New Nut, New Skates - Fixing my K2 227G Skates For Another Couple Thousand Miles

I am the kind of person who can repair the inside of a switch.

No, I don't mean go to the parts store and buy a new one, then solder it in.  Of course I can do that.

I mean actually disassemble the switch and most of the time I can actually remanufacture the switch.

I've always been creative at reusing things, my first repair was dad's 8-Track player way back in the day.  He hated that I did it, but was shocked that I could.

I've got this massive box of parts for electronics, a cabinet of parts for my own odds and ends, and deep in the closet under my dress shirts and my running shoes is the Skate Box.

I think it is probably true that I have the most number of inline skate bearings in Wilton Manors under one roof.  It isn't that I run a skate shop, although I easily could, it is that I have been refurbishing bearings for decades at this point.

Literally two decades.  I got into the sport in 1993.  I have skated every year since.  I have skated 21,100 miles total.

Yes, I count.

When I was competing, I skated as much as 2,500 miles a year and 200 miles a week.

Wanna come?

I didn't think so.  Inline skating as a sport collapsed in the early 2000s.  It's now That Kid Down The Block or the trick skaters.  The rest of us do it because we really enjoy the activity.

I mean really.

Given the parts, I am able to keep my sport going.  I can tear down a pair of skates down to the component parts and tighten them back again so that the wheels roll free with no binding and no crunching due to crap in the bearings.

I have also trained people in how to actually skate without breaking their fool necks on a number of occasions. 

After all, if you skate, you will fall.

But all that mechanical stuff sometimes goes awry.  I've thrown bearings and bolts in the past.  What I mean is that I'm skating along and all the sudden something feels a bit "wrong".  Looking down, I notice I've lost a wheel or my brake is wobbly.

Slow to a crawl and retrace the last mile.  See if you can find that nut.  If you can't you probably won't find an exact replacement.

Why?  They stopped manufacturing that skate back in 2003 and you are stuck.  I contacted K2 and that was their answer.  Too bad.  Amazing skate.

That was what happened with my favorite pair of "Cruising Skates".  They're a pair of K2 227G Softboot skates.  I could strap those things on and do a 50 mile workout in comfort gliding from Philadelphia to Valley Forge and beyond not thinking twice other than how far is it to the next Water Stop.

Five Wheels Good, Four Wheels Meh. 
Bigger Wheels Fast, Smaller Wheels More Maneuverability.
I'd kill for a proper pair of cruising skates with five 100MM or greater wheels on it...

The problem with all skates, not K2 alone, is that those soft boots wear down due to your foot sliding against the fabric.  Eventually they get to the point where your heel has worn the fabric lining down and you're against the padding.  My skates are all at that point, and I have lined them with, you guessed it, Duct Tape.

In this case, Olive Drab, Military Spec, Industrial Strength Duct Tape, but Duct Tape nonetheless.

But back to that bolt thing.

Every time you disassemble a skate, and this is also pretty good to remember for when you repair your car or the back gate, use some "Loctite" on the threads of the screws. 

Loctite is a sort of glue that you put a dot on the threads of the screw or bolt, then tighten up.  That glue will hold a screw in place instead of allowing it to work free under use.  For "light duty", something you intend to remove later for service, use "Loctite Blue".  You can remove it and replace it later.  The other strengths like Loctite Red may be too strong for duty, so you need to research that yourself.

For skates, Loctite Blue is perfect, and is even what my skates came with.

But in the case of my favorite skates, I forgot to use it on the nut on my push wheel.  That's the back wheel on the right foot.  Most of the force from my skating was on the back wheel due to my not skating in racing form lately, but most people tend to push from the heel as a matter of course.   It is incorrect technique, but if you're just out cruising around the park in loops, nobody will hold that against you.

Fitness Skating vs Racing. 

Somewhere around the Pompano Beach Airpark, near to the Goodyear Blimp base, I threw that nut.  It's somewhere in the grass, I'll never find it, and I'll probably never stop looking for it.  It's an aluminium nut that looks like a mushroom.  The stem part goes over the bolt that holds the push wheel in, the cap held the brake assembly tight to the skate "truck" where the wheels live.

I took the skate with me to the Home Depot on Sunrise Blvd in Ft Lauderdale.  Instead of going to the local small old line hardware store, I went there only because it is closer.  Standing by the parts bin full of weird fasteners, I was poking around.  The bolt tested to 8MM (Metric) and I knew I could find a standard hex nut, but I wanted a cap on the top. 

