feed room door, so it was on the warm barn side. But if I didn’t want to use the hose, I used 5 gallon buckets. Carrying those buckets of water built muscle and character. Carrying 2 did it even faster. Remember it was uphill. Depending on the weather, it might take 4 or 6 buckets to fill it. When it was this cold it all froze solid except maybe a depression in the middle so it would only hold 5 gallons. Eventually I’d have to knock out the ice to make more room. The calves, like any outdoor animal, is fine in the cold as long as they can get out of the wind, and they have enough food and water to keep their energy up. When it got to the point they couldn’t drink I could bang on the outside using the backside of an old axe, then chop out a bunch inside, then pound some more on the outside. Mind you, eventually I’d cut a hole in the metal. Sooner if I forgot to turn the axe around. Then it held less water…
As the weather got warmer, eventually Id be able to get the water tank out of the frozen manure, and flipped over all ALL the ice knocked out of it and those ice chunks would last a long time.
So now in winter I haul water in 8 quart buckets to the chickens. It’s downhill all the way to their pen. And a longer walk of 150 feet. (summer we use a hose and multiple buckets) I can carry two buckets in one hand, and corn and water in the other. I have strong fingers. Maybe from all those 5 gallon buckets?
Chickens don’t like bread crust either. But they didn’t eat the cantaloupe, which is weird. We’ve always said we have fussy chickens.
I’ve mentioned we have electric heat. When its below zero, it might cost us $12 / day and I have to think, how much is heat worth to me? Do I want to be cold or do I want to pay the $12.
Good thing this cold spell didn’t last too long.
What Is your favorite cabbage recipe? What is the longest cold spell you remember?What is your ice removal strategy? What do you do with old spices?
There have been some pretty cold temperatures this winter. I have a heavy, down coat I only wear if it is colder than -20, and a lighter but warm Columbia jacket with a lining that I wear most of the winter. Sweaters help.
I am the happy owner of three Norwegian wool sweaters, a really warm wool sweater daughter got for me in Iceland, and a thick, cable knit Irish wool sweater I got in Dublin. They all keep me nicely warm.
I went to graduate school Winnipeg, and lived there through six winters. Although I was used to cold Fargo temperatures, the winters in Winnipeg were much colder. The main reason for Winnipeg’s existence was the fur trade, and as an animal lover, it was disconcerting to go to what was known as The Exchange District and see all the stores selling fur coats and fur pelts, retail and wholesale. I could never in good conscience wear a fur coat. Wool and down keep me warm enough.
The only person I knew in Winnipeg who owned a fur coat was Vuyo, a fellow graduate student who was a refugee from South Africa. This was before the end of Apartheid. Her husband was a freedom fighter who had been killed by the South African security forces, and she had fled to Lesotho with her children and somehow ended up in one of the coldest cities in Canada. Her father was an Anglican priest, and she knew Desmond Tutu very well. She had a beautiful leopard coat she got from a friend in London, England. The friend was verbally harassed in the London streets for wearing fur, so she gave Vuyo the coat. Vuyo wore that coat without a shred of guilt, as it kept her very warm in that very cold place. She had a far different attitude about animals and their utility for humans than the rest of us did.
What is your strategy for keeping warm in the winter? What are your favorite kinds of sweaters? Have you ever known anyone who had a fur coat?
Husband is an oldest son with younger siblings, and is a real caretaker. This extends to a sense of duty that he has toward our pets. He is currently feeling very guilty because he can’t give our dog the three walks a day that he has become accustomed to. Husband just doesn’t think that vigorous indoor play is sufficient. The problem is that there is so much treacherous ice coating the sidewalks that it isn’t safe for him to walk the dog right now. He cracked his wrist last Friday by falling on the ice while walking the dog.
Kyrill is very spoiled, in terms of the dog treats he gets and the attention that he is paid, by both me and Husband. Husband carefully reads the ingredients of the treats we buy, and we seem to make weekly trips to Runnings and the pet store in search of just the the right chews and toys. I don’t remember Husband spoiling our children like this, although he was always playing with them and keeping them busy.
