More big changes at the Casa de Rurale, and this one involves a new appliance–the countertop dishwasher!
Hello, again, Dear Readers:
Some of you may be shoveling snow, or not. After three hard freezes, two with snow, we’re in spring-like weather here in Central Louisiana, and I’m in shorts.
Some of you may remember my Karma of Spare Parts series, in which I describe buying spare parts online to be able to use what I have. I’m still at it! In addition to meeting the mail ladies many times, I’ve also met several UPS and FedEx drivers who bring packages to the Casa de Rurale, including one smoker who handed me a big package from Vitacost with a cigarette in his mouth. No kidding. I didn’t complain to FedEx, because he was very nice, but I did lecture him a little on the irony of smoking while delivering my package of health products.
More Spare Parts Karma
Just last week I ordered some replacement glass beakers from Sur la Table:
I actually ordered three of these little ones, and one of the 8-cup beakers. The two smaller ones broke on the trip from Houston. To get more of these requires either online ordering or a trip to Baton Rouge (that’s now the closest Sur la Table to me; New Orleans doesn’t have one.) So, I finally ordered the darn things. I have three small pots–two of the Brazil model and one of the Chambord. (The small Chambord was in my desk at work while at Boeing after seeing an executive with an 8-cup model in his office.) The two Brazils went straight into my suitcases, because I like to take them on travel (not that I’m going anywhere anytime soon.)
And, finally, my little Apple Master contraption is now whole and complete again, after however long it was since the rubber vacuum cup broke on the bottom:
BF is going to help me replace the rusted fork soon. He has no idea what this thing is for–and that’s just fine, because then he won’t touch it and hurt himself, either!
Online Ordering From HEB
For my Texas peeps: You probably know about HEB’s new curbside ordering service. Well. . .they also ship. Nearly anywhere in the US, as a matter of fact. Recently, I ordered me some coffee! A bag of decaf Taste of San Antonio and a bag of decaf Breakfast Blend. The next order will include bigger 2 pound bags and a supply of decaf espresso for cappuccino and lattes at home. Even with shipping, it’ll be cheaper than $15 at Starbucks for it (not that I don’t like Starbucks, either.)
Love the new packaging, too. The previous packaging was nice, and had been in use since I started buying their coffee in 1998. I guess it was time for a refresh.
Plus, there’s all those things I can buy with Hatch chiles in them, including salsa. I’m happy that I can get canned Hatch chiles in Winn-Dixie, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s and The Fresh Market. But there will be more online ordering from HEB in the coming months, because there are a lot of things I want that I just can’t get here. In the case of the large bottle of coarse-ground pepper, it’s available and cheaper than the small bottle I can get at Albertson’s in Hammond. I so miss my HEB.
No Toaster Oven Yet
In my online shopping forays, I remember companies that I’ve bought from some time ago and see if I still have an account with them. In the case of Overstock, I actually do. I’ve updated it with my new email and snail mail address, and I get their emails again.
The last time I ordered from them was in 2005, when I ordered a pair of earrings to go with a necklace. This was years before Comfy Earrings were created, and it was for a formal night out. The completed order was still there, with the comment that it is now “past the return window.” I still have the earrings, I’ve worn them once or twice since, but the jewelry is packed up for a wedding that’s in our future (we’ll be guests, not participants.)
I’ve been saving my Bed, Bath And Beyond Coupons for a long time for the day I get a new toaster oven. Upon checking the Overstock website, I discovered that not only do they sell the one I want, they also sell it as a refurbished model.
I can even get one nearly the same as the one I had before I moved, the one that didn’t make the trip well, as a refurbished model. How have I missed this?
So, at some point, soon there will be a new toaster oven, finally, and this time around, it may be the less-expensive refurbished option. I miss my toaster oven so much. Since winter is pretty much done now, it’s time for a new one, especially since BF is complaining that he’s tired of anything slow-cooked.
Presenting The New Dishwasher!
Now, let’s talk about something I bought out of urgent, utter necessity.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you’ve been waiting for. The relocated HeatCageKitchen in the Casa de Rurale now has a counter-top dishwasher:
You’re probably thinking, “that’s a dishwasher?” Yeup. There’s a reason for it, too. Much like the new glasses, I really needed it.
