This weekend began the process of harvesting and the start of Fair Season here in Maine. My better-half, her daughter and grandson decided to attend a small fair held in the town of nearby Acton, Maine. Compared to some of the larger fairs it left a lot to be desired but that being said it has four things everyone loves here in Maine. There was livestock (and plenty of it), there was kids rides, dozens of food booths, and of course a country and western singer. Throw in a fat guy and tree and you got Christmas.
I totally ignored my year long weight loss program to pig out a little on funnel cakes and french fries and it was wonderful. I’ve been looking for a good excuse or even a bad excuse to eat something bad for me because it’s been a long, long year. I was even followed around for a bit by this yoyo who insisted I take his picture, so I did. Munch this, bozo.
There was a large variety of livestock for such a small fair and if you like cows you’d have been in heaven.
The country singer was just barely acceptable and that’s an opinion from a person who dislikes all Country and Western music. Even my better-half, the person who hums C&W music in her sleep, wasn’t impressed. There were a few interesting animals besides just cows like alpacas and goats but I couldn’t for the life of me find a horse anywhere to photograph. I learned that today was only the first day of the fair and the horses weren’t scheduled to make an appearance until the weekend. Too bad for me cause I’m not coming back.
As I walked around I came upon this sheep being sheared. I felt sorry for the poor thing because it looked very unhappy with it’s entire situation.
It was a gray and cloudy day with a nip in the air to remind us all that Fall is arriving a little early this year. We had a great time nonetheless and when the grandson got tired of being pushed around in the stroller it was time to go. This final picture I snapped as we drove away. This was a member of the traffic control team who was parking cars. No uniformed police here in Acton, he was on lunch.
Today has suddenly become a day of rest. It wasn’t planned this way but I’m nothing if not flexible when it comes to loafing. My better-half is gone to work, the cat is snoring at the bottom of the bed, and I’m watching an old rerun of Unsolved Mysteries while I type. I had a bit of a scare yesterday so I’m relaxing today and trying to recuperate. And of course it was a case of sheer stupidity on my part.
I awoke yesterday, had a cup of coffee, and then immediately headed for the treadmill for forty minutes of fun and torture. That workout is fairly intense and I’m usually soaked and exhausted after I’ve finished. I then took a short ride to Lowe’s to see my girl and to buy some supplies for what I hoped would be my last project of the summer. I purchased 25 gallon of driveway sealer and returned home intending to store the cans and to do the job another day.
During the ride home I kept thinking about the project and convinced myself I could get it done today. The weather was in the eighties and the sun was beating down. The perfect day for this type of project I thought. I swept the driveway, changed my clothes, and got to it.
In my bicycling days I was always told to avoid dehydration, "drink when your not thirsty". One one occasion I fell from my bike during a 100 mile ride because I hadn’t consumed enough water. I ended up in a clinic being treated after almost passing out. Did I follow that hydration rule today? Of course not! I was in a hurry to get the job completed so I started immediately without drinking anything.
An hour later I’m still at it, my clothes are soaking wet, and all of a sudden my legs gave out forcing me to sit in the yard for a few minutes to catch my breath. I knew what was happening so I slowly made my way into the house for water. I drank two bottles of water and sat for a bit to cool off. I should have stopped at that point but the job was only half done and I wanted to finish. I returned to it after putting on a hat and drinking another bottle of water.
Another half hour goes by and I find myself so weak I can barely stand. I sat down right where I was and couldn’t get up. It took almost five minutes before I had the strength to move and return to the house. More water and rest which didn’t help all that much. I knew I only had about ten more minutes of work to finish the job and decided to just do it, regardless of how I was feeling. That was stupid mistake number three. I finished the job and barely had enough strength to return to the house. I took a cold shower and drank more water but felt no better.
For the rest of the day and well into the night I wasn’t myself. I couldn’t focus on any one thing and had lost my appetite completely. I also slept badly during the night but it seems this morning I’m pretty much back to normal. I still feel a little shaky but better.
