Hi Everyone!
I've been told that some people are having issues looking at wedding photos from the links that were pasted on Facebook and stuff. So, here is a link that I have been told works:
https://picasaweb.google.com/114937612820486718376/WeddingPhotos?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCNH64d6QooiFhgE&feat=directlink
I'll be back to post more at some stage!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Irene: The Aftermath
Hurricane Irene, later demoted to the position of Tropical Storm Irene, recently blew into Stamford. We, along with a few other cities along the East Coast, were said to be right in the path of the storm (though the exact path couldn't be predicted and kept changing), so media outlets were predicting the worst. Widespread damage, flooding, power outages. We started to worry - if someone goes outside and blows hard at our power lines we lose power for days.
After a great load of fanfare, Irene arrived in the wee hours of the morning. I was asleep, during most of her visit, but Liz was woken up. This morning we woke up to find the wind still blowing, and the rain still coming down. By 3pm we figured it was time to step out, as survivors, and survey the damage and get our first look at this new, post-Irene world.
Some people would say we got off lucky, but I'll let you all look at the photos below and decide for yourself...
Reliving that walk, looking at what Irene did... yeah, we got off very lightly in our neighborhood...
After a great load of fanfare, Irene arrived in the wee hours of the morning. I was asleep, during most of her visit, but Liz was woken up. This morning we woke up to find the wind still blowing, and the rain still coming down. By 3pm we figured it was time to step out, as survivors, and survey the damage and get our first look at this new, post-Irene world.
Some people would say we got off lucky, but I'll let you all look at the photos below and decide for yourself...
Signs like this, with their 1 inch wide and 1/4 inch thick wood didn't stand a chance.
This sign on the street survived, but there was no sign of the person on the sign, or the dog. The only conclusion can be that they were blown away by the winds.
Ordinarily our back deck would have a table and grill/barbecue on it. Look at the deck above and they are nowhere to be seen... fine, so we moved them, but we moved them because of Irene.
Irene must have dunked this basketball hoop hard.
Bud Light littered the streets, presumably dropped by Irene as she went. I believe this is why her path was so hard to predict - can anyone really tell where a drunk person's foot is going to land next?
This car must have been blown into town all the way from Colorado.
Flood waters cascade down the drain on Turner Road. Water peaked at around 1/8 of an inch.
Winds blew these flip-flops/thongs 2 feet apart.
People on this street are lucky to still have power after branches fell onto the lines.
The Post-Irene world has spawned new profiteers and scavengers - they scour the streets, picking up people's broken trees, presumably to sell for profit. Step 1: Collect Wood. Step 2: ? Step 3: Profit.
The top level of Turner Road has been stripped away, leaving raised manhole covers and an uneven surface.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Friday afternoon thought process
Today was, and still is, Good Friday. While I didn't get the day off work, I got what some would consider the next best thing: an early close. So, when 3PM arrived, I got up from my desk and headed for the elevators. My plan was simple: grab the shuttle to the train station, catch a bus from there, then walk a short distance home.
I arrived in the lobby to see a co-worker looking at the screen that shows where the shuttle is. The screen is new, and earlier in the week I had talked to Ivan about how useless it is. I checked the screen, and the shuttle was right outside! Plan seemed to be working. I walked towards the doors, but no shuttle. I looked back at the screen, which mustn't have updated in a timely fashion.
Co-worker: "I guess we just missed it..."
Me: "I guess so. Unless... no, they don't often break out the special invisible bus."
Co-worker: "Yeah... probably not today anyway."
My mind started whirring: "The 33 bus gets me closer to home, and that runs at 3 and 3:30. The 31 gets me in the right neighborhood, and it runs at 3, 3:15, 3:30 and 3:40. If there is only 1 shuttle running at the moment, then it's going to take around 20 minutes to get to the train station and back. That means I will miss the 3:15 bus, and it could cut it fine with the 3:30 bus."
Me: "I'm gonna do the walking thing."
Co-worker: "The walking thing? I think I'll wait. Have a good one!"
Me: "You too."
I pushed through the doors and started for the grass that would cut me across the courtyard at the front of the building. I looked at my watch: 3:02. I crossed the road and started thinking:
"I wonder how long it would take me to walk home?"
I've wondered it before, and I kept thinking that this might be the perfect time to find out. It's early, it's not hot and it's not cold. It's overcast, so the sun isn't too strong.
"I'm going to walk home."
I kept walking, mapping the route out in my mind. I decide on a general direction and then think about how it would have been cool to take random pictures along my walk.
"Damn lack of a working camera phone!"
Now, let me explain. Work provided me with a Blackberry around 2 years ago. The model that they gave me, the 8830, doesn't come standard with a camera. I had to install it myself.
I walked under I-95, it was 3:10.