Husband decided to brave the ice last night and try to walk the dog. He made it half way down to block and came back home as he was afraid of falling. I am afraid that there will be terrible ice for some time, as there is tons of snow, and as the weather warms during the day it is just going to melt and then refreeze into more ice.
I heard from a friend yesterday that the city street department has sixteen vacant positions that no one will take due to a reportedly toxic work environment. I don’t foresee the city stepping up to remove the snow and ice, so Husband is going to have to deal with his pet guilt for many weeks.
How does guilt factor in how you deal with your pets? How well does your municipal government function? What are the best and worst city governments you have dealt with?
Husband describes himself as a left handed person, so one would think that the small fracture he currently is sporting in his right wrist wouldn’t be as big a problem as if had he fractured his left wrist. Well, that isn’t the case at all. Husband writes and reaches for things with his left hand. Those are things he learned before the age of 5. He does everything else with his right hand, including throwing balls and fine motor tasks like buttoning and tying his shoes. He also has carpal tunnel issues with his right hand, so his fingers don’t work that well.
It has been an exhausting learning experience for him to make his left hand work in ways it is unaccustomed to. I am unusually dexterous, so this is all painful for me to watch. I suppose this is a textbook case of mixed lateral dominance. We are supposed to write and throw and kick with hands and feet on the same side of the body. Husband writes with his left hand, but kicks and throws with his right hand and foot. He is also right eye dominant. Can you imagine how hard it would be to navigate the world not knowing what eye, hand, or foot to use? Husband’s father was a lefty. Both our children and our grandson are righties, so I hope the mixed lateral dominance gene has been evaded for future generations.
Are you a lefty or a righty? Know any lefties who struggle? Any stories of lefties who were forced to change to righties in school? Ever broken a bone?
Our children grew up eating a lot of rice, especially Basmati rice since we made curry pretty often. I made risotto occasionally, but not often since it was such a boring pain to make, standing at the stove and stirring and adding the broth for what seemed like an eternity.
The advent of the Instant Pot has revolutionized risotto making, and you can get a really decent risotto in no time with very little effort. I splurged and got a large bag of Carnaroli rice from a fancy, mail order Italian grocery store. It is heavenly. It is said to be far superior to Arborio rice. I haven’t decided yet.
I was tickled the other day when our daughter told me that she and a friend are determined to sample every risotto in Seattle. Their most recent foray into risotto was at a very fancy Italian restaurant where the risotto was green (presumably from pesto) and had Wagyu beef on the top. Daughter said it was wonderful.
I think she and her friend are on a lovely quest, and I wondered where I would want to go to sample a delicacy. All the minestrone in Tuscany? All the baguettes in Paris?
Where would you like to travel to sample the food? What is your favorite rice dish?
In 2018 I retired after 39 years of life in Taiwan. I moved to Holland, MI, and bought a hundred year old house in the city.
The town was platted out sometime in the 1960s, and included alleys in the middle of blocks. One by one, the city “vacated” many of those alleys, but some remain. Near our house there’s one that a community association “neatened up” within the last 10 years. It’s an “art alley”. One back yard installation included a few racks of colored bottles on poles. They attracted me. I figured I could do that, myself, in my own yard.
After examining the installation, I decided that I could do it cheaper too. I sent out a request for empty bottles on a neighborhood bulletin board, and got “not few” responses, sometimes linked to statements that “we didn’t drink all that wine” or “the bottles accumulated over a long time.” (That’s Holland, MI piety speaking). My own installation, because I did it on the cheap side, blew apart in the wind more than once. Lots of bottles and red vases smashed before I finally figured out how to make it secure.
As I live and drink, I accumulate bottles regularly. Three windows in the garage were “bottled up” in 2022. More racks and installations have taken places in the yard. As I write, there are 50 bottles and vases, drilled and washed, waiting in the basement for another inspiration to strike.