I’m only relating this story as a warning to others not to be as stupid as I’ve been. I could just as easily have dropped over and ended up in an ambulance rushing me to a hospital. This is from a person who knew better but said the hell with the circumstances, I can handle it. I couldn’t. It was more than a little scary but I guess it takes absolute terror to get through to me.
Remember to hydrate before your thirsty, while your thirsty, and again after you’re no longer thirsty. This has been my first and hopefully last health related Public Service Announcement.
I have a few least favorite things but two in particular. First, I hate having my teeth drilled. The sound and smell of teeth drilling makes me cringe because it’s been done all to often over the years. Second, I hate doctors, nurses and hospitals. I do realize they’re a necessary evil but I hate them none the less.
My late mother was never a well person. Through all of her illnesses and surgeries there paraded scores of doctors who spent more time spending her money than fixing her problems. Each specialist prescribed different medicines and drugs with little or no thought to the many others doing the same damn thing. They almost killed her a couple of times with their constant insistence that the next drug was the one that would fix everything. She trusted them with her life but I will not.
I’m ranting about doctors because I spent yesterday afternoon being manhandled by the new and improved healthcare system. Obamacare cost me my doctor of fifteen years when he threw up his hands last year, sold his practice, and left the country. I really wish I could have gone with him.
I arrived yesterday to go through an annoying series of blood tests which are required every time I turn around. I arrived early being the obedience dumb ass that I am and then sat for forty minutes while I waited for a computer person to enter my name into a freaking computer. Big surprise, they had no record of my blood test request or my upcoming doctors appointment. My obedient behavior became a thing of the past as I intimidated everyone involved to pull their heads out of their collective asses and get their act together. After another half hour I was advised that my doctors appointment I thought was scheduled for next week had been changed. Oops, no one sent me an email or letter telling me that. After much bitching and complaining on my part they agreed to fast-track my blood work to have it ready for my newly scheduled appointment tomorrow at 10am.
I had a surly and annoying young lady stick me and remove a number of tubes of my beautiful red blood. She was in quite the mood about something but decided to be an asshole toward me. Little did she know that I was once married for a very long time and that my-ex wife made her look like an freaking amateur when it came to pissing me off.
It’s now tomorrow and I’ve just returned from my annual doctors appointment All my numbers were perfect but he insisted on giving me the old one fingered prostate exam while a female assistant looked on. She was hot enough to be one of my hundreds of sexual fantasies but not after today. That ship has sailed. He then announced that he had an early Christmas gift for me this year. He’ll be scheduling me for my fifth colonoscopy in the last 9 years. My ass seemed to be very popular today for some reason.
Just to reiterate, I hate effing doctors, Medicare, Obamacare and Obama as well.
My better-half has announced a day-off today so we’ve planned an outside workday at home. Believe it or not Fall is just a few weeks away and we’ll be starting the process of closing down the garden soon. If we do a little each week then it won’t be such a challenge.
I really was in denial about Summer being over until yesterday. We were driving around enjoying the nice day when horror of horrors I noticed a few trees whose leaves have begun to turn red. I was a little surprised but a few days before I’d also noticed a large flock of birds gathering in a wooded area near our home. Both signs of an impending season change.
I guess it’s time to plan the work for today. Job #1: Cut the grass. That’ll have to wait until afternoon when the grass has dried somewhat. All the rain we’ve been receiving of late makes cutting in the morning impossible.
This morning will entail us working in the least favorite job we have. If you’ve ever seen the movie Apocalypse Now, you’ll remember that famous quote of Robert Duvall’s, "I love the smell of napalm in the morning." Here in Maine during this time of the year we have a quote of our own, "We love the smell of compost in the morning." If you’ve never had the opportunity to work in compost you don’t know what you’ve been missing. There’s nothing that says Fall like standing knee deep in a large pile of decomposing vegetable matter that oddly smells like an outhouse. If on a hot, sticky and humid day you took a rotten egg, wrapped it in a smelly old sock, then wrapped it in a really nasty pair of old filthy underwear, and rubbed it under your nose, you’d understand. That will be our morning today.
