Archive for the ‘Education’ Category
The waiting has begun in earnest here. The lives of my better-half and I are in slow-motion and will remain so for at least another week. Our grandson who just turned two and a half is only a week away from becoming someone’s big brother. My better-half’s daughter came to visit two days ago and OMG is she ever pregnant. She’s a small and petit woman normally who appears to be carrying a child who’s as big as she is.
‘This was taken two months ago, so you can just imagine her current size.’
Her last few visits had me a little nervous to say the least. I sat patiently watching and waiting and expecting her to give birth right in my living room. She’s at that point in the pregnancy where she’s uncomfortable, tired, worn out, and ready for this nine month project to come to an end. As are we all.
Fortunately the grandson has been kept in the loop throughout the pregnancy and as with other first born children appears excited about having a new sibling. I also suspect that like many other first born children he isn’t at all prepared for the competition that is to follow. For the rest of his life he’ll be one of two instead of THE ONE. His life is about to change dramatically and forever.
Once the birthing process begins and she’s on her way to the hospital the little guy will be spending a few days with us until things have progressed to the point where he can meet his new brother or sister. They’re keeping themselves and the rest of us in the dark as to the sex of the child for some inexplicable reason. I’m really looking forward to the moment when he’s introduced to the new baby to see his reaction and to watch the bonding process begin. He’s fortunate to live in a time where this can happen under the best of circumstances rather than the way it was done in the past.
Secretly I’ve been hoping for a girl but will be thrilled with either. I’m not at all sure if being a big brother to a sister or a brother is preferable but we’ll find out soon enough. I’m just praying that everything goes well and the result is a healthy, happy baby, and mother.
The countdown continues.
I spend an hour or so every other morning sitting in this bed and writing about my life and my interactions with the rest of the human race. Sometimes it’s interesting and sometimes not so much. There are times when finding subject matter becomes an issue. It’s not a problem finding things to write about it’s deciding what things shouldn’t be written about that is my main problem.
I’ve been taken to task on many occasions by both friends and family about things I’ve written. Some asked, some begged, and others demanded that they be left alone and not included in my ramblings. It took years for me to find that comfortable little niche where I was allowed to say just about anything without repercussions. You see my problem don’t you? It’s the reason that I never post photo’s or use names of the people in my life. Truthfully they think what they and say do is so vitally important and private that I should never write a thing about them. I think that’s a huge steaming pile of ridiculousness because everyone is egocentric and thinks the world would stop tuning if their everyday boring crap isn’t kept totally secret. That’s silly I know but everyone including myself seems to feel that way. I guess that just means we’re all a little more delusional than we’re aware of or care to admit.
I thought it was time for me to restate my approach to blogging because it continues to change and be readjusted the longer I do it. I suppose I could give all of the more important and interesting characters in my life cute little nicknames or aliases but that to me is stupid. I could write in great detail about all of them and their activities and cause a great deal of turmoil as I went about doing it. I could post questionable photographs of them so the world would know just how important they’re not. But I don’t and I won’t. That simple statement should help some of them sleep a little better tonight.
This posting is just a polite statement of my style of blogging and my motives. I blog because I love to write and what better things are there to write about than my own activities. I’ll continue to do this for as long as I can regardless of what anyone thinks. The only motivation that keeps me going is that generated by me. Outside influences are interesting but annoying and have no effect on how I approach this blog. It will continue without change into the future.
Even Ted Kaczynski had a manifesto that explained his bizarre way of thinking. That’s the right of every citizen to voice their opinions regardless of how right or wrong they are. I intend to keep my blog rated at a PG level but with a minimal amount of cussing and swearing. I do plenty of that in my everyday life and find it much more pleasurable than writing it. There’ll be no photos of people in my life and no actual names will be ever be used. It isn’t really necessary because they all know who the hell they are anyway.
So I’m about to leave my warm bed and begin my day. The blogging will continue and be as harmless as possible except when someone or something pisses me off. That’s just human nature and I choose to do it here on this blog rather than standing at a water cooler bitching about the world to a bunch of people who are bitching right back at me.
I prefer individual bitching rather than having it become a group activity. This blog is MY water cooler.