I'm looking at it all "cluessly and confused" until this little woman came up.  A former Skater herself, we had a great time talking about The Good Old Days of the 1990s and early 2000s when we could get up dozens of people for a long haul workout.  But she knew exactly what I needed.  A "T-Nut".  We found one that fit.  All that I had to do was bend the prongs back.

That's the thing with doing something out there that others have stopped doing.  It's like keeping a classic car going.  Sometimes you have to machine the part, other times you can rebuild it with Loctite and Duct Tape, and other times you really need a friendly Skater Chick to find a T-Nut to get you back on the road.

Thanks Skater Chick!  You were the Best!  Lets hit the park sometime!

Rack Does Not Want His Food. He Wants Mine.

Up at 5AM, we go through our normal routine.

Rack has been getting more excited about exploring Wilton Manors lately.  He's been dragging me on a mile and a quarter and then some, almost two full KM walk each morning.

I could use the exercise, he could use the exercise, and it's great mental stimulation for him

Great, it's a win-win.  He is showing that he's less afraid of that monster five lane highway that is Wilton Drive since I specifically take him through there every morning to get him less afraid.

We get on the last block to the house and he's tugging to go home just like he's expressing his opinion by selecting longer routes to extend our pre-dawn march around town.

I got back and got delayed.  I had to make coffee, get some things running, a couple downloads, and other odds and ends.  His breakfast got delayed a bit as a result.

That grey brown stuff in a purple bowl is one of the highest quality foods we could find on the No China and No Grain Food List that I keep to religiously.  It's the color it is because it is soaked in water to soften it.  Rack is missing a "Pre-Molar" and without that tooth, dry food can be difficult.  Soft food is just a major headache and expensive as well.

But he doesn't like it.  Or rather, he doesn't seem to.  I was used to Lettie, my departed dog.  If I tossed a bit

of food in the air, she'd get it before it hit the ground.  To feed her by hand, I had to tell her to "Take Nice" or I'd feel teeth hit my skin.  That's more normal.  To give a "normal" feeder a pill, wrap it in a piece of cold cut and toss it over your shoulder.  It wouldn't hit the ground either.  In fact, the act of going into the kitchen meant you would have a dog on your heels before your hand touched the fridge door!

Rack, well, he's a ultra-beta dog.  I have to go out of my way to remember to praise him until his tail is wagging that he's done something right.  That includes eating.  His bowl is on a stack of bowls as a stand to put them at the right height.  The food is the right temperature, not too hot, not cold.  It has to be softened but not too soft. 

Yes, he is picky.  If I just toss it in a bowl and walk away, he starves himself.  A normally 50 pound dog, he hovers in the mid to lower 40s and when I tried that "take the bowl away" trick, he skipped three meals and went down to the high 30s in an eye blink.

No.  That's cruel.  I have to be involved.  Tapping the bowl, spinning it around, drawing his attention to his food, holding it under his nose.

That's the trick.  Eventually he eats it.  Grain free, all meat, no poultry. 

Then the praise, then he wandered off and hid.

I swear, he's part cat.

But I wanted Pork for lunch.  Specifically, Char Siu Pork, cooked in the crock pot.  Chinese Barbecue Pork.  Savory and slightly sweet.  It's the same recipe as the little bits of sweet pork you get in Pork Fried Rice.  The sauces take a little time to make but they can be made ahead of time, and the pork should really marinade overnight, but it isn't required.

I started out to the kitchen.  I heard the thump of a tail hitting the plastic of the crate.  Four feed padded almost silently into the kitchen and stopped.   I had company.  I was having twin brown eyes staring at me, turning into lasers to burn holes through my resolve not to feed, and my heart.

I'm a soft touch.  I admit it.

I started to make the first sauce.  Hoisin sauce.  It's a sweet garlic sauce.  Dark and deep brown, it's used in a lot of Asian Cuisine.  It is also quite expensive at the stores, so I found a killer recipe to make the stuff. 

Reaching into the fridge for the Soy Sauce, even Oscar the Parrot got involved.  "HELLO!".

No, you silly bird, you don't want any of that!

I did wander back, stepping around the speed bump that is Rack, and opened up Oscar's cage.  In reality, Oscar just wanted some Out Time.

