The Domestic Me – The Institute For Teach Cook: Episode Three – Coffee, Anyone?

Coffee.

Coffee is just about the most ubiquitous liquid currently found in the solar system. I used to think that it was the Pacific Ocean, however, I now know that sea water runs a semi-distant second to coffee. It’s everywhere. That’s because it reproduces itself.

And almost everybody drinks it. You (very nearly) cannot visit a friend, neighbor, lawyer or hated enemy without hearing the words, “Would you care for a cup of coffee?” immediately after hearing the words, “Have a seat and take a load off.” (In the case of the lawyer, the script changes somewhat to “Please sign here. Have a seat and take a load off. Please sign this disclaimer. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”)

Coffee takes on an almost uncountable number of forms. It mixes with almost anything you can fit into your cup, whether it be liquid, solid or gas. Anything. (There is some question as to whether Metamucil is compatible with coffee, but I have yet to determine that with one hundred percent confidence.)

Aside from being unable to avoid the immediate availability of coffee in stores of all types, restaurants, cruise ships, airplanes, motorhomes, law offices, medical facilities, churches, sewage treatment plants, schools, gas stations, theatres, business offices, cemeteries, prisons, public restrooms and even a small number of public libraries, most people have at least two or three coffee pots in their homes. 

Judy and I are no different. We have always had them in our home. I think we currently have two, but I’m not certain that there aren’t more in storage somewhere on the homestead. We even have a reasonably equipped  “coffee station”:

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We keep the actual coffee in the refrigerator.

We also have a wide variety of coffee cups, mugs and Thermoses to make it easier to consume it, and paper towels with which to clean it up when there is an accident.

Where coffee is concerned, we are just like any other household with one minor exception.

Judy and I don’t actually drink coffee. 

Yes, you read that right. Judy and I are not coffee drinkers. What’s worse is that we don’t even know how to make coffee – seriously.

So why do we have all of this stuff? 

Well, we have offspring who visit on occasion, and seventy-five percent of them do drink coffee. (The other twenty-five percent settle for beer.) They all know how to use it and, being accommodating parents, we keep it around for them.

Until last night…

I read, last night, that Gary Larson (creator of “The Far Side” and my American literary hero) was once asked how he came up with ideas for his cartoon. His answer was the he would down a few cups of coffee before starting to work on a cartoon. 

This gave me an idea – I got up and headed to the “coffee center” in the kitchen. While on my way, I called for Judy and asked her to show me how to make coffee. 

It was only then that I found out that she didn’t know how to make coffee, either. We cooperated and worked on the problem together for about twenty minutes – she reading instructions, and me putting them into action. 

Then this ensued…

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I tested a fifty gallon drum of my first brew of coffee.

At about 2:30 this morning, it dawned on me that I probably should have done this a lot earlier in the day…

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*** If you would like to find out about some of the many different makes and models of coffee, as well as a few of the most popular additive combinations, you can click here to go to Wikipedia and marvel at (what I am certain is a small portion of) the multitudinous array of caffeine sleep inhibitors available on the Earth today.  

Conversations With Judy – Episode 17: In Gratitude…

Bill: “Thank you for making pancakes this morning.”

Judy: “You’re welcome. They are waffles. Thank you for liking them.”

Bill:  “You’re welcome. I should have recognized the little square indentations. Thank you for thanking me for liking them.”

Judy:  “You’re welcome. And thank you for feeding Jamie, by the way. “

Bill:  “You’re welcome. I know you don’t like handling bugs. Thank you for telling Billy that we would “lizard sit” while they were away. A year ago.”

Judy:  “You’re welcome. Thank you for agreeing to do that. It was nice of you.”

Bill:  “You’re welcome, It was, rather, wasn’t it? It is sweet of you to say. Thank you.” 

Judy:  “You’re welcome. Yes it was, and thank you for saying that.”

Bill:  “You’re welcome. I always like to acknowledge that I did something nice. Thank you.”

Judy:  “You’re welcome. Actually, I was thanking you for saying that it was sweet of me to say that it was nice of you.” 

Bill:  “Oh! I’m sorry. I misunderstood. You’re welcome. Thank you for clearing that up.”

Judy:  You’re welcome. Thank you for understanding.”

Bill:  “You’re welcome. Thank you for being understandable.”

Judy:  “You’re welcome. Can we stop this, now?”

Bill:  “Yes, if we must.”

Judy:  “Thank you.”

Bill:  “You’re welcome.”