"Is this really such a good idea? Do I really want... why do I keep seeing those 4 door Porsches (sedans) everywhere lately?" that was the first, but certainly not last, time that I would start thinking about something and then get distracted by something shiny, distinctive smelling or just plain cool.
I passed PF Changs and looked at my watch. 3:13.
"I'm making good time!" was my cheerful realization. I've walked this route before when Liz was having regular appointments at the chiropractor after her car accident last year.
My route continued past the mall and I decide to turn after the mall and head for Bedford Street. I like Bedford Street: it has a few restaurants on it and it has some life to it. It will also then be a straight shot most of the way home. I get about 50 yards away from the intersection with Bedford and the bus that I would have caught at 3:15 is going through the intersection. It feels like a defining moment for me: that bus was the last realistic alternative to walking the rest of the way home. I turned the corner, it's 3:20. The bus is further up the road, stopped at a traffic light. Some people might consider that a taunt, but I'm still determined to see this challenge through.
The first of the restaurant smells hit my nose. The "restaurant" was McDonalds. The smell though is short-lived, as I pass McDonalds and hit Remo's. Remo's is a brick oven pizza restaurant, so the smell is immensely better now that I've walked a dozen steps forward. I keep going, and within about 20 yards I get the next smell.
"Mmmmm... Lucky's...." Lucky's Classic Burger and Malt Shop smells awesome, and the smell lasts from well before the front door to well past it.
I passed a small park, looking at a sculpture of a girl sitting on a bench. "Is she holding a mirror or a lollypop? She's pretty young, it must be a big ass lollypop. Wait, now that I am closer, she's holding lipstick in the other hand. That girl is way to young looking for lipstick."
I passed the church, and behind me I heard the unmistakeable burble of a boxer engine. I turned my head slightly and saw a 2005 WRX driving past me. Black, not too dark tinted windows, tasteful wheels, no rear spoiler. It's a nice car. Then, as I watch it, it passes a parked USPS truck!!!! Jackpot! 2 nice vehicles in as many seconds.
I've never walked down this side of the road before, and it brings me closer to the cop shop (police station) than I remember being. I start to notice a pattern amongst the cruisers parked out the front. "Hehe - car 25 is parked next to car 24. Then they're pulling 23 in too." Then there's an empty spot. "It's labelled 22... well, I guess that makes sense..." The pattern continues until I reach the end of the line, which ended a few cars later. Then it was a big jump, all the way down to 10. "What?!?!" The sudden drop in numbers blew my mind. It wasn't an ordinary cruiser either - it was one of the more stealthy, unmarked cars. The funny thing about their unmarked cars is that they still have Stamford Police stickers on them, they're just the same color as the car. "I wonder why the guy parked in such an obviously wrong spot in the numbered series?" I concentrated for a second, because I had to cross the road. I turned my head, and then I saw it. "Wait - is the unmarked car in an unmarked spot? Well played, Stamford Police."
So by now it's about 3:26 or so, and I'm passing a church. They have a sign up saying that they have a free Good Friday concert at 8PM. "I wonder if Faith + 1 is playing!" For the next few minutes I have this is my head:
My walk got boring for a few minutes, and I know what you're thinking: "Got boring? Why am I even reading this?" My attention was snapped back into focus by a flashing light. It was the type you would see on the top of an old police car, like at the start of a Naked Gun movie. It was mounted to the top of a non-descript trademan style van. "Contractor... I wonder if that's a mafia van? What? Why would that be a mafia van? And why would a mafia van want to draw attention to itself?" For the next few seconds I chuckle at my own brain's stupidity.
I reached the Ridgeway, which is a shopping center. I went to cross the road, and noticed the striped crossing under my feet. Out of nowhere, a Family Guy moment struck me. For the next minute or so, as I started up the hill, my brain kept going "Left foot, right foot" in Chris Griffin's voice.
My brain often has arguments with itself, where one part of it seems to be me, and the other part deems it necessary to refer to me in the third person.
"Hills? I didn't sign up for this!"
"Don't worry, Russell. Wherever you have an uphill like this, you have downhills as well. It's like you tell yourself on hikes!"
"Yeah, but brain, hikes are round trips, I'm only walking home one way!"
"You mean those hills just before home are all going to be uphill with no accompanying downhill?"
I hit the top of the small rise and realized that the gas station/mechanic at the bottom of the hill often has a USPS truck parked there. It seems to placate both sides of my arguing brain and I walk quickly down the hill. I'm rewarded by catching a glimpse of the parked USPS truck. I look up the rise I'm starting to climb, and I spot a current model Subaru Outback waiting up ahead at a T-intersection.