Have a wonderful and sarcastic day.
Today has turned into a throw away day. It started late last night when I got caught up reading another Jack Reacher adventure novel and before I knew it it was 3 am. I crawled into bed finally and was just about asleep when my better-half’s alarm went off at 4 am. I stumbled into the kitchen and poured myself a large mug of coffee but it barely helped at all. As I groggily passed my better-half in the hallway I kissed her on the forehead entered the bedroom and fell into bed once again. I set my alarm for 830 am because I was sure my eye doctor would be patiently waiting for my arrival in his office at 930 am.
I fell asleep for a half hour and then was forced to get dressed and get moving. I left the house three times and returned within minutes each time. It doesn’t sound like a big deal normally but since the installation of our security system it’s become a real pain in the ass. I returned first when I forgot my camera and left again, then I returned once more when I forgot my Kindle and left again, and lastly I returned because I forgot to turn off the alarm on my beside clock. All that screwing around was making me a little crazy and the alarm system was talking to me the entire time and sending me emails for fifteen minutes. Oh, the price we pay for protection.
I arrived at the Mall of Maine with time to spare but since the stores don’t open until 10 am I couldn’t do any window shopping. I was forced into the food court for a coffee and a little people watching. I try never to go near malls but this trip became very educational very quickly. As I sat drinking my coffee and killing a little time the herds of senior citizens began circling. A continuous stream of blue hairs with walkers, canes, and even wheelchairs went flowing by like a river of old farts. These people are the early morning mall rats who eventually will turn over custody of the mall to the teenage mall rats who like to sleep until early afternoon. Just two moderately interesting social groups with their own little routines and pecking orders.
It was a fashion experience I could have done without. Walking outfits of bright colored spandex were everywhere and I have to say there’s nothing like a seventy-five year old pear shaped cutie in a pink fluorescent body suit strutting her stuff. And believe me she had a lot of stuff to strut. The longer I sat there the more looks I was getting because I was a new face in the crowd. Before I knew it two apparently single ladies plopped down at my table and offered to buy me a coffee refill. Many people say that the girls of our younger generations are somewhat more aggressive than the young girls of the past. I think that’s true to a degree but they have nothing on these single, spry, and sexually interested older women. Man it was a just little scary since I haven’t been hit on like that for quite some time.
Fortunately I was able to sneak away after telling them I was late for my eye doctor appointment. I heard a few "we’ll see you tomorrow’s" as I walked quickly away and made a note to myself on my phone: No more freaking morning mall visits.
Yikes!!!
Today will be a short lesson on making wine. As I’ve mentioned in past postings I’ve been attempting to make a batch of Honey/Maple Mead. A few weeks ago I began the process and things were going quite well. After the initial fermentation the color of the mead was a beautiful golden color and was clearing nicely as the yeast completed it’s alcohol production. Maintaining a temperature of seventy degrees was the only challenge at first but things appeared to be going well.
I siphoned the wine a second time two weeks ago and was feeling pretty good about things but I should know by now never to get overconfident. After completing the siphoning and out of curiosity I decided to take a quick taste. I was hoping for a smooth and mildly sweet mead. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. It was extremely dry and tart with almost no aroma of either honey or maple. I’m afraid that the champagne yeast was a wrong choice for this type of wine. Champagne yeast is more resistant to alcohol giving the batch a tartness I wasn’t looking for. Normal yeast would’ve given me a much milder version that was a little sweeter and closer to my goal.
What I’m really trying to say is this batch is awful and I was sorely tempted to throw the entire experiment out. I then decided to attempt the impossible and fix the problem. I needed to add just enough sugar to sweeten the mead to bring back the flavor that is being hidden by the harshness of the alcohol. After experimenting with different sugars I decided to stay with the theme of the mead and to sweeten it with Maple syrup. I added one cup of diluted maple syrup to each gallon of mead which I hoped would give the mead a much sweeter flavor and a deeper color. The maple flavor was wonderful and the aroma was amazing.
I placed the jugs back into a warm room to determine if the yeast would reactivate. So far it seems to be lightly fermenting which was expected. I’ll let it sit for a few weeks to allow the yeast to die and for it to clear once again. Then a final taste test and I hope a successful bottling.
