Baked vs. Fried?

Yesterday morning YA got up earlier than her Sunday usual so we decided to go out to breakfast, choosing Blackbird as we hadn’t actually been since they re-located. I couldn’t decide between sourdough flapjacks or the huevos rancheros.

We talked about being picky eaters last week and I had to fess up that I have an issue with how foods feel in my mouth. Mushrooms and eggplant are the biggies on my “ick” list but I also have to say I’m not crazy about cooked raisins and cooked zucchini.  I like the flavor of all these things but just don’t like how they feel. Corn tortillas fall into a third category, where sometimes I can like them and sometimes I don’t like the “chewiness”.

This is what I was thinking about while I mulled over huevos rancheros this morning. I was in a good mood so figure I might as well give it a go.  After all, if I’m not happy about the corn tortilla, I can always eat all around it.

It looked fabulous as it came to the table and as I took my first bite I knew that the chefs at Blackbird had outdone themselves. Instead of just heating the tortilla, they fried it so it was crispy!  I’ve had huevos rancheros in many restaurants and have never before encountered one with a crispy tortilla.

When was the last time YOU were surprised by something different?

The Frog Prince

I have a cousin who I find astonishing. I think he is my second cousin. His mom and my mom were first cousins. Our grandfathers were brothers. We are the same age and graduated from Luverne High School together.  We used to chase each other around the grade school play ground. He always had a fascination with reptiles and amphibians. Baboon Krista knew him from his work with the Minnesota DNR  as well as the Rock Bend Music Festival (Free, Free,  Free). He used to examine frogs to see if they were missing legs.  PJ knows him from their Danish Heritage Society. His  dad was Danish.

His recent Facebook posts reveal that he doesn’t work for the DNR  now, but for some reason  he is travelling around Madelia conducting field surveys trying to find and count Great Plains Toads.  I wonder how you count toads? How do you know you haven’t counted them twice? They jump around!

My cousin is also a luthier, and creates the most beautiful mandolins, Hardanger fiddles, nyckelharpas, and Viola D’ Amores.  What a range of interests. How on earth does this happen?

Who are some of the most astonishing and fascinating people you know?

Hail to the Chief

On July 1 I will become the president of the regulatory board that I was appointed to last year by the governor.  We regulate and license a mental health profession in my state.  Becoming president was due largely to attrition of other members, not any stellar professional qualities that I may or may not possess.

The president’s job is a demanding one. I will have to make sure the Board office is running smoothly, set agendas, run meetings, be aware of all complaints, respond to virtually all correspondence or at least instruct the Board secretary how to respond, know all the rules and regulations for the Board and for the profession set forth by the legislature, consult with the Board attorney, set oral exams for licence applicants, and ensure that we protect the public without restricting trade. I may even have to give testimony before the legislature.  I will do this while working full time. It is an unpaid appointment.  The woman who is retiring as president say she spent her first month as president in a fugue state. She got it all down to a science, though, and has been very helpful in the transition.

Any good pointers on how to be a president?

Bad News Bears

Well, the news from the Supreme court is discouraging.  #45 rallied yesterday in Fargo.  The weeds in my garden are horrendous.  On the other hand, there was a gorgeous, huge moon last night. My cats are charming, and I am a part of several communities that are supportive and comforting.  To cap it all off, in 1820, on this date, the tomato was proven to be non poisonous by a Colonel Robert Gibbon, who ate a tomato on steps of the courthouse in Salem, New Jersey.

How do you keep going in trying times?  How has scientific experimentation (a la Colonel Gibbon) improved your life?

The Fugitive

Today’s post comes from Barbara in Rivertown.

I came across an entertaining article recently called “30 Illegal Things Practically Everyone Has Done”   https://bestlifeonline.com/crimes-everyone-has-done/   The following is a list from that article, though I’ve edited it by combining some items, and adding the language in italics.

-using public WiFi

– using a fake name online

– downloading music (w/o paying), movies, TV shows

– drinking underage

– playing poker with friends  ($2000 or more revenue)

– eating something before you bought it

– sharing your password

– using your cell phone while driving

– not updating your driver license when you move

– sharing medication

– jaywalking

– smoking marijuana

– not getting a license for your dog (or cat, in some cities)

– possessing a permanent marker (in Florida and NY)

– writing “disturbing” material (I don’t think this blog counts)

– littering, esp. throwing away a cell phone

– driving over/under the speed limit

– turning right on red, or rolling through a stop sign

– driving through a red light in the middle of the night

– doing a u-turn when it’s illegal

– rolling through a stop sign on your bike, biking on a sidewalk

– not wearing a seat belt

– public intoxication, OR drinking in public (out in the open, away from a bar or restaurant)

– making a meme  (Heck, I still don’t even understand what a meme is.)

