I went to the fridge and I saw one of my vegetables crying. I guess I have some emotional cabbage.

 Of course yesterday, walking through a specialty market I grabbed two half-pound bars of chocolate.  I had one at home but forgot.  I was told that and told that I had "too much chocolate".

Have you ever heard something that silly?  Too much chocolate?  I am aghast!





 I invited my boss and her husband over for dinner and while we were eating she asked my son, Little Johnny, what he learned about in school that day.

I said that we usually play a "four clues" game where we have to guess and she thought that would be fun.

So Johnny gave his first clue: It's kind of round and covered with hair.

That didn't narrow it down much so he went to his second clue: It can be full of juice that you can access through a crack.

Nobody had an idea yet, though knowing Johnny I was starting to get anxious. He gave his third clue: When mommy and daddy were unpacking and changing from a day at the beach I peeked into their room and saw that mommy had one and daddy didn't.

Still no guesses from anyone but I was starting to panic. Johnny gave his final clue: It contains the letters C, N, T, and U.

My wife saved my career when she quickly blurted out COCONUT!

The Monarch Cage - So I Can Get Milkweed Seeds

 Sorry Monarch Mommas.  This one is for me. 

Your last batch of kids came through and ate every one of my milkweed plants.  One had gotten to the flowering stage. 

They even found the plants in the backyard and scattered within my other pots.

So this time, I got bold.

I built a cage for the Milkweed plants.  In this case, I am waiting to see if the plants become plants or are they just a goner. 

I built a box out of Hardware Cloth to surround the pot that I have on my porch.  30 inches tall and about that wide.  I did not measure anything.  It was too hot on the porch.  This is South Florida after all.

Then I covered the box with the leftover Hardware Cloth so that it had a sturdy "roof".

There are many other milkweed pots on the property.  Your children are welcome to those.  Just not this one pot.  Once I get some plants going, I will transplant them into accessible spots and you can have at them again.

I enjoy seeing the monarchs here.  I just need a little bit of milkweed for myself.

For the record it would be 30 inches tall, 30 wide, and about 20 deep.  About.  I did not measure anything.

Now go visit the backyard.  There is plenty of food out there!

Have you ever seen fruit preserves being made? It's jarring.

 Actually, yes, I have.  I generally get enough "windfall" fruit each year to fill the freezer and make enough Fruit Preserves to last the year. 

This year, no.  The mango crop is very low this year.  I haven't been getting enough to justify making jam so I have been eating the fruit.  My own tree may give me just enough for one batch but that is doubtful.




 A visit in the bedroom

After a night of drinking, Brian crept into bed beside his wife who was already asleep. He gave her a peck on the cheek and fell asleep.

When he awoke, he found a strange man standing at the end of his bed wearing a long flowing white robe. "Who the hell are you?" demanded Brian, "and what are you doing in my bedroom?"

The mysterious Man answered "This isn't your bedroom and I'm St. Peter."

Brian was stunned "You mean I'm dead!? That can't be; I have so much to live for. I haven't said goodbye to my family and friends. You've got to send me back straight away."

St. Peter replied " Yes, you can be reincarnated but there is a catch. We can only send you back as a dog or a hen."

Brian was devasted, but knowing there was a farm not far from his house, he asked to be sent back as a hen. A flash of light later, he was covered in feathers and clucking around pecking the ground.

This isn't so bad he thought, until he felt this strange feeling welling up inside him.

The farmyard rooster strolled over and said "So you are the new hen. How are you enjoying your first day here? "

"It's not so bad" replies Brian " but I have this strange feeling inside like I'm about to explode."

"You’re ovulating" explained the rooster, "don't tell me you've never laid an egg before."

"Never" replies Brian.

"Well just relax and let it happen."

And so he did and after a few uncomfortable seconds later, an egg pops out from under his tail.

An immense feeling of relief swept over him and his emotions got the better of him as he experienced motherhood for the first time.

When he laid his second egg, the feeling of happiness was overwhelming and he knew that being reincarnated as a hen was the best thing that had happened to him ever!

The joy kept coming and as he was just about to lay his third egg he felt an enormous smack on the back of his head and heard his wife shouting ...

"Brian, wake up you drunken bastard, you're pooping in the bed".