Coming back into the kitchen, I stepped around the black and white cookie that was my dog, the canine Speed Bump, and got the honey out of the cupboard.

See a trend?  This repeated for each of the ingredients for the Hoisin sauce.  While the hoisin sauce is excellent on its own for recipes, I wanted Char Siu.  The spices were different. 

Rack was still staring.  I went to put the peanut butter away.  Rack's ears perked. 

"Show me what you want, boy?"

Rack stared at the peanut butter jar. 


"Oh here you go" I gave him a little peanut butter on the tip of the butter knife and went back to making sauces.

Tossing the Hoisin into the crock pot, I added the other spices to the mix to change it to Char Siu. 

Normally, this step of making the sauces and marinades takes about 10 minutes to complete.  20 with help from my Rack.

All that stepping around the furry speed bump would slow me down.

I got my sauce done with the addition of the last bit of honey and sesame oil and stirred it in the crock pot with a whisk. 

Rack was still staring.

I grabbed the pork that was on the counter and slid it into the crock pot.

At this point, Rack went into overdrive. 

"No, Rack, it has onions, you can't have any".

A McNab Dog, like my Rack, the McNab SuperDog (TM) is an amazing creature.  If you have never experienced it, you have to take my word for it.  You speak in English, he learns abstract concepts.  I told him before that "Onions will kill you, you can't have any" and any time he hears onions, he stops begging.  Like a light switch. 

Yeah, that smart.  Freaky smart.  I am waiting for him to pick up on the Spanish I am trying to learn.

Donde esta los calcitines?  Los Calcitines es aqui, en sus pies.

(or something like that.)

He left the kitchen at this point.  Went out to the front room, sniffing around clearing the floor of Oscar's food, wandering around the house in a Perimeter Search, and made himself scarce.

He understands Onions.  Smart boy.

I still had another bit of work to do clearing out all the spices and wiping up the counter.  He decided it was no longer time to beg.

So, being a soft touch has its benefits.  I get company of the best sort in the Kitchen.  Rack doesn't demand much, although he does beg for food.  I don't get told that I put too much onion in the sauce, or I'm overcooking something, or I need to add something to thicken the barbecue sauce instead of reducing it. 

I've heard all that before.  Too many cooks spoil the broth and get growled at by the Chef anyway.

But Dog, go eat your own food without any back talk first, OK? 

It's almost as hard as getting me to eat Olives. 

No.  I won't do it.  I'll call out for Pizza first!  Even crappy frozen pizza before olives.

Oscar and His Drink Chip

My parrot, Oscar.  You might think he has a drinking problem, but it's a bit more playful than that.

You see, I can't really take him out for walks like I do with my dog, Rack.  In order to do that, I'd have to trim the toenails first. 

If you have ever heard the rather sarcastic stories on how to bathe a cat, it's similar.  Imagine talons as sharp as a sewing needle being thrust into your flesh as a beak that is like a pair of diagonal cutters being wielded by a man with intent to maim are coming at your body.

I stopped trying to keep his toenails filed down years ago when I realized it made me look like an extra in a slasher movie.

Don't try to teach a pig to dance, it won't work and only annoys the pig.

I can trim his flight feathers.  He allows that, although he complains about it.  I got very good at getting him so that his flight was a controlled descent.  I stopped doing that too since my departed dog, Lettie, was a bit too interested in him.  I figured that if a 45 pound McNab dog was quick on her feet, old Oscar needed to be quick enough to fly away.

I don't think Lettie saw Oscar as prey, more like an unruly bit of the flock that needed to be herded.

I didn't want to take that chance.

Since then I have tried to make sure that Oscar has plenty of toys to exercise his mind.  After all, if he's chewing on a hard plastic ring or preening a piece of cotton rope, he won't be shrieking at the music that is playing here.

All bets are off an hour after dawn or the hour before dusk.  That is the Call To Flock time, and well, they call to the flock to make sure they're all back in the trees.  Turn the music down, mute the TV and especially commercials, and hope for the best.

Those toys are gathered from strange sources.  Green bamboo cut from the backyard gives hours of fun, and it is kind of interesting to watch him turn the sticks into toothpicks, then later splinters.  It also saves my woodwork.