Let’s have a little contest – we don’t necessarily need to know WHICH of these illegal things you’ve done, but I think we’ve all done some of them.

How many of these illegal actions have you accomplished?

Any good stories that come to mind?

A Storm and a Hero

Today’s post comes from Crystalbay.

Two weeks ago, a windstorm hit Crystal Bay. It was the first straight line wind in 45 years. At  65 mph, these winds are as ferocious as a tornado, only without a funnel. It was pretty exciting for me until I saw my lawn chairs blown from the lakeside yard all of the way back to my garage. The wind’s strength picked up a 100-pound canoe and deposited it in my neighbor’s yard.

This summer, I rented out both sides of my dock because I really need the money and don’t have a boat anyway. I’m likely the only resident of this whole lake who doesn’t have a boat. I digress, but in my divorce settlement 12 years ago, he got the boat with no dock; I got the dock with no boat.

I watched as one of my renter’s boats listing in the water like the Titanic before it went down. The other boat became partially submerged. The force of the waves pulled the iron frame beneath the largest dock section off of the lake bed. And, my neighbor’s tree fell on the roof. This was their second tree to fall on the cottage in two years.

 

As with every high-anxiety situation, I turn to my take-charge, grounded son, Steve. He’s learned how to catch up to my runaway panic and calm me down within five minutes. He not only seems to have all the answers, he often takes over resolving situations with ease and confidence. I doubt I’d be able to continue living here without his occasional interventions.

I made my panic call after the tree came crashing down on the roof.  Within half an hour, Steve was up on the roof with a chain saw in the dark, cutting off the canopy of branches. The next day, he came out with two of his workers, and they devised a plan for taking the largest limbs without a crane. Which is exactly what any tree service would use. The guys used ropes tied around the large logs and eased them down over the roof. Steve laughed and joked with his guys the whole time. Unique challenges have always energized him. After three hours, the job wasn’t only finished, but all of the logs and debris cleaned up.

Before he left, he nailed a rope swing platform securely, unclogged a bathroom drain, screwed in a piece of plywood over a hole in the foundation, clipped a dozen overhanging tree branches, hung a new hammock, replaced a large bulb in the lakeside socket, and calmed the dock renter’s upset about having his boat underwater.

My son is my hero, my rock when things seem to be spinning out of control.  I got a registered letter from the city yesterday notifying me that there was a complaint filed against me for renting my dock. The ordinance says that people cannot have a boat at their dock unless they own it and live on the premises. Within hours, Steve had consulted the city planners, explaining my situation. He figured out a solution that will allow my dock renter to stay. He’s also figured out a way that repairing the storm-damaged roof will get maximum dollars in an insurance claim.

Everyone needs a “Steve” in his/her life whether a good friend, a mate,  a sibling, or an adult child.  Someone who will have your back in a crisis and be a calming voice in the storm.

Who has your back?  Who is your hero?

Dumb and Dumber

Yesterday morning I poked myself in the eye with my thumb really hard  while I was drying my hair with my blow dryer.  My eye watered and watered, and my vision was still  blurry an hour later. I was reminded of the Three Stooges.

What is the dumbest thing you ever did to yourself?  Seen the Three Stooges lately?

Mystery

I looked through the vendor booths at the hand bell workshop I am attending and noticed a book series about murder mysteries and whodunits that take place in bell choirs.  The size of the print (large) and the cover art didn’t suggest a lot of literary merit, but I guess there must be a market for such books. One of Dorothy Sayers best books is about a death involving church bell ringers.

This made me think about expanding the series to include other groups and professions.  What about Death at the Elks Lodge  or The Venomous Inkblot?   

Think of some mysteries that could be written about your job or group. Motives, victim, perpetrator, weapon, method? Be creative!

Road Food

We drove yesterday for about 9 hours on our trip to Rochester. We stopped in Fargo for lunch at our favorite Indian restaurant, and proceeded to Rochester without any other food stops. Our only other major stop was in Freeport, where we bought 20 lbs. of specialty flours at the Swany White flour mill.   It seems our travel patterns preclude leisurely noshing at interesting roadside eateries.  We usually have an agenda or deadline to meet, and we drive and drive until we get to our destination.

How do you eat when you travel? Tell about some memorable road food.

The Room on the Other Side of the Mirror

Our tortie kitten has some perceptual misconceptions regarding mirrors.  She is a determined little thing who loves to be with us, and who, if separated from us by a door or window, paws rapidly on whatever is in her way as though to scratch through it to get to us.  Sometimes we even open the barrier to let her through.  She does the same to mirrors, as though there is a room just beyond her reach. I notice this the most in the bathroom. She sits on the counter and paws and paws.

I suppose it is an easy mistake to make, since a mirror and window glass feel the same on her paws, and she can see things beyond both.

When have you wanted to be somewhere you couldn’t get to?