What do you call a dog that can do magic tricks? A Labracadabrador

I'm thinking that while I carbo and Caffeine load, it's time to get up and become a jock once again.  

Or maybe life is more simple than that. 




 The note

Auld Jock had been a religious man all his life.

When rushed into hospital his family called a preacher to stand with them. As the preacher stood next to the bed, Jock's condition appeared to worsen and he motioned frantically for something to write on.

He was lovingly handed a pen and paper and Jock used his last gasp of energy to scribble a note which he handed to the preacher and then he died.

The preacher thought it best not to look at the note at the time and placed it in his jacket pocket.

At the funeral, as he was finishing his eulogy he realised that he was wearing the same jacket as he had at the hospital.

He said "You know, Auld Jock handed me a wee note just before he died. I haven't read it yet, but knowing Auld Jock I'm sure there's a word of inspiration there for us all"

He opened the note and read out loud "Hi minister. Yer staundin oan ma oxygen"

Monarch Butterflies, we have to talk. You are eating yourself out of house and home.

I was happy with my little farm.  I was planting milkweed cuttings all over my property.  In existing pots, new pots, and in the garden.  I needed the seeds for bio-diversity.

I had some plants that were growing quite well.  One of the plants was waist high and I have a 35 inch inseam.  

Did you catch the "was" there?

My front window faces out to the porch and I have a recliner and rocker in that window.  It lets me see the world when I am not working out.  It is overstuffed and I can lounge around when I am in it, like now.

I need to rest frequently because I am an athlete.  You tell me if I am using the right word, three marathons on the bike per week.  First sprint is usually just over a half marathon at a 14 MPH average.  Then water stop and repeat.

So my sport watch yells at me that I am doing too much and PAI numbers are averaging in the high 200s.  It's a measure of activity, just like a resting heart rate of 52 is a measure of fitness.

Enough bragging, back to the butterflies.

I am about a block from a small park.  M.E. DePalma Park.  That is where I got the first seeds for the Mexican Milkweed that you little critters love so much.  I got them about 15 years ago and have been propagating them ever since.  I stuff some plants under other plants and take cuttings frequently.

Mrs Monarch, this is where you came into play.  You see I was just about ready to get some seeds when you found these plants.  Two days later I started seeing holes in the leaves, two more days and I had stumps in my pots. 

Yes, you.  You put your eggs on my plants left and right and center.  You and all your flutterby friends.  Swallowtail and Zebra Wing, all of you came by and visited my porch.  At one point there were enough of you on my porch that I thought I was looking at a holding pattern in a large airport.

Of course I know what that looks like, I bike at an airport in Pompano Beach, and I once rode a motorcycle up the New Jersey Turnpike past the Newark NJ Airport.  I know what a holding pattern looks like.

Then your children did what they do and ate my plants away.

Yes, I know, I grow them for that purpose and your children were hungry.  But every plant is now gone.

Now, don't apologize.  You did what you had to.  But I had about 50 plants and now they are all gone.  There are 12 in that one pot alone!

So I have to build a cage.  You won't get in this thing.  I have hardware cloth and I know how to use it.

Don't apologize, I am bound and determined to get something past the sticks!

Just keep your pretty orange and black wings and your eggs to yourself.   If I have to be a farmer I have to do it outside.  If I told you what the ants do to plants indoors here in South Florida, you would be deeply offended!

Real Bakers use Butter so there is no Margarine for error.

 I mean while we are quoting this kind of pithy thing, I usually say "Real Jeeps have two doors" but that isn't funny, is it.

Doesn't matter, I have my duck.


I can remember doing a year's worth of algebra in high school in three months because I was bored.  So the basis of this is in math(s).  Lots of math(s).





 Four friends were catching up over drinks at the annual Big Conference for Mathematics.

The conversation eventually got around to their significant others. Artie said, “When we got together at last year’s conference I was dating Katie, but she became so integral to my life that we’re now in a civil union.”

Bob said, “My relationship with Betty is almost perfect. But since we’re both in the prime of our lives there’s no rush to tie the knot.”

Chuck added, “I wish I were as lucky as you two. I told you that last year Melba was kind of odd, but she’s become so irrational that we’re dividing our things and splitting up.” The others nodded their heads in sympathy because partitioning is often difficult.

Dave then chimed in, “Your love lives are so complex. No issues at all between Annie and me.” After an awkward silence Artie sighed and said, “Dave, that’s because she’s imaginary.”