Any time we have a street festival, I look for something that might be interesting to him, or Rack.  The beach ball serves as a road block for Oscar.  He doesn't like it because Scary Ball Eeek! but he and Rack both like to preen the Hedgehogs I keep.

Because, HEDGEHOG!

Plush toys the size of your fist are a winner here, trust me on that.  If Beanie Babies were more sturdy, I'd have let them play with those years ago.

One of the strangest things that you find here in Wilton Manors are drink chips.  You folks who come from all over the world, sometimes travelling days to get here like to drink.  You usually travel here to drink with your phone in your hand looking at things that your friends you left behind are doing instead of finding something to do here.

Once bored with being online with your friends back home, you get bored with the bars.  You wonder why you came all this way just to sit in a dark and noisy corner when nobody will talk with you.

Here's a hint, Sunshine, Put. Down. The. Phone.

Seriously.

You slide your precious little fetish device into the pocket, along with your drink chip, and you stagger out to the cars.

Yes, you do, we notice.  We, being the locals.  Don't drive impaired, because if you do, I truly hope that you'll get stopped.

As you get to your car, you reach into your pocket.  Here is when Oscar gets a new toy.   Sliding that phone out of your pocket, your precious drink chip that you saved promising yourself that you'd come back tomorrow because that corner perch wasn't so bad and even comfortable, and that person over there by the window was cute when you got smiled at... falls on the ground and rolls under your car.

Yeah, the car with Ohio Plates.

You curse and get in and drive off.

The next morning, or perhaps even evening, we're out on our dog walk.  The little green chip is spotted and goes into my jeans pocket.  If it's a "Good One" it goes into the bowl with the others that will probably never get used.  If it isn't, and I have found chips from bars that had closed 5 years before, it goes to Oscar.

I'll set them on the counter next to his cage as he spots it.  His eyes will pin shut in excitement, and he will begin calling to his new toy.  Eventually I let him out and he explores.  Walking over to it he tries to pick it up. 

The only thing left after mankind's society falls will be Cockroaches and Drink Chips. 

These things survive everything, including a curious parrot's beak.  That's a good thing since I get them for free, even if the original owner paid five bucks for that drink that was secretly watered down.

Unfortunately for me, it means that I keep a bowl with chips in it that is sitting in plain view.  Like those magazines that you swear you are "Reading for the articles", the chips are "For the Parrot". 

You may not believe it, but at least I have proof, and a happy parrot is the payoff.

Propagating Ruellia, The Mexican Petunia

Ruellia. 
Mexican Petunia.

Whether you think they are invasive, or a nice ground cover, they're really quite simple to grow.

I'd say that they're easy to grow because they can be mildly invasive.  I have a hedge of them, about 75 feet long.  They grow about knee high, taller if they are undisturbed, so the word "hedge" is a bit of an exaggeration.

Why I am spending time on this subject is that there are people who hit this blog for the subject on a daily basis.  I am not sure how I became an expert on them, but... Hello!

The reality is that they are like Hostas are up North.  Ruellia are dead easy to grow in South Florida and other warm climates, used as ornamentals everywhere here, and will grow from cuttings.  They will take the cold down to freezing without too much notice (Zone 8), and will die back to the ground if it gets into the 20s returning next year (Zone 7).

Oh, I could be done with that right now but anyone who reads my blog on a daily basis will tell you I've got a story behind it all.

That wilted pot of weeds above will turn into a healthy looking pot in a month, probably be pot bound and ready for planting in two.

Simply put, I have about 6 to 12 inches of potting soil in there.  I keep the soil quite wet until they "take" in about a week.  The planting was as dense as you see it - a vase full of cuttings would do the job as well.

In April, knowing a friend was coming down for a visit at the end of May, I started the pot.  By his visit, the pot had a healthy and lush growth of deeply purple flowers and one random Mexican Milkweed growing in the center.

My friend went back home to Atlanta, and that next day I went out and tested to see if the pot was ready.  Giving a handful of the plants a tug, it lifted the soil loose from the rocks that I have as a layer for drainage.

They came up as a mat.

Great!  Lets plant.

The beauty of these things is that they don't require a lot of water, only when you're getting them started for the first week or so.    The normal soil moisture they get from the irrigation twice weekly is what they're happy with, and they're in a dry spot in the yard.

I dug a hole as deep as the root ball I had in a dry spot that needed something put in it.  I set that root ball in the little hole I dug, then watered it and walked away.  That's about it.  It "took" immediately and you wouldn't know that it was just recently planted.