 

 

 

The linguist Me: Phaze 2: How To Speak French: Lesson One

Hello, Again, Gentle Reader(s),

This is the one. This is it. Finally, after all of these years, this is the post that is going to make me FAMOUS.

 

Oh! combien de temps j'ai attendu ce moment!

.

And it’s also going to help all of you to become more “continental” and refined and good at talking French. 

Yes, I am going to teach you all how to parle Francais! In French, even! And in three French Dialects! When I’m done with you, you will be able to travel almost anywhere where French is the spoken language and be able to order a hamburger or a wind up toy train!

Here’s how it’s going to work: 

First, I will display a photo which contains an object labeled in English, followed by the French translation of the English.

Next, you will click on the audio file and listen carefully to the pronunciation (which I remember entirely from Mr. Twohy’s French class in my sophomore year at St. Bonaventure High School in 1966 – 67).

Next, you can listen to the subsequent audio files to get the Southern France and French-Canadian dialects, if you so wish.

Shall we get started?

Regular French

Southern French

French-Canadian

 2.

Regular French

Southern French

French-Canadian

     3.

Regular French

Southern French

French-Canadian

Well, students, our time is up for this week. 

See you next time! And until then, 

 

 

 

Another Successful Shopping Season For Santa Bill

Christmas shopping done!!!

Yes, once again, I have completed my Christmas shopping weeks before the blessed event takes place!

Message to giftees:

  • There are 15 people on my shopping list
  • There are 19 gifts bought and paid for
  • Each of you recipients pick one, in order of how much you love me, most to least
  • I get the leftovers

AND…

… I saved enough money to buy that boat I’ve had my eyes on!

Merry Christmas!

I Was Right, Today

I was right, today.

I don’t know how it happened, but it did and I don’t really know how to handle it because it’s never happened before. 

I think I’ll just bask in the afterglow of my rightness for awhile.

Judy says that’s OK because she is leaving for work now, but that I should be done before she gets home tonight. 

 

 

Guitar Storage Evolution

Hello, Gentle Reader(s?),

One of the things that every guitar owner must take into consideration when he or she makes an investment into a new instrument is – “Where am I going to keep this thing?”

This is not as easy a question to answer as one might think. Especially if you have a wife in the house. You can’t just make room for it on her side of the bed and expect her to be OK with it (wives can be funny that way). And you also can’t just pop it into the refrigerator and hope she doesn’t notice.  

No, you have to be more imaginative than that. 

Fortunately, you have me to show you how to be more imaginative than that…

After you have decided to display the instrument (assuming you are going to display it, that is – but what good is it to have such a fine piece of art unless you are going to make it visible to anybody who walks into the room – or even into the immediate neighborhood?), one of the first considerations to, well, consider, is the dignity with which the instrument is displayed.

Here are some things to think about NOT doing:

  1. Never, under any circumstances, keep your guitar sitting on the back of the toilet. This is not a dignified storage method. You can keep it in a closet, just not a water closet.
  2. Refrain, if at all possible, from keeping it on top of your wife’s grand piano. While this is certainly a more dignified and public place to display the instrument, the resulting marks on the piano may lead to some animated discussion between spouses. 
  3. Don’t just leave it in a case somewhere. To do so completely negates the real reason for the acquisition in the first place – people will not think you are cool and groovy if they don’t see your guitar out in plane sight. That’s because they won’t know you have it. (Yes, it’s true. You don’t have to know how to play the instrument as long as company sees it and THINKS you can play it.)

Now, The best way I can think of to demonstrate the proper method(s) of displaying your guitar or collection of guitars is to show you what I have done over the years.

First attempt:

The Guitar Love Seat

Nice try, but brilliant failure.
While this presentation looks nice, and even comfortable, it was not a permanent solution. The issue was that I either had to 1) take them down when company came (removing the “You play the guitar? You are soo cool and groovy!” display factor) or 2) try to squeeze everybody onto the piano bench to visit.

Second Attempt:

The Original Guitar Wall:

This, actually, worked pretty well for awhile. The only real issue was the sparse population as evidenced by all of the extra space on either end of the line of instruments.