‘Piles 1, 2 and 3”
Pile 1 will be used for the garden in 2015. Pile 2 will be used in two weeks. Pile 3 will be used 2016.
A compost pile is crucial to keeping your garden happy and healthy. It replaces many of the nutrients needed to grow vegetables and they must be replaced every year. Unfortunately there are certain things a compost piles needs. It needs vegetable matter, water, heat, and stirring. Stirring is just taking the pile and turning it over with a pitchfork to allow more air to get into the mix and to help grow the bacteria that accelerates the decomposition process. That being said the reality is that it smells bad, really bad. After working in it today I’ll be smelling that smell for a day or so. It’s gross and more than a little disgusting. A typical day in the life of most farmers and part-time gardeners like us.
‘A big moist and steamy pile.’
I need to get to work soon but I wanted to tell you about my fun yesterday. Each year we do a large amount of canning but we always like to try new recipes we’ve found or created. Yesterday I made for the first time a batch of hot Radish Relish. It takes a few pounds of radishes, vinegar, habaneros, sugar, salt, and a few other spices. The result as you can see is a beautiful and savory red relish that will be great on burgers, hotdogs and can add a little zing to your tacos as well. Sometimes these experimental things fail miserably but not this one. I look forward to making it many more times in the future.
‘Start’
‘Finish’
Now that the rain has finally stopped I might be able to get out the house for a few hours. The last week minus two days has been pretty damn wet. Last night at 2am I took a peek out the rear window and surprise surprise, there was three feet of water in the back yard. The runoff from the surrounding hills became so heavy there was nowhere else for it to go. Fortunately the yard drains very quickly and once the rain stopped the flood disappeared.
‘The Beginning’
With all the rain keeping us inside I decided to take care of another cooking chore while I had the chance. I spent a good part of the day yesterday making salsa. My normal salsa recipe makes 10 quarts or 20 pints but I decided to increase it by fifty percent. I purchased the necessary ingredients, returned home and got to work. It took longer for me to dice the peppers, onions, and tomatoes than it did to complete the entire batch. Three hours later the kitchen looked like a tomato bomb had exploded but the end result was well worth the effort. I finished the batch with 13 quarts and 8 pints of some killer Roasted Corn & Black Bean salsa.
I changed the recipe a bit and added more habaneros, less jalapeños, and a healthy heaping tablespoon of cayenne pepper. I call this batch my Commando salsa. As your eating it, it slowly creeps up behind you when your not paying attention and blows the top of your head off. It has an immediate hit of habanero to jolt you a little and then the jalapeños lessen the burn somewhat. Just when the heat is subsiding from those jalapeño’s the cayenne kicks in at the back of your throat and nails you hard. With that mixture of peppers the more you eat the hotter it gets but man it’s a wonderful pain.
‘The End Result’
As of this morning it’s been canned, labeled and placed on the shelf. There should be more than enough to keep us salsa happy for this entire winter. I’ve worked my winter cooking list down to just two remaining items. I need to make a huge batch of chili and some hot pickle relish. Once those are complete I’ll pretty much be done with the garden for this year. I should be able to start removing some plants and begin the cleanup in two or three weeks.
Fall is fast approaching and I can’t wait.
After a little reflection it occurred to me that many of you have heard enough about gardens, canning, and other assorted foolishness I’m involved with. There will certainly be more of that soon enough but not today.
This blog was named Every Useless Thing for a reason. I love odd facts and facts that aren’t commonly known. I’ve drifted away from that of late and that needs to be remedied. I’ve been collecting sources of useless information for many years and still have a lot to pass on to all you.