"I like the Outback, but I really didn't think I would. The first Legacy I saw, it just did nothing for me. But now I like them, and I think I like the Outback even more. Hey, an old Outback just passed me. Yeah, I like the new Outback much more. Hey, look, a HomeGoods. I wonder if I could get an Outback at a price that makes me HomeGoods happy" again I find myself laughing at myself, this time at my cleverness instead. "I've been walking for too long!"
Then I catch another whiff on the air. It smells like asian food, but not particularly good asian food. "But why am I smelling it outside an American style diner? Oh, I'm downwind from Chili Chicken. Whose idea was it to do an Indian-inspired Asian restaurant? Or is it Asian-inspired Indian? I can't remember..."
Now was the time to focus: I had to make a decision. I could veer right, and take the less busy street, Oaklawn, home, or I could stay on the main road. The path naturally veered right, so I kept walking up towards Oaklawn. It has sidewalks I had never walked on: I figure I may as well get some use out of the hassles the roadwork caused while they were putting the sidewalks in... I look up while I'm on the small street, because I've seen a Red-Tailed Hawk around here on more than one occasion. No sign of it today, though.
I started down Oaklawn, and then I saw another one. Another USPS truck. This one was being driven though. The driver must have caught me looking, because he waved to me. He may have also waved because he was pulling over right where I had just walked.
At the driver's wave, a new thought starts: "You know, the people at the post office are very hit and miss; sometimes they're nice, sometimes they're just plain rude and make it seem like you being there is the biggest inconvenience in the world for them. But the guys out delivering the mail? I've never met one that wasn't a nice person. Granted, we've only had a few mail people since I moved here, but each of them that I have met has been nice. These guys are out 6 days a week, in all kinds of weather, and they're still really nice. Maybe it's because they're free, and they spend so much time outside. But winter would suck... the only constant is the truck. USPS delivery staff are nice because they get to spend so much time in those awesome trucks."
It was an epiphany.
I got to Pepper Ridge Road, and I looked at my watch for the first time in a long time. It was 3:52. "Wow! I'm going to break an hour! I'm only going to get home a few minutes later than I would have if I had caught the 3:30 bus and had minimal walk! This is awesome!!! I really need to pee! And what is that awful manure-like smell?!"
The good thoughts, desire to pee and desire to escape the smell start to propel me up the hill. About half way up my legs started to burn. I'm showing winter fitness levels right now... I looked up and saw 2 planes flying across the sky, then two other forms circling one another.
"Red-Taileds!"
I could tell they were hawks because they were flying flatter than vultures, and they weren't wobbling. Seeing the raptors buoyed my spirits and I reached the turn to our street and powered along. I checked the mail, walked up the back stairs and plonked my bag down on the deck to get my keys out.
At 3:02 I had been standing in the lobby of the office. Now, at 3:58, I was standing on the back deck. If you do the math, that's 56 minutes to walk 3.7 miles/5.92 kilometres. In winter shape I'll take that.
It might have taken me a couple of minutes longer to get home, but it gave me time to think. It also made me realize: perhaps I don't want time to think - sometimes, it gets weird.
I arrived in the lobby to see a co-worker looking at the screen that shows where the shuttle is. The screen is new, and earlier in the week I had talked to Ivan about how useless it is. I checked the screen, and the shuttle was right outside! Plan seemed to be working. I walked towards the doors, but no shuttle. I looked back at the screen, which mustn't have updated in a timely fashion.
Co-worker: "I guess we just missed it..."
Me: "I guess so. Unless... no, they don't often break out the special invisible bus."
Co-worker: "Yeah... probably not today anyway."
My mind started whirring: "The 33 bus gets me closer to home, and that runs at 3 and 3:30. The 31 gets me in the right neighborhood, and it runs at 3, 3:15, 3:30 and 3:40. If there is only 1 shuttle running at the moment, then it's going to take around 20 minutes to get to the train station and back. That means I will miss the 3:15 bus, and it could cut it fine with the 3:30 bus."
Me: "I'm gonna do the walking thing."
Co-worker: "The walking thing? I think I'll wait. Have a good one!"
Me: "You too."
I pushed through the doors and started for the grass that would cut me across the courtyard at the front of the building. I looked at my watch: 3:02. I crossed the road and started thinking:
"I wonder how long it would take me to walk home?"
I've wondered it before, and I kept thinking that this might be the perfect time to find out. It's early, it's not hot and it's not cold. It's overcast, so the sun isn't too strong.
"I'm going to walk home."
I kept walking, mapping the route out in my mind. I decide on a general direction and then think about how it would have been cool to take random pictures along my walk.
"Damn lack of a working camera phone!"
Now, let me explain. Work provided me with a Blackberry around 2 years ago. The model that they gave me, the 8830, doesn't come standard with a camera. I had to install it myself.