Third attempt:

The Guitar Wall – Fuller, Cooler and Groovier

While this rendition of the wall was certainly cooler and groovier, it still lacked a couple instruments because there wasn’t enough room to hang all of the available instruments… Of course, there was room on the adjacent wall for the snake, so it wasn’t all bad.*

Third attempt, part B:

The Guitar Wall and Floor

Even though they wouldn’t all fit on the wall, a small investment in guitar stands enabled the inclusion of two more instruments. I had completed the display of coolness and groovyness…

Third attempt, part C:

The Charred Guitar Wall

Unfortunately, Third attempt, part B didn’t endure the fire…

Third attempt, part C (cont’d):

The Empty Guitar Wall

This isn’t as cool and groovy as it was when there was an actual room around the wall and actual guitars available. But it DID lead to…

Fourth attempt:

The Guitar Driveway

Sadly, none of these instruments survived the fire. The firefighters, though, laid what was left alongside the driveway in a rather respectful manner…

Fifth attempt:

The First Replacement Guitar Wall

14 months later, most of the instruments had been replaced, the house had been replaced and the Guitar Wall had been replaced… All was good. For about five years…

Sixth attempt:

The Guitar Closet

When you move, you have to make adjustments…

Seventh attempt, fourteen months later (last week):

The Second Replacement Guitar Wall

When you have a guitar closet, it’s not cool or groovy because nobody can see the instruments. Especially you. When you can’t see the instruments, you don’t play them. When you don’t play them, you get rusty and your caps (calluses) go away. And when you pick one up, your fingers hurt. They might even bleed. You can’t leave the instruments in the closet…

Seventh attempt, part B:

The Guitar Wall and Floor

When you don’t have enough wall space, you go back to the floor…

*On a sad note, Monty (pet snake) did not survive the fire, either. I had hoped for a long and happy life for him and used to joke that I would turn him into a guitar strap when he passed. However, I couldn’t bring myself to do that when we found him and we buried him under a tree (see “Guitar Driveway” above), next to the driveway. Rest well, Monty. I really do miss you… 

Montgomery Pyth

Conversations With Judy – Episode 16: More Pillow Talk

I have been married to Judy for a little over forty-six years.  That’s 16,844.5 days. Rounded up from 23 hours and 56 minutes per day, that’s approximately 404,268 minutes. 24,256,080 seconds, give or take. (I would keep going but my calculator won’t allow me to compute nanoseconds.)

In all of that time, I may have heard Judy utter anything that resembles any sort of naughty word once. I say “may” because I must have done something to elicit some sort of swear word somewhere along the way…

It was another dark and snoozy night...

Tuesday, September 5, 2017, 3:30 AM

One hour ago, I was deeply asleep, dreaming about my new Ryobi model RY08420A Backpack Leaf Blower with the large 2 cycle, 42cc engine for excellent clearing power, with a unique air-flow orientation and angled air nozzles, a variable speed throttle and a cruise control setting to make quick work of the toughest of clearing jobs;  and with the shoulder and back harness designed for ultimate comfort, that features a contoured back and easy strap adjustments; when I was awakened by the sounds of 1) Murphy (the dog) panting and whining and 2) Judy saying…

Judy: “Bill, do something about the damn dog!”

Bill (Me – suddenly and unexpectedly waking up): “Huh? What?”

J: “Do something about the damn dog! He got me up at 3:15 and I fed him and gave him some water and he won’t shut up!”

B (M): “Do you kiss your husband with that mouth?”

J: “Not if he doesn’t do something about the damn dog!”

 

 

Conversations With Judy – Call It Episode 13: Free Spirited Artist

Driving home from Oakhurst after Mass…

Judy: “We could rent a motorhome to go to Utah. I’m kind of afraid to go to Utah, though.”

Bill (Me): “Why? Are you afraid you might want to move there?”

J: “No. I’m afraid to come home and get a call that Dean had a heart attack in Hawaii. Besides, if we moved to Utah, you would have to become Mormon.”

B (M): “Well, what would I have to become if we moved to Arizona?”

J: “You would have to become a ‘Free Spirited Artist’.”

B (M): “I could do that. I could be a ‘Free Spirited Artist’. I could become a Free Spirited Photographic Artist’… I could be a ‘Phartist’!”

Hahaha…

Hahaha…

Hahaha…

Hahaha…

J: “The next time somebody asks me what I have learned being married to you I’m just going to say, “I have learned not to be sipping a soda through a straw while having a conversation with him in the car,” and they will ask “Why shouldn’t you sip soda while having a conversation with Bill?” and I will answer “because I’m afraid of what will come out of his mouth.”

B (M): “No you’re not. You’re afraid that what comes out of my mouth will cause your soda to come out of your nose.”

Judging by what happened next, Judy, apparently, has yet to learn that lesson. 