As I sit here trying to concentrate I keep praying that this Novocain my dentist shot me full of wears off soon. I’m afraid to drink any hot coffee for fear of scalding my mouth. He said it’s effects should pass after an hour or so. It’s not that I think he doesn’t know what he’s talking about but dammit it’s already been two and half hours. I‘m sure you’ll be glad to know that after his fine work this morning I’m beautiful again. The world can once again rest easy.
Let’s get to the good stuff. More things you could care less about unless you hope to win a trivia contest or a few bar bets.
Bishamon, Daikoku, Ebisu, Fukurokuju, Jurojin
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Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon using his left foot first.
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President Andrew Jackson’s pet parrot had to be removed from his funeral in 1845 because it was swearing.
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Lee Harvey Oswald was dyslexic.
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Joseph Stalin, whose left arm was noticeably shorter than his right, also had webbed toes on his left foot.
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In the eight year period Ronald Reagan was president, the White House bought 12 tons of his favorite jelly beans.
I know you’ve missed this stuff no matter what you tell me. It just keeps getting more interesting and exciting. (sarcasm off)
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The difference between a nook and a cranny is that the nook is a corner and the cranny is a crack.
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Race car is a palindrome.
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Mick Jagger turned down a 3.5 million pound advance offer on his memoirs from a publisher because, he said, “couldn’t remember” enough significant details from his own life.
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Idiot quote: “Everything that can be invented has been invented.” U.S. Patent Office 1899
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A cat has four rows of whiskers.
I’m almost finished so hang in there for a minute. It’s not really as boring as you seem to think.
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The license number of the General Lee in The Dukes of Hazard was CNH 320.
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There are 1,943 names listed in the closing credits of The Matrix Reloaded.
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Virginia Woolf wrote all her books standing up.
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“Most cars on our roads have only one occupant, usually the driver.” –Carol Malia, BBC TV presenter.
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Pasta vermicelli means “little worms”.
All finished, another installment of useless crap has been distributed. Use it at your own risk, it can sometimes piss people off. You’ve been warned.
My last vacation of the summer has ended with the return of my better-half from her recent trip. She arrived late last night and fell into bed exhausted from all of the driving. She was wound pretty tight but dropped into a dead sleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. I knew I was in for a blow-by-blow description of the entire trip as soon as I woke up in the morning. Boy was I ever right.
She was moving kind of slow in the morning but after a couple cups of good strong coffee she finally appeared almost human. I rolled out early myself to get my forty minutes on the treadmill out of the way. As I came upstairs from the workout she surprised me with a belated birthday gift and a promise of a steak dinner with all the trimmings later on. I honestly never expected that because I’m not a someone who’s a big birthday celebrator.
We started the day with a food shopping trip to refill the larders. It was a nice day with sunny skies and warm weather and we thoroughly enjoyed our time together. We made a visit to the local Walmart, purchased a little of everything, and then just wandered around for a while to people watch. It was then that I began thinking of the dinner she was planning and what I could contribute.
As you’re aware if you read this blog often enough you know I’m a amateur winemaker. When we arrived home I went directly to my wine cellar to find a wine to compliment that beautiful steak she was going to prepare. I’ve been told by many people that homemade fruit wines usually loose their flavor after being bottled for more than two years. I found a few bottles of a strawberry wine that I made in 2003. At the time that wine was excellent and laughingly became known as the dancing wine. If you drank more than two glasses you’d be overwhelmed with the desire to dance your ass off. After eleven years I wasn’t exactly sure what we’d find.
‘It Was a Very Good Year’
Upon returning home we moved to the deck for an hour of total relaxation slowly sipping on a glass of wine that smelled wonderful and tasted even better. Two glasses each and we were aglow. I was shocked at how good the wine still was after all of those years in the bottle. We decided to take a short break, fire up the grill, and prepare the food for dinner. The steak was cooked medium rare and melt-your-mouth tender. Aluminum foil wrapped vegetables from the garden finished the meal off rather nicely. It was then time for a second bottle which went down even easier than the first.