I’ll have my fingers crossed the entire time hoping against hope the problem has been resolved. I’ll let you know.
Today is that day that occurs every six weeks or so and honestly it’s not one of my favorites. Let me explain.
First, regardless of what you know or think you know I’m not a fanatical environmentalist. I’m a former Greenpeace member who bailed out on them when they decided to turn their attentions to banning nuclear power. I’m a former Sierra Club member who decided that any organization that puts the needs of animals before humans regardless of the consequences is too extreme for me. I’m also militantly against organizations like PETA and the idiots that run them.
Now let me confuse you further. Up until 8 years ago I NEVER recycled anything. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the environment but I just didn’t see any long term benefits that required an investment of my time. I understand the need for it now but for the most part I didn’t take it seriously then.
When I met my better-half and after we decided to be together FOREVER my brainwashing began. In any relationship it’s mandatory that each participant be willing to compromise on certain things to maintain harmony. My better-half is convinced that by recycling she will save the world. Totally naïve but understandable. Unfortunately the town of Saco, Maine where we live apparently agrees with her. We’re now forced to recycle by the local government which in turn gives her even more ammunition to use against me. Separate the paper and plastic into the brown container and all of that good old fashioned trash into the green container. If you don’t obey the rules the town will refuse to pick up your trash. Heil Hitler to you too.
All of my working life experiences and accomplishments have now been turned on their head. Every six weeks or so I’m required to make a trip to a local recycling center to cash in bags of bottle and cans. I was coerced into maintaining those containers at our residence where each days bottles and cans can be collected and stored. Now part of my garage smells suspicious like that dumpy recycling center. If you like the smell of stale beer and garbage you too can be an environmentalist.
We live in a rural area and use a well as our primary source of water. Unfortunately well water is notorious for heavy mineral content and the occasional smell of rotten eggs. So for cooking, coffee making, and normal consumption we use bottled water purchased from local retailers. My new career as forced upon me by my better-half has reduced me to the level of a homeless guy wandering the streets collecting bottles and cans to save a nickel or two.
So every six to eight weeks I bundle up bags of bottles and cans, put the stinky crap in my car, and head out to collect my seven dollars. It supplies me with just enough money to pay for my cat’s needs. His food, treats, and litter are now paid for by my endless recycling efforts. To tell you the truth I’d much rather just pay for it myself and stop all this madness but this is the compromise I must make to maintain this Garden of Eden we live in and all of the benefits it provides.
Oh yeah, I’m also saving the freaking world too. Brother !!!
For years we’ve all been seeing and hearing about the numerous incidents of road rage that seem to occur daily somewhere in this country. There are shootings, stabbings, fist fights, and worse reported. Over the years I’ve had two memorable road rage incidents where I was once the aggressor and once the victim. I’m not proud of my actions but for some reason throwing the finger just wasn’t enough at those times. I can understand how those incidents can quickly become hostile and extremely dangerous. I once had an older gray haired women do her very best to run me off the road into some guard rails with her big Cadillac sedan. I never even received the obligatory one finger salute before she tried to kill me.
Living in Maine for all these years has made me aware of a local problem somewhat similar to road rage but not quite as serious. In Maine we have Snow Rage. With all the snow the northeast has been receiving this year many people in the surrounding states are seeing and experienced it for the first time.
Since the beginning of the year we’ve been buried in serious amounts of snow and as I cruise around I find myself witnessing many snow rage incidents. I recently saw a little old man shoveling his driveway entrance after the snow plow almost buried him. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was yelling but along with the one finger salute was quite the string of obscenities.
In a nearby town the streets are clogged with snow to the point of insanity. I watched a guy snow blowing large amounts of snow from his driveway back into the city street. With no place to put it he really had no other choice. Unfortunately he failed to see a passing motorist who was pelted with a huge stream of dirty snow across his windshield. There was a considerable amount of yelling and screaming but as they talked the motorist must have felt a little sympathy for the plight of the home owner. They shook hands and went on about their business. Violence was avoided by their agreement that there was too much damn snow, that snow plow drivers suck, and the town isn’t getting the streets cleaned like it should. No guns were pulled or punches thrown as you usually see in some road rage incidents.