I then started the next pot.  At this point, about a week later, the wilted plants are beginning to "lift their heads" and grow upright.  I'll be pulling that auxiliary hose out today since they just don't seem to need it to root.

Momma Duck and Her Chicks at M.E. DePalma Park

When you place a natural habitat near water, you're going to get water fowl.

That's a good thing.

It means that you live in a city that is Progressive enough to understand that Nature belongs where people do.  It means that your city is actively taking part in keeping a bit of the environment natural.  It also means that they're watching out to make sure that you aren't "Cheek-to-Jowl" with one tacky house slammed up against the next one.

Nobody likes that except for the real estate developers. 

I'm lucky enough to have this little gem near my own house.  M.E. DePalma Park.  I have the knock-off effect that the butterflies that I love to watch float over to my own yard and do whatever it is that Butterflies Do.

I suspect it has something to do with the nectar in my Bougainvillea wall, and the other flowers that I have here.  That and the Monarchs that are aggressively keeping my Mexican Milkweed trimmed down to sticks. 

Silly butterflies, but that is what I plant the stuff for.

It was one of those Dog Walks.  I seem to see the most interesting things on these walks, from natural to the human-space, as well as quite a lot of quirky things that go on here.  It's an entertaining city to live in, Wilton Manors, Florida.

We walked past the little park that evening.  Me and my sidekick, Rack, the McNab SuperDog (TM).  If you want to get to meet the neighbors, get a dog and go for a walk between 5 and 7 any evening.

I was gathering my act together and Rack had spotted them.  My being self-absorbed in the work of tying a knot in a "dog bag", and we all know how enthralling that can be, allowed Rack to pay attention to the hissing in the underbrush.  I stopped what I was doing and paid attention.

Momma Duck had taken up residence in the park under some trees in a partial thicket.  She's been there long enough this year for me to believe that she laid the eggs there and would waddle down to the South Fork of the Middle River that keeps us happily separate from Fort Lauderdale, and find food.  She would then return and tend to her own flock.  There isn't enough wildlife that would want to turn those eggs into an impromptu omelet here in town, so I'd say she's safe where she is at.

Momma didn't like my standing there getting my camera ready, and the babies wandered off one after another.  Finally Momma left, hissing at me. 

Seemed a little half-hearted, but these Muscovy Ducks are the distant descendants of pet ducks that had been brought in many years ago.  They've never been a nuisance that I have seen, and they do keep some of the other pests at bay. 

Or at least at river.

Having gotten my pictures, I told her goodbye and got ready to leave  She stopped hissing as soon as I made my comments, and went back to the business of tending to her little brood in the little corner of the little park in the middle of the little Island City.

A father and His 11 Year Old Son are Walking Through the Pharmacy One Day

A father and his 11 year old son are walking through the pharmacy one day.

As they walk past the family planning aisle, the son points to the condoms and asks "Dad, what are those?"

The father realizes his son is old enough to learn about such things, so he tells him "Well, those are called condoms. Men use them when they have sex to be safe and not get girls pregnant."

"Okay." the son responds. "Who are those for?" he asks while pointing at the 3 pack.

"Those" the father replies, "are for men in high school: One for Friday night, one for Saturday night, and one for Sunday night"

"What about those?" the son asks pointing to the 6 pack.
"Those are for college aged men: Two for Friday, two for Saturday, and two for Sunday?" the father responds.

"And what about those?" the son asks pointing to the 12 pack.

With an air of confidence, the father looks up and says "Those, son, are for married men: One for January, one for February, one for March..."

Happy Fourth Of July - Now, Keep Your Pets Indoors Tonight

I'm glad that this sort of thing is getting some "traction" these days.


Oh sure, those without dogs will just shrug, or worse laugh it off and toss firecrackers around the yard closest to your side of the fence.

But as someone who has a fearful dog, I see it first hand.

When the storms come, my own Rack, the McNab SuperDog(TM) crawls into a corner and hides.  Then he starts to shiver to the point where the furniture is vibrating.

It's not a good scene.

We're expecting Thunderstorms today, in fact there's a rogue cloud floating around

at this very moment.  That was what got me started on this bit.  I've got on my own noise canceling headphones and some electronic trance music on so it's got to be close for me to hear it.  But when it goes quiet, I hear Rack's dog tags rattling. 