It was great birthday celebration that was totally unexpected and I can report officially that we both were pleased with the end result. I just love happy endings.
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It’s now the morning after and I have another tidbit of information to pass along. That freaking wine while having excellent taste also brings along with it a mind-numbing hangover. I truthfully think I’m gonna die. Even the good coffee that usually saves the day isn’t working worth a damn. I’ll end this posting now because I need a power nap and a few dozen extra strength Tylenols.
Don’t come to my impending funeral, you’ll be disappointed. Happy Birthday to me.
It’s been one of those typical summer days. A little boring, a little strange, and a whole lotta weird. The weird occurred this morning when I received a “Friend Request” on Facebook from a person I haven’t seen or spoken to in almost twenty years. I immediately recognized his name, remembered his face, and then remembered more.
This guy I’m discussing worked for me when I was managing criminal investigations for a national corporation that will remain nameless. Part of my duties involved training the newbies in criminal interrogation and the handling of potential suspects. He was tagging along with me on a case involving the theft of thousands of dollars by some of our more nefarious associates. I’d completed a number of preliminary interviews with persons of interest and had narrowed the suspect list to three possible’s. My politically correct boss advised me by telephone to give the "new guy" a shot at the final interviews. I wasn’t too happy with that decision but there was nothing much I could do but sit in the room with him and watch. The main suspect was a female department manager who was known to be confrontational and extremely belligerent. As she entered the interrogation room she snarled at me and just stood there staring at him. You should also know she was a somewhat large woman.
It’s always important for an interrogator to quickly build a rapport with the interviewee before getting into the more difficult questions. This guy was trying to be so cool and suave that he began schmoozing the woman by asking her how many months pregnant she was. Unfortunately while she did look pregnant, she wasn’t. She jumped to her feet, screamed a dozen obscenities at him and then slammed the door as she stormed out of the interview room. It was all I could do to remain professional and not laugh out loud. He was utterly mortified and totally speechless. He violated the cardinal rule for doing a successful interrogation. Never, never, never, ask a question unless you already know the answer.
Fortunately I reinterviewed her the next day and managed to use his screw-up to get a full confession out of her. She stated after a few minutes of questioning that she’d tell me anything I wanted to know as long as I kept that no good SOB away from her. While she was at it she ratted out three of her alleged friends as well. It was a thing of beauty and something I’ll never forget.
Needless to say, I denied his friend request immediately.
I then made my daily trip to look in on my two new best friends. It was my last day of dog sitting before the better-half and her daughter return from their Maryland vacation. These first photos are of Jasper. He’s the elder statesman of the two who isn’t quite as peppy as he once was. He seemed pretty damn happy to get out of the house for a while and who wouldn’t be. He was locked in the house with two cats and a second spastic dog named Rihanna.
‘Jasper Showing His Good Side’
‘Jasper Being an Idiot’
This is Rihanna his nutso step-sister who’s half pit-bull and half lunatic. She has more energy than three dogs and will play fetch with you until you drop. She loves to jump up and greet people when she meets them and I have a scar on my forehead to prove it. Crazy freaking dog.
“A Rare Shot of Her Actually Standing Still’
I returned home and ended my day with two hours on the riding mower trying to cut this wet grass before the next thunder storm arrives. I really will be glad to have my better-half home on Saturday. At least she’s housebroken.
‘This is From a Nearby Neighbors Farm’
I’ve been enjoying my downtime since the departure of my better-half for her trip to Ocean City. The downside to her leaving is the fact that I’ve been stuck with some of her watering chores. She has at least a hundred plants surrounding the house, on the deck, and even in the house. I find having three plants six feet high in the living room very interesting. It’s like living in a jungle and that jungle needs watering all too often. God help me if these plants aren’t all healthy and happy upon her return. There could be bloodshed.
My second chore involved the babysitting of her daughters dogs. I need to drop in at their house everyday around noon to let the little buggers out for a pee break and a romp around the yard. I really don’t mind it all that much because I actually like most pets more than I like most people.