Thank you for contacting the Abyss. Your scream is very important to us!

I am not particularly comfortable with hunting.  I prefer to leave deer in the forest and not wrecking my Jeep.  Once I was inline skating in Valley Forge National Park on the Schuylkill River Trail and there was a large buck standing right there on the trail.  He seemed as amused by me as I was of him.  So I started skating.  He decided that he'd come along for the ride for a while and trotted along side me until I came to a clearing. 

Pennsylvania is like that.  It was after rutting season so I didn't give it a second thought but ... well yes, it was foolhardy.




 Hunting trip

Three firefighters, – a rookie, a captain and a chief – went on a hunting trip. After their first night, the weather was miserable and they hadn't seen any deer all day.

Finally they came across an old shack and went inside to play poker.

After losing a couple of hands the rookie threw down his cards and said “I’m going out to get me a deer."

Fifteen minutes later the rookie came back with a four point buck. The captain asked, "How did you manage that?"

The rookie replied, "I walked out fifty feet, followed some tracks and shot this buck."

The captain then said, "I've had enough of this. I’m going to get my deer."

He came back a half hour later with a 6 point buck. The chief asked, "How did you manage that?"

The captain replied, "I walked out a hundred feet or so, followed some tracks and shot this buck."

The chief. not wanting to be outdone, said, "I'm out of here, I'm going to bag the biggest buck of the day."

He came back an hour later, all mangled and bloody.

The rookie asked, "What happened to you?"

The chief replied, "I walked out five hundred feet, followed some tracks and got hit by a TRAIN!”

Begging Dog, Carbo-loading, and Avoiding Runner's Trots

I live a rather regimented life.  

I have been working out steadily since I became of legal age, and now that I have retired rather early, workouts are a great way to keep sane.

By workouts, I mean endurance workouts.  Two hours of (relatively) high speed on a bike or inline skates.  Mind you, according to my heart monitor and sports watch, an hour on skates is worth an hour and a half on a bike.

Just in case you are keeping score, and I do keep score.  I have a Career Goal of skating the equivalent of once around the world at the equator.  That's another 360 miles by my estimates.

So after all these years of "suiting up" and "getting to the park", I have a routine.  It really is a collection of routines since it depends on which sport, what the weather is, and what I feel like doing that day.

Since I can easily burn more than 2000 calories in one go, I have to fuel up before I go.  In the case of this particular morning, I am making oatmeal.  It is (still) fairly cheap, and I can get bulk amounts of it delivered to the door.

The problem with oatmeal is that while there is protein per serving, it is low for my needs.  1g protein per Kg of ideal body weight - or in my case that's 88g per day.  I have to pack more into that bowl, but I have to do so in a low fat way.

If you don't go low fat before an endurance workout, you had better make sure that you can get to the rest stop when you need it.  The body will process the fat in your meal in an unfortunate way, and your guts will need that toilet and insist that you go NOW.  

I'm trying to be gentle with the descriptions here for "All Audiences" but if you do get too much fat in your meal, you will have a "Blow-Out".

Nutrition is important in life.  I'll just leave that here.

Anyway, so I go into the kitchen for my pre-athletics carbo-load right after the dog walk.  If I time it right, I can get to the park, get the workout in, and get back to the house in time for lunch.  Then I can have whatever I want and not worry about whether someone else is in the park's lavatory when I need it.

Reach for the bowl and the gram scale.  Yes, I have a collection of electronic scales, why would you expect anything less?  Placing the bowl on the scale, I spoon out 41g (1.4 oz) of oats.  14g (half tablespoon, half ounce) of Peanut Butter.

I'm chancing that peanut butter.  It's higher fat than I should be having before 2 hours on the bike but I can do it, just.

Now 20g of homemade jelly.  I'm at the end of last year's mango jelly so I will shift to the store bought until I can harvest and make more.  Cherry Jelly is a nice change of pace, isn't it?

80g of milk on top, and microwave the lot.

At this time I have to reach into the refrigerator and that is when I hear Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) Stand, Stretch, and Shake.

I get the yogurt out of the refrigerator and begin to spoon 100g of unsweetened yogurt on top.  That gives me a total of about 25g of protein and with the two bananas I had earlier, I'm at my minimum of 600 calories for breakfast.