BB Camera: can't work out if the hardware or the software is the problem...
I walked under I-95, it was 3:10.
"Is this really such a good idea? Do I really want... why do I keep seeing those 4 door Porsches (sedans) everywhere lately?" that was the first, but certainly not last, time that I would start thinking about something and then get distracted by something shiny, distinctive smelling or just plain cool.
I passed PF Changs and looked at my watch. 3:13.
"I'm making good time!" was my cheerful realization. I've walked this route before when Liz was having regular appointments at the chiropractor after her car accident last year.
My route continued past the mall and I decide to turn after the mall and head for Bedford Street. I like Bedford Street: it has a few restaurants on it and it has some life to it. It will also then be a straight shot most of the way home. I get about 50 yards away from the intersection with Bedford and the bus that I would have caught at 3:15 is going through the intersection. It feels like a defining moment for me: that bus was the last realistic alternative to walking the rest of the way home. I turned the corner, it's 3:20. The bus is further up the road, stopped at a traffic light. Some people might consider that a taunt, but I'm still determined to see this challenge through.
The first of the restaurant smells hit my nose. The "restaurant" was McDonalds. The smell though is short-lived, as I pass McDonalds and hit Remo's. Remo's is a brick oven pizza restaurant, so the smell is immensely better now that I've walked a dozen steps forward. I keep going, and within about 20 yards I get the next smell.
"Mmmmm... Lucky's...." Lucky's Classic Burger and Malt Shop smells awesome, and the smell lasts from well before the front door to well past it.
I passed a small park, looking at a sculpture of a girl sitting on a bench. "Is she holding a mirror or a lollypop? She's pretty young, it must be a big ass lollypop. Wait, now that I am closer, she's holding lipstick in the other hand. That girl is way to young looking for lipstick."
I passed the church, and behind me I heard the unmistakeable burble of a boxer engine. I turned my head slightly and saw a 2005 WRX driving past me. Black, not too dark tinted windows, tasteful wheels, no rear spoiler. It's a nice car. Then, as I watch it, it passes a parked USPS truck!!!! Jackpot! 2 nice vehicles in as many seconds.
I've never walked down this side of the road before, and it brings me closer to the cop shop (police station) than I remember being. I start to notice a pattern amongst the cruisers parked out the front. "Hehe - car 25 is parked next to car 24. Then they're pulling 23 in too." Then there's an empty spot. "It's labelled 22... well, I guess that makes sense..." The pattern continues until I reach the end of the line, which ended a few cars later. Then it was a big jump, all the way down to 10. "What?!?!" The sudden drop in numbers blew my mind. It wasn't an ordinary cruiser either - it was one of the more stealthy, unmarked cars. The funny thing about their unmarked cars is that they still have Stamford Police stickers on them, they're just the same color as the car. "I wonder why the guy parked in such an obviously wrong spot in the numbered series?" I concentrated for a second, because I had to cross the road. I turned my head, and then I saw it. "Wait - is the unmarked car in an unmarked spot? Well played, Stamford Police."
So by now it's about 3:26 or so, and I'm passing a church. They have a sign up saying that they have a free Good Friday concert at 8PM. "I wonder if Faith + 1 is playing!" For the next few minutes I have this is my head:
My walk got boring for a few minutes, and I know what you're thinking: "Got boring? Why am I even reading this?" My attention was snapped back into focus by a flashing light. It was the type you would see on the top of an old police car, like at the start of a Naked Gun movie. It was mounted to the top of a non-descript trademan style van. "Contractor... I wonder if that's a mafia van? What? Why would that be a mafia van? And why would a mafia van want to draw attention to itself?" For the next few seconds I chuckle at my own brain's stupidity.
I reached the Ridgeway, which is a shopping center. I went to cross the road, and noticed the striped crossing under my feet. Out of nowhere, a Family Guy moment struck me. For the next minute or so, as I started up the hill, my brain kept going "Left foot, right foot" in Chris Griffin's voice.
My brain often has arguments with itself, where one part of it seems to be me, and the other part deems it necessary to refer to me in the third person.
"Hills? I didn't sign up for this!"
"Don't worry, Russell. Wherever you have an uphill like this, you have downhills as well. It's like you tell yourself on hikes!"
"Yeah, but brain, hikes are round trips, I'm only walking home one way!"
"You mean those hills just before home are all going to be uphill with no accompanying downhill?"
I hit the top of the small rise and realized that the gas station/mechanic at the bottom of the hill often has a USPS truck parked there. It seems to placate both sides of my arguing brain and I walk quickly down the hill. I'm rewarded by catching a glimpse of the parked USPS truck. I look up the rise I'm starting to climb, and I spot a current model Subaru Outback waiting up ahead at a T-intersection.