‘Good Eating’
Once her chores have been handled I can then move on to my list. Fortunately my list is flexible and if I choose not to complete anything on it no one would give a damn anyway. My list includes the garden that is continuing to produce ridiculous amounts of veggies. I’ve been trying to keep ahead of it by canning a few things each week but I’m quickly falling behind. Here’s a list of what we’ve canned so far and believe me I’m ready to call it a day anytime.
10 – pints of hot mustard dill pickles
6 – pints of pickled zucchini
12 – pints of pickled jalapeños
1 – quart of pickled veggie mix
6 – pints of pickled veggie mix
10 – pints of hot B&B pickles
I still need to make two large batches of salsa and a huge batch of chili. The salsa will be canned to the tune of twenty quarts or forty pints. The chili will be frozen in twelve one quart containers and that should give us enough for most of the winter.
‘This is Kick Your Ass Chili’
‘This is Double Kick Your Ass Salsa’
Once the better-half returns from her final trip of the summer we’ll get down to some serious work for a few weeks. It’ll be a huge relief to get the garden processed and into storage. If the results so far are any indication, we’ll surpass any expectations we had for a garden as small as ours. I’ve already started planning for next summer with the addition of a small greenhouse and an irrigation system that will use our water more efficiently. That will allow us to grow a few additional items in a more controlled atmosphere with less bug problems and better water control.
Back to the fun.
Well the better-half is finally on her way to Delaware. Her getting ready for a five day trip was much like the American soldiers preparing for D-Day. She packed everything except possibly a bazooka and c-rations. She spent five whole days packing for a five day trip which meant a minor crisis every hour or so for me to deal with. “Where’s this thing? Where’s that thing? Where did you put my recharger? My phone isn’t working properly, fix it! Why isn’t this GPS thingee working? It doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.” Man, I’ll need at least five days of rest to recover from her packing.
This posting will be all over the place today. A little of this and a little of that. For instance, I’m always telling everyone how much I love living in Maine and thankfully I found something that will explain it clearly for you. We have an abundance of natural wonders here but it’s the people that keep me interested. We were riding around a few days ago and came upon what could be called the Mt. Rushmore of Maine. Check it out.
This is a perfect example of free thinking Americans voicing their opinion without fear of reprisals from the liberal left. I appreciate their sentiment as well as the perfect way in which it was displayed. Subtle but effective. Here are a couple of close-ups so you can read the signs a little easier.
‘More Obama Fans’
‘One of These Thrones is for Biden too!’
Now let’s talk freedom of expression and mailboxes. I created a photo book a few years ago with dozens of photo’s of unusual Maine mailboxes. The Fed’s have a whole list of requirements for people who install a mailbox. It must be so many inches high, so many inches from the road, and God forbid if it’s not an approved US Government design. They may threaten you with a vicious bureaucratic note if you don’t obey their rules which just scares the hell out of no one.
I also love those little threatening notes they occasionally drop in my box or attach to my door that informs me that they’ll stop delivering my mail unless I clear the snow and ice from my around my mailbox. It’s Maine for God’s sake. There are times when I can’t even find it to clear the snow away. It’s either buried under three feet of frozen concrete or the town’s snowplow has removed it from my property and dropped into the yard of a neighbor a few hundred yards away. The fact that it will be in five or six pieces doesn’t seem to concern them either. The citizens of Maine apparently didn’t get that important government memorandum on mailbox requirements and if they did, they ignored it. I continue to find many mailboxes which violate all of the rules of the USPS which just makes me smile. It’s just a simple and direct way for Mainer’s to throw the big middle finger to the Fed’s.
Freedom is everywhere in Maine as reflected by this sign at a local biker bar. It just isn’t necessary to make up an impressive and phony name for your band. Just call things exactly what they are. Who wouldn’t drive a few miles to hear this group perform and throw back a few drinks as well.
LET FREEDOM RING
everyuselessthing.com 