Don't want to be too full do I?

I turn around and notice I have two brown eyed lasers pointed at me.  Rack wants his share of yogurt.

I have to ask, What is it about yogurt and peanut butter that dogs love?  I mean chill, dog, chill!

He steps into the kitchen.  "Hi Rack, I know what you want!".

I get wags.  I get dog smiles.

I finish spooning my own yogurt, and get a tablespoon of the stuff for the dog.  He's older and is on a protein restricted diet for his kidney health.  He's almost 14 years old and he won't be around too many more years.  I am at better than competent at making recipes and nutrition, so I am aggressively managing his diet as well as mine.

Walking over to his bowl he is crowding me out.  I whack the spoon on the side of the bowl to give him some of the white sticky goo that he so wants, and he is already muzzle in to the bowl.  He only does this for Yogurt!  He doesn't even do this for his normal food.

Luckily he "isn't a Lab" so I can keep food on the counter.  

Weirdly, at his age, he is having "Selective Hearing Problems".  Some days he is deaf.  Others he can hear a pin drop.  Or more specifically, he can hear the click of pealing back the lid on the yogurt container.  From the living room.  Behind the cushions and the chairs.  Over the clocks and fans in the house.

Get it?  It's kind of loud in this place and his hearing is not the best.

So with an old dog, I am trying to rush my way out to the air park.  I need to go do large lazy circles around a giant gas bag and avoid obstacles.  It's where the Goodyear Blimp is headquartered here and there is a 4.5 mile course that calls my name.

As soon as I finish my "Peanut Butter and Jelly Oatmeal" I'll grab the mid workout snacks to try to defeat The Wall, and I'll be on my way.

Rack has gotten his fill of yogurt and walked to his station in front of the door so he can watch over the world.

Me?  I'll get my fill of the oatmeal, and get on my way.

Oh and "On Yer Left!".  Keep right, except to pass!  Thankyouverymuch!

I started a band called ‘Duvet.’ All we play are covers.

I am extremely active.  For my age bracket I am well over two standard deviations more active than I really should be.  I'm sitting here sipping a rather excellent Guatemalan coffee I roasted so I can have a caffeine boost to do a marathon on the bike in 24 MPH peak winds.

But Pro Sports I simply do not get.  It isn't sports, it is entertainment.  I get that but sitting in a hot sweaty stadium for three hours and paying for the opportunity to do so? 

No thank you.

But these guys?





   Bob & John love playing baseball, Bob is a catcher & John is a pitcher one day they have the following conversation:

Bob says, “I was just wondering if there is baseball in Heaven.”

John replies, “I sure hope they do because it would be hell not being able to play it for all eternity!”

“I know right! Tell you what, if one of us dies before the other, then we need to somehow let the other one know if there is.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Bob dies a few years later in a car crash & a couple of days after that John has a dream where Bob visits him and tells him,

“I have good news & bad news. The good news is that they DO play baseball in Heaven and, man, they have some of the best games! All the legends play, Ruth, Robinson, Gehrig, everybody in the Hall of Fame plays but your skill level doesn’t matter because who cares if we win or lose, we’re just playing a game that we love!”

John says, “That sounds awesome! But what’s the bad news?”

“You’re scheduled to pitch next week.”

I once dated a Magazine Collector. She had Issues.

I suspect it is all about how you see things, right?



Master, Why Am I Not Improving?

A Kung Fu student asks his teacher, "Master, why does my ability not improve? I'm always defeated."

And the master, pensive and forever patient, answers, "My dear pupil, have you seen the gulls flying by the setting sun and their wings seeming like flames?"

"Yes, my master, I have."

"And a waterfall, spilling mightily over the stones without taking anything out of its proper place?"

"Yes, my master, I have witnessed it."

"And the moon, when it touches the calm water to reflect all its enormous beauty?"

"Yes, my master, I have also seen this marvelous phenomenon."

"That is the problem. You keep watching all this instead of training."

Old Style Pizza Sauce - Like Back In The Day, Youse Know?

How about an Old Style Pizza at home?
I mean with a real, (mostly) naturally sweet sauce.  You know from a Pizza Parlor "down the way" that has a giant pot of the sauce perfuming the neighborhood as you get closer to it?