"I like the Outback, but I really didn't think I would. The first Legacy I saw, it just did nothing for me. But now I like them, and I think I like the Outback even more. Hey, an old Outback just passed me. Yeah, I like the new Outback much more. Hey, look, a HomeGoods. I wonder if I could get an Outback at a price that makes me HomeGoods happy" again I find myself laughing at myself, this time at my cleverness instead. "I've been walking for too long!"
Then I catch another whiff on the air. It smells like asian food, but not particularly good asian food. "But why am I smelling it outside an American style diner? Oh, I'm downwind from Chili Chicken. Whose idea was it to do an Indian-inspired Asian restaurant? Or is it Asian-inspired Indian? I can't remember..."
Now was the time to focus: I had to make a decision. I could veer right, and take the less busy street, Oaklawn, home, or I could stay on the main road. The path naturally veered right, so I kept walking up towards Oaklawn. It has sidewalks I had never walked on: I figure I may as well get some use out of the hassles the roadwork caused while they were putting the sidewalks in... I look up while I'm on the small street, because I've seen a Red-Tailed Hawk around here on more than one occasion. No sign of it today, though.
I started down Oaklawn, and then I saw another one. Another USPS truck. This one was being driven though. The driver must have caught me looking, because he waved to me. He may have also waved because he was pulling over right where I had just walked.
At the driver's wave, a new thought starts: "You know, the people at the post office are very hit and miss; sometimes they're nice, sometimes they're just plain rude and make it seem like you being there is the biggest inconvenience in the world for them. But the guys out delivering the mail? I've never met one that wasn't a nice person. Granted, we've only had a few mail people since I moved here, but each of them that I have met has been nice. These guys are out 6 days a week, in all kinds of weather, and they're still really nice. Maybe it's because they're free, and they spend so much time outside. But winter would suck... the only constant is the truck. USPS delivery staff are nice because they get to spend so much time in those awesome trucks."
It was an epiphany.
I got to Pepper Ridge Road, and I looked at my watch for the first time in a long time. It was 3:52. "Wow! I'm going to break an hour! I'm only going to get home a few minutes later than I would have if I had caught the 3:30 bus and had minimal walk! This is awesome!!! I really need to pee! And what is that awful manure-like smell?!"
The good thoughts, desire to pee and desire to escape the smell start to propel me up the hill. About half way up my legs started to burn. I'm showing winter fitness levels right now... I looked up and saw 2 planes flying across the sky, then two other forms circling one another.
"Red-Taileds!"
I could tell they were hawks because they were flying flatter than vultures, and they weren't wobbling. Seeing the raptors buoyed my spirits and I reached the turn to our street and powered along. I checked the mail, walked up the back stairs and plonked my bag down on the deck to get my keys out.
At 3:02 I had been standing in the lobby of the office. Now, at 3:58, I was standing on the back deck. If you do the math, that's 56 minutes to walk 3.7 miles/5.92 kilometres. In winter shape I'll take that.
It might have taken me a couple of minutes longer to get home, but it gave me time to think. It also made me realize: perhaps I don't want time to think - sometimes, it gets weird.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
BLT Day
The story of my day today actually starts on Wednesday. I sat at my desk Wednesday morning, and tore off Tuesday's page on the "Bacon Love" calendar. It revealed the following new and interesting information:
"National BLT month? Is this for real?" was my thought. I checked a couple of places on the net and found confirmation. I posted the following to Facebook, and started thinking about a BLT.
I spoke to Liz about it in the car on the way home, she gave me an idea, and it was decided. While Liz went out today, I would make it BLT day.
So this morning we woke up, Liz got ready and left, and I pondered what was ahead of me. Mmm... the BLT. I wasn't ready to start making food yet, so I turned on the TV and sat on the couch. Avatar The Last Airbender was on, "Hehe - good start to the morning" I thought. Then things got better. I stood up to go get a drink, and as I walked back into the living room I saw it. It sat across our driveway in all it's beauty and resplendent glory.
I had to take a picture, because words can't describe how awesome USPS trucks are. All the omens were pointing to the day being a good one, so I finished the Avatar episode and got to preparations. The first thing I was going to need was bread. No point in making a sandwich without something to sandwich the fillings between. So, I got to work on the bread first. I took a two bowl approach, wet ingredients in one bowl, dry ingredients in another.
I mixed them together, threw them in the bread machine and pressed the start button. OK, 3 hours and 15 minutes and I'll have a loaf of bread. The laptop has been acting up lately, so I grabbed it and started the work to back it up and reinstall Windows. I wanted some background noise while I was doing it though, so I turned the TV back on. What's this? Spike is running the original Star Wars trilogy all day? And Empire recently started? The good things kept adding up, so I sat there reciting the dialogue and kicking off the Windows install. Fast forward 3 hours, and Empire had become Jedi, and the beep from the kitchen signaled that we have a loaf of bread!