I see and hear many innocent and loud discussions taking place in parking lots all over the area but never any real violence. We’re all being victimized by good old Mother Nature and regardless of how much we bitch and complain she just doesn’t care. Living in Maine can be trying at times but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Another day in the deep freeze that is Maine. I keep bitching about all of the snow but each day I’m also anticipating and hoping for a few snow free days. We had three or four inches of snow yesterday which this year is like nothing at all. I’ve been constantly trying to widen the driveway in order to have more room for the new snow that’s coming but it’s a losing battle. Here are a few mailbox related photo’s. None of them are my mail box because it was totally destroyed by the snow plow in the last storm. I have only a bag full of pieces left.
‘This is as good as you can hope for.’
‘This delusional neighbor honestly thought these red streamers would help.’
‘You’ve Got Mail – NOT’
I checked the weather forecast last night and OMFG was I sorry I did. A new storm is on the way and is forecast to drop somewhere in the area of two more feet on us on Saturday and Sunday. To add insult to injury they’re predicting wind gusts of fifty mph which should make for some humongous snow drifts and ball freezing wind chills. The drifts could possibly get as high as six feet or more.
With all of that good news coming our way I’m going to spend this snow free Friday preparing for the coming storm and also our celebration of Valentines Day. I’ve completed my shopping for Valentines Day gifts and if it snows a few feet we’ll have lots of snuggling time to be sure.
My better-half made arrangements last night for a heating oil delivery this morning and I’m patiently waiting for the truck to get here. I spent a half-hour last night digging a path from the driveway around the side of the house to where the oil tank nozzle is located. If we don’t have a path properly cleared they won’t deliver the oil. I’m always cooperative especially when I have no freaking choice.
The next chore is to make a quick trip out for a few gallons of gas for the snowblower. With all this snow on the way the blower will be getting a serious workout and I certainly don’t want to run out of fuel. I’d have a heart attack and die if I was forced to shovel all this white crap by hand. We’ve stocked up on food and checked the generator to make sure we’ll have power if there’s an outage. Just a normal process we must adhere to for any large winter storm here in Maine. Then we can sit back, watch the snow pile up, and pray for Spring to arrive.
I heard on the news yesterday that we’ve had between seventy and eighty inches of snow since the first of the year which even in Maine is outrageous. It should make for some really cool photographs and I intend to take as many as I possibly can. I guess the old saying is true, “when you’re given lemons make lemonade.”
The cat and I are still in bed as I write this. My better-half is out in the snow storm on her way to work and I’m waiting by the telephone in case of any emergencies. The snow is relatively light but has been coming down steadily since last night and it’s anticipated to continue for the next twenty-four hours. The roads quite simply are a bitch.
To say I’m a little sick of the snow is a major understatement. I’ve decided that going out to clear the driveway will just have to wait until much later in the day. I’m thoroughly enjoying my coffee and cookies and I intend to stay warm and toasty for as long as possible.
Having this cold weather keeps the house temperatures in the med to low sixties. That temperature issue gave me fits earlier in the week when I decided to make a new experimental batch of home made wine. I’ve made Mead in years past which is basically nothing more than wine made from honey. In keeping with my goals for 2015 I wanted to make something new and different. After a lot of research I created a recipe that would make a Honey & Maple Syrup Mead. I had to make a few educated guesses with the ingredients but I pushed fearlessly forward.
The basic ingredients consist of distilled water, Orange Blossom honey, Clover honey, and an all natural maple syrup made with the sap from local trees. My difficulty was going to be able to keep the primary fermenter warm enough to properly activate the yeast. Our house is usually sixty three degrees but I need temps between 68-74 for the best results.
I was forced to use a small heater that I purchased many years ago that was once a tropical fish tank heater. It’ been sitting in a box in the garage for a couple of decades. It’s a long glass tube that you insert into the fermenter and it’s thermostat maintains the level of heat you select. After all these years the little devil worked perfectly. I then added just a pinch of roasted fennel seeds and rosemary for a faint hint of licorice and pine which I hope will give the wine a little character.