You may not have had one since the 1970s, but this sauce is it.  It's exactly how I remember it.


No this pizza sauce is not Vegan.
It is not Vegetarian.

It can be made either way, but while good, it won't be quite the same.


I take a cue from Mom here, and I get a pound of Stew Beef and brown it in the pot before we start this sauce.  Then add the ingredients to the pot and reduce. 

I have not tried it with meatballs but the flavor will be similar.  Just brown the meatballs and let the sauce cook it.

You will end up with some Braciole once you scoop it out, and if you have some extra sharp Provolone and some Amoroso Rolls, you are now having one of my favorite sandwiches from childhood.  Kaiser or a Hard Roll will work, as will Linguica or a Cuban Roll.

The recipe has Anchovies in it. You can leave that out but I would strongly suggest preparing it as is.  You will want that "Umami Bomb".



Ingredients:

• 1 can San Marzano tomatoes (28 oz)
• Half 24 oz bottle tomato passata (or strained Roma tomatoes)
• 1/4 tsp pepper
• Less then 1/8th red pepper flakes
• 1 Tablespoon olive oil
• Three anchovies rinsed and patted dry
• 1 Tsp salt

Ingredients at the end:

• 2 Tsp oregano
• Tsp basil
• 1 tsp sugar

Process:

• Process anchovies and can of tomato’s in food processor or blender until smooth.
• Add to pan with passata, salt, pepper and pepper flakes.
• Rinse out tomato can with minimal water and dump water into pan - the object is to get the tomatoes out of the can so you don't have to boil a LOT of water down in reduction.
• Reduce for hours low and slow simmer until thick and will cut with the wooden spoon in the pan.
• After you remove from heat, add oregano, basil and sugar and stir in.  
• Let cool and store.

What do you call a belt made of 100 dollar bills? A Waist of money.

Having done some rather edgy things on my various vehicles in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, I suppose that this is plausible.  I have never had that sort of an encounter with a Deer, but they are more common than stray dogs in parts of that area.



 Motor Bike Accident

While riding my motorbike, I swerved to avoid hitting a deer, lost control and landed in a ditch, severely banging my head.

Dazed and confused I crawled out of the ditch to the edge of the road when a shiny new convertible pulled up with a gorgeous woman who asked, "Are you okay?"

As I looked up, I noticed she was wearing a low-cut blouse with cleavage to die for..., "I'm okay I think," I replied as I pulled myself up to the side of the car to get a closer look."

She said, "Get in and I'll take you home, so I can clean and bandage that nasty scrape on your head."

"That's nice of you," I answered, "but I don't think my wife will like me doing that!"

"Oh, come now, I'm a nurse," she insisted. "I need to see if you have any more scrapes and then treat them properly."

Well, she was pretty and very persuasive. Being sort of shaken and weak, I agreed, but repeated, "I'm sure my wife won't like this."

We arrived at her place just a few miles away and, after a couple of cold beers and the bandaging, I thanked her and said, "I feel a lot better, but I know my wife is going to be upset so I'd better go now."

"Don't be silly!" she said with a smile. "Stay for a while. She won't know anything. By the way, where is she?"

"Still in the ditch with the motorbike, I guess."

If money doesn't grow on trees, why do banks have branches?

Since I am going to a high end restaurant tonight, if we can get reservations, I thought it might be worth a story.

Mai Kai, a one of a kind Polynesian Restaurant.  If I remember to take pics, I'll put them up here later.




  Man goes to a restaurant

The restaurant itself is super high-end, upper class. Waits for a while before he gets his table.

He waves for the waiter and asks for the specials. The waiter says, "We make the best steaks in town". The man is skeptical of the statement, and wants to test the outrageous claim and orders their "Steak".

"It is taking forever for the order to arrive but that is expected for the 'best steak in town'", thinks the man while he smirks.

But it does arrive all fancy, all buttered and saucy with some mashed potatoes and gravy on the side.

He is amazed at the quality of the steak and barely has any thoughts processing. He gobbles up the whole thing in less than 7 minutes and calls the waiter.

"I need to talk to the chef", he says.

The waiter talks to the chef and brings him to the table.

The man goes on and on about how good the steak was and the chef politely nods in acknowledgment.

"This is quite literally the best steak I've had in this town. Well done!"

The chef looks confused and says, "Medium rare".