He's not a happy camper when it comes to this sort of thing.

Last night, Friday, I knew some yahoo would be firing off fireworks.  We had dinner, then our dog walk, then I sprang into action.  I drugged my dog.  That sounds a bit severe, but I do have some "herbal stuff" I got from the Vet.  It takes the edge off, and it helped.

When dusk happened at 8:30ish, they started firing off their rockets.  Rack was breathing a bit hard but wasn't shivering.  At least I knew that the "Herbal Stuff" helped.

Tonight I'll do the same thing.

If you're going to give your dog a sedative, do it with the Vet's knowledge.  Don't just grab grandma's happy pills and "hope for the best".  The pills I've got here are prescribed.

As for the timing?  That was intentional - I did it a couple hours before sunset because if your dog is hearing all those fearful rockets and you give him the pills, they won't work. 

I'll be doing the same at around 6PM tonight.

As for that first picture?  Well I'll copy in what I said last year.

Having borrowed the first picture from Facebook, I wanted to credit the organization I borrowed it from.

The N.O.A.H Animal Adoption Spay and Neuter Center - or Northwest Organization for Animal Help (NOAH) "is dedicated to stopping the euthanasia of healthy, adoptable and treatable homeless dogs and cats in  Washington State. We are committed to high quality spay and neuter programs available for low income residents, family friendly pet adoptions,  humane education, and volunteer programs through our state-of-the-art facilities and Spay/Neuter Center."

They are based in Stanwood, Washington so if you are thinking about a pet you can check out their furry friends that are available or check out their photo tour.

Wilton Manors Florida Skies, Stonewall Pride

Other than the question of who in their right mind runs a street festival in the middle of South Florida in June, it was rather a nice day.

90 Degrees, brilliant sun, and a breeze that wasn't too strong.

Not bad really, I mean there were some nutbags predicting doom and gloom for anywhere that had a Stonewall Festival.  Not here.  Oh sure, it was held at least a month later than the locals would have thought right, but there wasn't a problem to be seen in the conditions.

After all, there was no rain, it could have been hotter like in some other cities north of here, and those torrential downpours were reserved for places that the nutbags were at like Texas.

Then again things are always nutty in Texas.

This is what I get to see most days.  Weather like this. 

Never really gets much hotter.  Sure, 95 at the peak, but I've been in hotter in Philadelphia.  One day I was at the Art Museum there when the conditions were announced as being 101F.  I merely stood up and continued on, did another 5  miles on my inline skate workout.

Heat is not a problem for me.

I did like the picture, and didn't really know what I'd do with it.  Other than turn it into a Postcard From Florida, and place it in the blog.  I'm sure I'll put it to use somehow.  After all, it is good as an illustration of what it looks like down here.

90F with a 20 percent chance of showers.

Cut Leaf Philodendron In Bloom

There is a certain finesse that you need to garden here in South Florida.

I'm not sure exactly what that finesse is.

After we hacked back the undergrowth in the yard, cut the 30 foot tall Sea Grape tree to 20 foot sticks, lopped the head off of the Podocarpus and bougainvilleas, we held our breaths.

After a bit things came back with a vengeance.

Now the Podocarpus have brilliant chartreuse growths on them.  The Bougainvilleas are growing new pointy bits and putting out shocks of magenta blooms.  The palm trees have been sending out more of those seed pods we have to cut off or else the seeds get stuck in the pool filter.

And then this happened.

The flower is actually about 2 feet tall.  Call it 60 CM.  A massive thing that looks like a lily came popping up in the middle of a green firework of leaves back in the back of the yard.  It has a trunk on it that is easily as thick as your forearm and as long as you are.  We keep pushing it back in place but it insists on growing out toward the pool where the light is.

I found it when I was looking for a place to do some strategic planting.  My dog, Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) insists on privacy.  I know, a dog that demands privacy to do His Business is a bit out of the ordinary.  What he does is run around looking for a spot but if he sees anyone nearby, he will move away to where you can't see him in order to squat.

If he can't see you, you aren't there.

Since he found that the gap between the fences and the hedges is Dog Friendly, I have been putting plants in there.  My pot of Ruellia and the other one of Hibiscus had matured and it was time to put them back into the ground to start over.  Ruellia takes about 2 months to go from droopy sad cuttings to a root bound mass that is looking to be planted.  The Hibiscus takes more water and more time but it was just about as root bound as you could get.