I let it cool for an hour or so, then sliced it and got to work on the rest of the BLT. I'm not eating bread sandwiches here!
There's a glamour shot of the bread half sliced. Time to work on the B: it's bacon time! I took out the bacon, a new pack, and decided that my earlier decision of 4 strips should do it. I laid them out in the cast iron, snapping a photo before putting the bacon press on them and cooking them up.
While the bacon was cooking I got to work on the L. Lettuce is boring, so I'm not going to go into detail on how I washed it and, well, that's all. Time to make sure that the T is coming along. Here's the twist in the BLT tale. I don't like tomato. Sure, I'll eat it in chili, or pasta sauce, or ketchup, or well, you get the idea, I'll eat tomato when it is in something. But the thought of a slice of tomato sitting on a sandwich, contaminating it and soaking the bread with its wetness disgusts me. That's where Liz' suggestion from the other day came back. We'd been talking about other T foods. So I added one of those:
TACO! That's right: this BLT is a Bacon, Lettuce and Taco Sandwich. Time to start assembly!
The taco went first, I wanted the BLT in order from the top. Then I threw on the lettuce. Bacon should be done by now!
Oh yeah, look at that! Time to add the B to the LT.
and let's take a lower, more cross section-like view:
I had toasted the bread, so I didn't want it to be too dry. Normally mayo would go on a BLT, but regular mayo just wasn't going to cut it. So I took a page from the book of Erin: I subbed the mayo for chipotle bbq mayo.
Now all that is left to do for this BLT is to put that top slice where it belongs. I threw some roughly cut sweet potato fries on the side and food's done!
And there you have it. The culmination of BLT Day. But how did it taste? Really good. The taco wasn't as overpowering as I thought it would be, the hint of chipotle bbq mayo helped add a little to it, and you could taste the bacon throughout.
Now the dishes are done, the laptop's been fixed and I'm sitting, reminiscing about the wonders of BLT Day. A pleasing thought just occurred to me: the weekend isn't over, and there's still bacon in the fridge...
"National BLT month? Is this for real?" was my thought. I checked a couple of places on the net and found confirmation. I posted the following to Facebook, and started thinking about a BLT.
I spoke to Liz about it in the car on the way home, she gave me an idea, and it was decided. While Liz went out today, I would make it BLT day.
So this morning we woke up, Liz got ready and left, and I pondered what was ahead of me. Mmm... the BLT. I wasn't ready to start making food yet, so I turned on the TV and sat on the couch. Avatar The Last Airbender was on, "Hehe - good start to the morning" I thought. Then things got better. I stood up to go get a drink, and as I walked back into the living room I saw it. It sat across our driveway in all it's beauty and resplendent glory.
I had to take a picture, because words can't describe how awesome USPS trucks are. All the omens were pointing to the day being a good one, so I finished the Avatar episode and got to preparations. The first thing I was going to need was bread. No point in making a sandwich without something to sandwich the fillings between. So, I got to work on the bread first. I took a two bowl approach, wet ingredients in one bowl, dry ingredients in another.
I mixed them together, threw them in the bread machine and pressed the start button. OK, 3 hours and 15 minutes and I'll have a loaf of bread. The laptop has been acting up lately, so I grabbed it and started the work to back it up and reinstall Windows. I wanted some background noise while I was doing it though, so I turned the TV back on. What's this? Spike is running the original Star Wars trilogy all day? And Empire recently started? The good things kept adding up, so I sat there reciting the dialogue and kicking off the Windows install. Fast forward 3 hours, and Empire had become Jedi, and the beep from the kitchen signaled that we have a loaf of bread!
I let it cool for an hour or so, then sliced it and got to work on the rest of the BLT. I'm not eating bread sandwiches here!
There's a glamour shot of the bread half sliced. Time to work on the B: it's bacon time! I took out the bacon, a new pack, and decided that my earlier decision of 4 strips should do it. I laid them out in the cast iron, snapping a photo before putting the bacon press on them and cooking them up.
While the bacon was cooking I got to work on the L. Lettuce is boring, so I'm not going to go into detail on how I washed it and, well, that's all. Time to make sure that the T is coming along. Here's the twist in the BLT tale. I don't like tomato. Sure, I'll eat it in chili, or pasta sauce, or ketchup, or well, you get the idea, I'll eat tomato when it is in something. But the thought of a slice of tomato sitting on a sandwich, contaminating it and soaking the bread with its wetness disgusts me. That's where Liz' suggestion from the other day came back. We'd been talking about other T foods. So I added one of those:
TACO! That's right: this BLT is a Bacon, Lettuce and Taco Sandwich. Time to start assembly!