This weekend Husband and I plan to order our seeds for the garden. Husband has picked out three varieties of zinnia seeds. We will have our usual San Marzano 2 and Brandy Boy tomatoes which we will start in March. I found a source for the Doux D’Espana red sweet peppers. They are unavailable from our usual suppliers, so I hope the new source is reliable. I have no idea why they are in such short supply. We will also grow New Mexico Joe Parker Anaheim peppers.
Husband wants to plant turnips this year instead of kohlrabi. He will have them all to himself, as I don’t like turnips. I don’t like kohlrabi, either. He also wants to grow 12 heads of Alcosa savoy cabbage. We agreed on growing more Hamburg turnip-rooted parsley, as it is so good in soup and stock. We will grow our regular peas, Italian giant winter spinach, chard, Hidatsa pole beans and green beans, Italian parsley, and butternut squash. I am feeling tired already!
What are your summer garden plans? Any travel plans? What flowers do you like to grow? Any opinions about turnips?
As you all know, I adore being retired. It’s been six months and the novelty has not worn off. And my boss knows as well. When she called me last week, the first words out of her mouth were “don’t hang up on me”. Two new programs for the first week of May have just sold, an unusual happenstance for this late in the fiscal year. They are warehouse programs, of which I was the undisputed queen, and nobody else has any wiggle room in their workload to fit these in. Could I pretty please with a cherry on top come out of retirement on a temporary, part time basis and run these two programs?
I thought about it over the weekend and got input from several friends (all of whom said “go for it’ – I need new friends). When I told my boss I would do it, I gave her a long list of requirements, all of which she agreed to. Rats. I also told her that this was a big favor and it was the only one she was going to get. If these programs re-up next year, I won’t do them. And she can’t apply the favor to a non-warehouse program. It’s these two and no others.
I’m not all that excited about this development, but all my former team-mates are ecstatic. Not so much because I’m coming back temporarily but because now they know they don’t have to try to squeeze either of these programs into their calendar!
Tell me about a huge favor you’ve done for someone. Or a huge favor they’ve done for you!
YA and I have a disagreement about one thing at the State Fair. She loves to go through the Home Improvement Building, see all the vendors, ask questions, take brochures and cards. I do not. Honestly, on days when I go by myself, I skip the building altogether. But when we go together, I always trail after her.
This is how we ended up with cabinet refinishers sitting in our dining room in mid-October. Contract signed, cabinet fronts selected, countertop material chosen, knobs and pulls picked out. The original date they suggested was the first week of December. I pushed it to January – between our Hawaii adventure, the Great Gift Exchange and the holidays, I couldn’t face having no kitchen during any of those times.
All the time we waited and made preparations, I was anxious. Seems like nobody has ever had a big home improvement project go smoothly. When they said it would take a week, I expected it would take longer. In fact, Occasional Caroline and I worked out that if the remodel didn’t go as planned, we would do Blevins at her place instead of mine. I set up the plumber and the electrician for a week after the project was supposed to be finished. Weird, anxiety-ridden dreams filled my nights for a week before they showed up. And we can’t even get into how long it took to get everything out of my kitchen and breakfast room. The photo above is the front porch… the dining room looked similar. It took me 6 days.
Turns out this project was the exception to the rule. Jake showed up on time every morning and was finished by 10 a.m. on Friday. 4½ days. No surprises, no unexpected issues. Of course since my anxiety had scheduled the plumber so far out, I had a great looking kitchen but no water. And no point in moving the fridge back until there was water. Luckily I was able to reschedule the plumber for Saturday morning and the electrician is coming this morning. (Electrician is just to provide better wiring for the hood over the stove.)
I’ve started putting everything back – I expect to be all done in the next day or so. It still seems unreal to me that all my low-level worry came to naught. Of course, I’ve been to the hardware store seven times now for this 4½ day project (s hooks, little can of white paint, contact paper, electric face plate, wire, cleaning stuff, etc.)
Trail Baboon 