Both of those went into the ground near Rack's Private Room.  Blocked off one of the entries with dark green leaves and little purple flowers.  The Ruellia didn't even notice that it had been pulled up and dropped unceremoniously on the top of the ground in front of the Hibiscus.

Where the finesse comes in was that I found a little emerald jewel there.  Apparently there was a Monarch that had decided to put a chrysalis there on or near the lone Milkweed that took in that crowded pot.

I placed it somewhere safe, in the crook of some other plants where it will grow unmolested.

But that is why it takes finesse to garden here.  You never know what you will disturb.

Pineapple Coconut Tapioca - Or Learning Spanish I Got A Completely Different Recipe Than The Chef Intended

The story goes, I'm learning Spanish.  Duolingo is a great way to get a basis in a language, so I have been practicing.  But once you get a basis, you want to stretch out a bit.

I thought if it worked for kids here in English, why not try Sesame Street?  Ok, so it's Plaza Sesamo and it worked quite well.  I can follow along Plaza Sesamo well enough that I'm smiling my way through it.

I picked up a cartoon called Franny's Feet, or what translates to the Magical Feet of Franny on V-Me (PBS) and I'm following it fairly well.  It is for a slightly older audience than my current level but that's how you learn.

And no matter what someone says about it, I still think it's a bit weird to have a kid try on other people's shoes, fall into a wormhole, then have a trippy adventure and come home only to find she "kept" something from the journey.  Sounds like something someone described on an acid trip to me, but it helps with my Spanish.

I thought I would try a cooking show.  I am a good cook, some of my dishes are excellent.  Just search this blog for some fascinating recipes.  Chef Laura is on a network called HITN which is out of Brooklyn, NY.  It does PBS one better since there are no damn commercials!

I watched Chef Laura Rosa Lopez make a Pineapple Coconut Tapioca dessert.  It looked like a "Drink" you might have, since when she ladled it out into the parfait glass it was still liquid.  It was still warm then so that may explain it.

But since my own Plaza Sesamo level Spanish got in the way, I found myself watching the recipe being prepared about 30 times on the DVR and then making mental notes.

I am sure what I did was something different than what Chef Laura did.  She folded Whipped Cream into the Tapioca to make it 'lighter' at the end.  After doing a lot of research, I came to the conclusion that if you are in a Hispanic family, you probably have your own recipe.

Therefore, here is mine.  I will give the Spanish recipe complete with my notes, then I will clean it all up and add the recipe I made.  My own heavily adapted recipe made a pleasant tapioca pudding with a virgin Pina Colada taste.

Since I still have the recipe as Chef Laura prepared it, I will definitely revisit her method.  It looked interesting, and I rather like the challenge - both of preparing it and of learning Spanish.

Next time I make this recipe, I will change the process.  I'll be soaking the tapioca in the juice from the pineapple and add in water to get to 1 1/2 cups.  Then cook the whole lot together.  It will add extra pineapple flavor to the recipe and bring it into a more tart balance since the coconut was rather sweet from the sugar that they use to process it.

Recipe In Spanish:

• 1/3 taza de tapioca
• 1 1/2 taza de agua
• 1/2 taza de azucar
• 1/4 de taza de coco rallado - grated coconut
• 1 taza de pina fresca picada - pineapple chunks
• 1 lata de leche evaporada - 1 can
• 1 cda. de vainilla - scant tablespoon

Recipe in English:

• 1/3 cup Tapioca Pearls
• 1 1/2 cup Water
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup grated coconut
• 1 cup Pineapple Chunks in juice
• 1 can Evaporated Milk
• 1 Tablespoon Vanilla

Preparation:

• Soak the tapioca pearls in 1 1/2 cup of hot from the tap water (125F) for an hour, stirring gently every 15 minutes or so.
• Cook at medium heat the tapioca pearls in the water with coconut and sugar until tapioca is transparent.
• Add the pineapple chunks without the juice, and can of Evaporated Milk and reduce heat to medium low.
• Add and mix in a Tablespoon of Vanilla Extract.
• Pour the dessert into parfait cups and garnish.
• Optional - For extra lightness, fold two cups whipped cream into the tapioca pudding.
• Chill before serving.