The taco went first, I wanted the BLT in order from the top. Then I threw on the lettuce. Bacon should be done by now!
Oh yeah, look at that! Time to add the B to the LT.
and let's take a lower, more cross section-like view:
I had toasted the bread, so I didn't want it to be too dry. Normally mayo would go on a BLT, but regular mayo just wasn't going to cut it. So I took a page from the book of Erin: I subbed the mayo for chipotle bbq mayo.
Now all that is left to do for this BLT is to put that top slice where it belongs. I threw some roughly cut sweet potato fries on the side and food's done!
But I wasn't quite done yet: you can't have a meal this good without some liquid deliciousness to accompany it. Cream Soda will do the trick!
Now the dishes are done, the laptop's been fixed and I'm sitting, reminiscing about the wonders of BLT Day. A pleasing thought just occurred to me: the weekend isn't over, and there's still bacon in the fridge...
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I'm on to you, McDonalds!
I always hoped that someone would read my blog, but never would I have thought that Ronald McDonald or his cronies would be the ones reading it. I bet it was Grimace!
In a move that reminds me of McDowell's attempts to steal McDonald's ideas and procedures, the golden arches look to be borrowing the ideas of baconisgreat. Behold, this advertisement:
And then from their website:
Yep, McDonald's now has a Chipotle BBQ Bacon burger. Sound at all familiar? Differences are minimal, but just enough so that the idea can look slightly original. The size of the meat is different and they added some cheese and pickles, which most people would throw away anyway, in place of the pineapple.
I, of course, am going to be the bigger man. I'm not going to be furious with McDonalds; after all, they're bringing bacon and chipotle to the masses. It just seems very convenient that this slightly tweaked burger should turn up on the McDonald's menu a few months after I write about it. Plus, this is all very tongue in cheek anyway.
In the end, the joke's on them, though. According to this review, the burger kinda sucks. Mediocre was the term used.
Mine?
It f'ing ROCKS.
Go to http://www.grubgrade.com/tag/bbq-bacon-third-pounder-mcdonalds/, where you can read their entire review and see photos of the burger, which doesn't look anything like McDonald's depiction. I didn't tell them I was taking the picture for my own use. Oh well.
In a move that reminds me of McDowell's attempts to steal McDonald's ideas and procedures, the golden arches look to be borrowing the ideas of baconisgreat. Behold, this advertisement:
And then from their website:
Yep, McDonald's now has a Chipotle BBQ Bacon burger. Sound at all familiar? Differences are minimal, but just enough so that the idea can look slightly original. The size of the meat is different and they added some cheese and pickles, which most people would throw away anyway, in place of the pineapple.
I, of course, am going to be the bigger man. I'm not going to be furious with McDonalds; after all, they're bringing bacon and chipotle to the masses. It just seems very convenient that this slightly tweaked burger should turn up on the McDonald's menu a few months after I write about it. Plus, this is all very tongue in cheek anyway.
In the end, the joke's on them, though. According to this review, the burger kinda sucks. Mediocre was the term used.
Mine?
It f'ing ROCKS.
Go to http://www.grubgrade.com/tag/bbq-bacon-third-pounder-mcdonalds/, where you can read their entire review and see photos of the burger, which doesn't look anything like McDonald's depiction. I didn't tell them I was taking the picture for my own use. Oh well.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Mirror, Mirror, now on the wall
A South American, an Englishman, an American and an Australian are in a car. It sounds like the start of a bad joke, but it's actually my Saturday.
Yesterday started off differently to most Saturdays with the sound of the alarm. Normally we don't set an alarm on the weekends, but yesterday we had to get the car to Toyota before 9 so that it could get serviced. I got up, threw on some clothes and walked out the door. Luckily I dressed warmly, because Liz checked the temperature after I left, and it was -2. Fahrenheit. That's just shy of -19 celsius. There was no breeze though, which helped.
I got almost all the way to Toyota when I saw their courtesy van being driven away from the dealer. I hoped he wasn't going too far so that I wouldn't have to wait too long at the dealer before getting a ride home. 10 minutes later the car was all checked in and I was sitting waiting for a ride. I only had to wait about 10 more minutes and the guy was back. I got into the van, along with another customer getting a ride and waited for the driver. He turned up a minute later with another passenger, a British gentleman. So, there we were: a South American, an Englishman, an American and an Australian are in a car.
The other 2 were headed back to Greenwich, while we are about 10 minutes from the dealer in Stamford. The driver decided he would drop them off first, so we started toward Greenwich, me knowing that I was now 30 minutes off getting home. He dropped the Englishman off without incident, and the American girl soon followed. Turning onto a main road, he turned and said to me "I'll head for High Ridge Road." By turned to me, I mean he completely swivelled 135 degrees while driving to tell me which way he was going to go. He's a friendly guy, and likes to make eye contact when he talks to people, I guess.