Once the wine was siphoned from the fermenter into the glass jugs I moved them all upstairs to store them in the warmest area of the house. The heat must be sufficiently high because they’re bubbling away as they should be. In a few months I’ll have something new and interesting to sample and it’ll either be 25 bottles of tasty wine or something God awful. We’ll just have to wait and see. Making wine teaches a person patience if nothing else.
I’d like to keep writing but I’m wanting more coffee to help me find the motivation I need to get out of this warm bed and to go play in the snow.
It’s Thursday morning and I’ve just arrived home from the hospital. My hopes for a clean report on my colonoscopy are again disappointing. After a thorough scoping by a very competent doctor he found one stinking polyp. It was too large to burn off so he snipped a chunk from it for further testing. He assured me that 90% of all these polyps are normally benign. So for now I’ll be forced to go with that all the while keeping my fingers crossed.
‘Yuck + Yuck + Yuck = My Night’
You should know that the 36 hours before the colonoscopy were absolute hell. I’ve been through a number of colonoscopy cleansings and as this one began I was happy at just how easy it seemed to be going. The laxative pills were small and harmless looking, the Gatorade didn’t taste too bad, and the laxative powder that went into the Gatorade looked innocent enough. Will I never learn.
I began by taking two pills and then drinking four classes of the laxative laced Gatorade every 30 minutes. I took a break and drink just plain water for an hour and then drank another glass full every half-hour until it was all gone. At 10 pm I was to take two more pills, drink a few more glasses of water and wait. Let me tell you a little secret, I didn’t have to wait very long.
Just after I went to bed all hell broke loose in my body. It was back and forth to the bathroom with each trip becoming more urgent than the last. I won’t try to describe the nastiness that occurred between two and three in the morning. All I’ll say is that at 2 am I was forced into taking an emergency shower, then forced to mop the bathroom floor, and later to strip my bed and do an emergency load of laundry. It was ugly, nasty, humiliating, and unforgettable.
With the results from todays explorations I’m to remain in the five year rotation for future colonoscopies. It seems those folks in my gene pool passed along some of their more depressing traits to yours truly. The story of my effing life.
‘’
’Looking Out the Front Window Today’
I’ve just had my first solid food in the last forty-eight hours and it was fantastic. I’ve been ordered to take it easy for the rest of the day and to get some well needed nap time. There’s really nothing much more to blog about today except for the damn snow storm raging outside my window. I’ll hibernate for the remainder of the week and hopefully get things back to normal by the weekend.
I’m sure glad this is over with.
Here is our driveway as of this morning. Another foot of snow yesterday is starting to become a bit much, even for Maine. Unfortunately another storm is scheduled for tomorrow and Thursday but no guesses are being announced as to what the total accumulation will be.
I can once again say “adios” to my current mailbox. Those wonderful snowplower’s have struck once again costing me my third mailboxes in three years. Those bastards!
My better-half and I made a two hour safari out into the snow just after the last storm passed by. The following pictures bring the winter season here in Maine in focus.
‘This is a robust and productive apple orchard in Summer but it looks a bit forlorn now.’
One of the sports here in Maine that has always fascinated me is ice fishing. The lakes in Maine produce a myriad of ice fishing neighborhoods that survive until the Spring thaw. Little shacks spring up giving all those adventurous fisherman and women a place to escape their families, bond with friends over a beer or two, and repeat those fishing stories to each other that one believes anyway. I’ve visited many of them over the years but I can’t honestly remember ever seeing someone catch a fish. I’m sure they do or at least I hope they do. These were taken on the lake closest to our home.
‘It’s just a little too cold for me.’
We took a drive along the coast on our way home and stopped at Old Orchard Beach, Maine. It’s our favorite haunts in the Summer when it’s packed with tourists and the amusement park is in full swing. It’s a little different now.
‘The party pier in winter.’
‘No bikini babes around here today.’
We’ll be forced to wait a few more months before we can start enjoying this area once again.
My posting for this Thursday will have to wait until I return home from my colonoscopy. I’ll catch a nap for a few hours and then post my hopefully good results from that experience. I’ve decided that getting a colonoscopy at this time of the year is perfect timing. If you’re going to be house bound because of the crappy weather you might as well let the doctors have their fun too.
everyuselessthing.com 