The Action Me: The Story of Man of Action Breaks World Speed Record In Half Dome Climb – Part .7 – After The Catheter

“I, on the other hand, was just wondering if they could just tear my toenail back ninety degrees and call it a day…”

Or click here to go back to the beginning…

Once the catheter was inserted, things were better. For the nurse. She got to leave for a few minutes. Judy stuck around for a couple of minutes and had to go do something with paperwork, or some such thing.

I was back in the room alone again. It was just me and my catheter…

A couple of minutes later, I heard Steve’s voice outside the door asking if he could come in to see me. The wheels started turning in my head and had finished prior to the time he received permission to enter…

He walked in.

He looked at me.

My eyes were open, glazed over, staring into nothingness. My jaw was slack, my mouth a gaping cavern. I was holding my breath…

“Dad?” “Dad!?” “DAD!!”

“Yes, my son?”

For some reason, he didn’t think that was funny.

Neither did Judy when he told her a moment later. 

Neither did the nurse. 

I, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious. 

Some people have no sense of humor. 

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Click here to go to part 7.1 – the final chapter…

Or click here to go back to the beginning…

The Action Me: The Story of Man of Action Breaks World Speed Record In Half Dome Climb – Part .6 – Picking Up In The Hospital, Again

Let The Hospital Stay Begin…

…July 23, 2011… (Continued from Part .5)

When the sixty year old man had finished his story, the forty-ish balding nurse stood in silence for a few moments, gazing in admiration. Or was he staring at the clock wondering if the tale had finally ended, or if the sixty year old man was just taking a breath (his first in the telling of the saga) and would continue his story?

Who knows?  Whichever the case may be, he made sure the telling was over because he completed his “paperwork” and called for transportation to a treatment room. 

The journey from the “check-in” area to the treatment room was rather boring, so Man of Action started telling his tale, again, to the orderly pushing the gurney. He was interrupted about every fifth word by with word “Si” coming from the orderly. Apparently, the gentleman either didn’t speak English, or he was warned not to let me think he did, by the forty-ish balding nurse. 

So I just shut up for the balance of the trip.

Once in the treatment room, I was left alone for a few minutes to contemplate my situation. Actually, my condition didn’t seem so bad at the moment, in light of what I could see through the crack the door to the hallway…

There was a foot occupying the end of a gurney just outside the door. On the foot was a big toe. On the big toe was a big toe nail. The unfortunate part of that was that the nail was positioned at a ninety degree angle from the toe. 

Warning: This will make you say “owee-ooh-ee-ooh-ooh-oweezowee“. If you are OK with saying “owee-ooh-ee-ooh-ooh-oweezowee” , click here to see a pho-toe of a toe that looks very similar to the one I had to look at for thirty minutes before anybody came in and shut the door all the way.

Fortunately, when someone did come into the room, one of them was Judy. 

Unfortunately, the other one was a young nurse.

Normally, that wouldn’t bother me too much except that she had something  ominous looking with her. She called it a Foley Catheter. 

I knew what a Foley was – it was a guy with the first name of Terry with whom I graduated from high school. I had no problem with that. 

My problem was with the “Catheter” part of the equation. I also knew what that was…

Warning: This will make you say “owee-ooh-ee-ooh-ooh-oweezowee“. If you are OK with saying “owee-ooh-ee-ooh-ooh-oweezowee” , click here to see a photo of what, if you are a guy, at least, you never want to tangle with. 

I couldn’t think of anything to say so I said, “what’s that for? “

She responded, “Well, we have to give you a way to eliminate waste from your body.”

I said, “Oh.”

Then, neither one of us said anything for a minute or so. We just looked at each other. Then I looked at Judy. Judy looked at me. The nurse looked at Judy. Judy looked at the nurse. A doctor came into the room. We all looked at the doctor. The doctor looked at the nurse. The doctor looked at Judy. The doctor looked at me.

The doctor said, “Excuse me. Wrong room,” and left.

I looked at Judy. Judy looked at the nurse. The nurse looked at me.

I looked at the nurse and said, “I don’t suppose that thing goes down my throat while I’m under anesthesia, does it?”

The nurse said, “No.”

I said, “Oh.”

The nurse said, “This is going to hurt a bit.”

I said, “How much is a bit?”

The nurse said, “It has been compared to what a woman feels during childbirth.” She continued, “if you are ready, I’ll start.”

Judy grabbed my hand and said , “Breathe.”