Then the incident happened. We were sitting at an intersection with some cars in front of us. The cabin started to smell strange. I figured he wasn't using recirculated air, so some exhaust was making it into the cabin. A few seconds later, though, and the smell became more familiar. It was the smell of rotten eggs, and it was getting worse. 15 seconds dragged out, and the driver looked down, muttered something I couldn't hear, and proceeded to wind down his window. I can't remember the last time I was exposed to a rotten egg fart.
He made it to the road he told me he was heading to before swivelling around again to check where to turn. He's a funny guy - he's dropped us off several times, but never quite seems to remember who we are. As soon as he saw the house, though, he hit his head and said "Now I remember!" I came inside and told Liz about the rotten egg fart, because, as I said to her, "When someone does something like a rotten egg fart, I feel obligated to let other people know about it."
The rest of the day was actually productive - being stuck without a car and being too cold to walk anywhere, we got things done around here. We moved in about 20 months ago, and for the entire time we've had a mirror that goes with the set of drawers sitting in our room, leaning against a wall. We finally got around to hanging that. That meant we could tidy up around where the mirror had been sitting, which lead to a tidy up of the entire loft area. It's amazing, with the hanging of a mirror and a quick clean up, the room up there feels so much more homey.
We eventually got a call that the car was almost ready and that they would be sending the driver in 30 minutes. 90 minutes later the driver still hadn't come, so I called Toyota. I guess they hadn't sent him, because he was here 10 minutes later... he took us back to the dealer, and told me that next time he drops us off he'll take us first so that we don't need to wait in the car the whole time. But he didn't make any promises about rotten egg farts.
Yesterday started off differently to most Saturdays with the sound of the alarm. Normally we don't set an alarm on the weekends, but yesterday we had to get the car to Toyota before 9 so that it could get serviced. I got up, threw on some clothes and walked out the door. Luckily I dressed warmly, because Liz checked the temperature after I left, and it was -2. Fahrenheit. That's just shy of -19 celsius. There was no breeze though, which helped.
I got almost all the way to Toyota when I saw their courtesy van being driven away from the dealer. I hoped he wasn't going too far so that I wouldn't have to wait too long at the dealer before getting a ride home. 10 minutes later the car was all checked in and I was sitting waiting for a ride. I only had to wait about 10 more minutes and the guy was back. I got into the van, along with another customer getting a ride and waited for the driver. He turned up a minute later with another passenger, a British gentleman. So, there we were: a South American, an Englishman, an American and an Australian are in a car.
The other 2 were headed back to Greenwich, while we are about 10 minutes from the dealer in Stamford. The driver decided he would drop them off first, so we started toward Greenwich, me knowing that I was now 30 minutes off getting home. He dropped the Englishman off without incident, and the American girl soon followed. Turning onto a main road, he turned and said to me "I'll head for High Ridge Road." By turned to me, I mean he completely swivelled 135 degrees while driving to tell me which way he was going to go. He's a friendly guy, and likes to make eye contact when he talks to people, I guess.
Then the incident happened. We were sitting at an intersection with some cars in front of us. The cabin started to smell strange. I figured he wasn't using recirculated air, so some exhaust was making it into the cabin. A few seconds later, though, and the smell became more familiar. It was the smell of rotten eggs, and it was getting worse. 15 seconds dragged out, and the driver looked down, muttered something I couldn't hear, and proceeded to wind down his window. I can't remember the last time I was exposed to a rotten egg fart.
He made it to the road he told me he was heading to before swivelling around again to check where to turn. He's a funny guy - he's dropped us off several times, but never quite seems to remember who we are. As soon as he saw the house, though, he hit his head and said "Now I remember!" I came inside and told Liz about the rotten egg fart, because, as I said to her, "When someone does something like a rotten egg fart, I feel obligated to let other people know about it."
The rest of the day was actually productive - being stuck without a car and being too cold to walk anywhere, we got things done around here. We moved in about 20 months ago, and for the entire time we've had a mirror that goes with the set of drawers sitting in our room, leaning against a wall. We finally got around to hanging that. That meant we could tidy up around where the mirror had been sitting, which lead to a tidy up of the entire loft area. It's amazing, with the hanging of a mirror and a quick clean up, the room up there feels so much more homey.
We eventually got a call that the car was almost ready and that they would be sending the driver in 30 minutes. 90 minutes later the driver still hadn't come, so I called Toyota. I guess they hadn't sent him, because he was here 10 minutes later... he took us back to the dealer, and told me that next time he drops us off he'll take us first so that we don't need to wait in the car the whole time. But he didn't make any promises about rotten egg farts.
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