The nurse began the procedure. 

I said, in my most primal screaming voice, “COWABUNGAHHHHHHHHH!!*$#@!”, and turned to Judy, gritted my teeth, looked her straight in the eye and screeched, “YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

Then everybody started laughing. Like it was funny or something…

I, on the other hand, was just wondering if they could just tear my toenail back ninety degrees and call it a day…

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Click here to go to the next installment, part .7

This is part .6. If you would like to catch up, I would suggest starting at part .5. From there you can come back here, or go to Part 1, which is the first of 8 parts relating to the actual trip up Half Dome and back…

 

This Day, July 24, A Day That Will Live In Famy

Infamy  (Noun, Plural infamies)

The state of being known for some bad quality or deed: A day that will live in infamy

  • An evil or wicked act: one of history’s greatest infamies

Today, July 24, a day that will live, not in Infamy, but in Famy (I’m thinking that Famy would be the opposite of Infamy).

That being the case:

Famy (Noun, Plural Famies)

The state of being known for some perfectly excellent quality or deed: A day that will live in famy

  • A good or perfectly excellent act: One of history’s greatest famies 

(No, there is no actual English word, famy. Yes, I made up the definition.) See all the RED underlines?)

So, let’s look at some pretty impressive things that happened on this date, July 24, in history, shall we?

  • 1132 Battle of Nocera between Ranulf II of Alife and Roger II of Sicily 
  • 1411 Battle of Harlaw, one of the bloodiest battles in Scotland, takes place
  • 1487 Citizens of Leeuwarden, Nethernakds, rebel against ban on foreign beer
  • 1534 Jacques Cartier lands in Canada, claims it for France
  • 1567 Mary Queen of Scots is forced to abdicate; her 1-year-old son becomes King James VI of Scots
  • 1577 Spanish army/German mercenaries conquer Namur
  • 1577 Treason of Don Juan in Brussels
  • 1581 States of Holland/Zealand recognized by Wiliam of Orange
  • 1701 Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac founds trading post at Ft Pontchartrain, which later becomes the city of Detroit
  • 1824 Harrisburg Pennsylvanian newspaper publishes results of 1st public opinion poll, with a clear lead for Andrew Jackson
  • 1832 Benjamin Bonneville leads the first wagon train across the Rocky Mountains by Wyoming’s South Pass
  • 1833 HMS Beagle departs Maldonado Uruguay
  • 1847 Rotary-type printing press patents by Richard March Hoe, NYC 
  • 1851 Window tax abolished in Britain
  • 1866 Tennessee becomes 1st Confederate state readmitted to Union
  • 1870 1st trans-US rail service begins
  • 1911 Cleve’s League Park hosts 1st unofficial ML All Star game (benefit game for Addie Joss’ family). Cleveland Naps lose to All Stars 5-3
  • 1911 American explorer Hiram Bingham discovers Machu Picchu, the Lost City of the Incas
  •  1915 Excursion ship Eastland capsizes in Lake Michigan, 852 die
  • 1929 NY to SF foot race ends (2½ months) winner is 60 year old Monteverde
  • 1936 118°F (48°C), Minden, Nebraska (state record)
  • 1941 Red Sox Lefty Grove, 41, wins his 300th game
  • 1949 Indian pitcher Bob Lemon hits 2 HRs to beat Senators, 7-5
  • 1951 Edward Gomes is born
  • 1953 KEYT TV channel 3 in Santa Barbara, CA (ABC) begins broadcasting
  • 1959 500,000th Dutch TV set registered
  • 1961 Beginning of a trend, a US commercial plane is hijacked to Cuba
  • 1961 Roger Maris hits 4 home runs, in a doubleheader
  • 1965 Bob Dylan release “Like a Rolling Stone”
  • 1967 The Beatles sign a petition in Times to legalize marijuana
  • 1968 Hoyt Wilhelm’s 907th breaks Cy Young’s record for pitching appearances
  • 1969 Apollo 11 returns to Earth
  • 1972 Jigme Singye Wangchuk becomes king of Bhutan at 16

There are too many events to list everything, but I think you get the picture. 

There is, however, one event that happened on this date in 1971 which, to my mind anyway, blows past all of these events combined. And it is the one thing that qualifies for the description of “Famy (as defined above). 

July 24, 1971 Judith Joy French becomes Judith Joy Kammerer.

Happy Anniversary to you, my loving, beautiful, amazing, spectacular, awesome, groovy wife…

wedding party

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