I’ve been really busy, and I don’t anticipate that changing anytime soon. In fact, both of us are. BF works a rotating 40-hour-per-week shift, plus he does some mechanic work for folks. I work on client work in between all that plus dishes, laundry, hound care, cat care and other stuff. Well, the dishes were really piling up, and BF just does *not* do dishes. Without disclosing any TMI, it was getting ridiculous, but he didn’t see a problem. I needed a dishwasher, darnit.
Not For HGTV
You have to understand that this house is an old “mother-in-law house,” literally built to accommodate someone’s elderly mother. Not exactly ergonomically or functionally designed, you understand. But it’s paid for, and BF is proud of that fact, even if there are a number of things that are left to be desired (as well as repaired.) Like a dishwasher!
In the kitchen, there really isn’t a way to install a dishwasher without remodeling the whole kitchen. Neither of us have that kind of money, even to get stuff from IKEA. I’m not spending money to renovate a house that will never belong to me. So. . .we manage. Until we can’t.
I’ve been spending hours trying to catch up on washing dishes by hand at the expense of everything else. I finally got tired of it one night and yelled at BF about it. Just annoyed as the dickens that I’m the one doing all the dishes. Sometimes the clean laundry can been piled up for a while. But then, I got an idea. . . .
Enter The Compact Appliance
When most people think of kitchen appliances, they think of the full-size versions–refrigerators, freezers, dishwashers, laundry appliances, etc. But smaller compact versions? You can get a small fridge, some with freezers, pretty readily. But compact dishwashers? You don’t see them in places like Lowe’s, Home Depot, or even Walmart–but they’re available if you know where to look.
One night I got to thinking. . . what about a counter top dishwasher? Do they exist? I set out to do some research, and it didn’t take long–they’re everywhere! Again, if you know what you want and where to look.
Note that I am not talking about the electric automatic potato peeler BF’s daughter has. I’m talking about important stuff here.
The first place I tend to go for research when I’m considering or looking for something is Amazon. Love them or hate them, they have just about anything you could want. Even if you don’t buy, you can research for free, and read comments by people who have bought these items. I know they’re not all accurate, but you can get an idea of what to expect.
Amazon has a range of dishwasher models, small and regular sized. I didn’t know you could still buy full-sized portable dishwashers that you can roll around. They have some, although they cost more than the countertop model.
Of the models that Amazon had, both the websites for Target and Walmart had many of the same ones with more reviews.
At the bottom of the Target website was a series of those “sponsored links.” One of them was to a site I’d visited many years before and forgot about.
And then there’s this site. I’ve known about them for many years, but never bought from them.
Years ago, I’d planned on buying a very small chest-type freezer for the condo I moved out of in 2016. I went to the Clear Lake location of the chain appliance store, Conn’s, but they didn’t want to talk about anything but “the great financing we can do for you!” That, of course, is how they actually make a profit, I believe. I walked out.
I knew about the freezer, and it was about $100, but they didn’t seem to like the idea that I would either write a check or give them my debit card to pay in full and walk out with it. (It was small enough to easily fit in The Mighty Saturn.) I never got around to going back, and never bought one, despite the thought staying way in the back of my mind.
I really, REALLY don’t like being treated like that, and I generally won’t return to a place that tries to force a financing contract on me. That’s why I never went back to Conn’s.
There was another occasion I was thinking about something else, and I came across Compact Appliance’s website. In addition to compact appliances, they also have full-size appliances like Conn’s and Lowe’s and the like. I should have signed up for their emails, but I didn’t. Well, I finally did.
After looking at Amazon’s website, there were a couple of dishwashers I was going to consider buying, even if I was a bit concerned about the possibility of returning it if it didn’t work.
Not a matter of *if” I bought a dishwasher, you understand, just a matter of *when.* And I let BF know about it. He just gave me that look that says, “I smile because I have no idea what’s going on.” Like the day he looked into the pantry after I’d unpacked all my stuff in there. (It still needs a reorg.) BF says he doesn’t mind about anything I do in the house. Good thing.
His main concern was spending a lot of money on a brand neither of us had ever heard of. I agreed, but three hours of washing dishes by hand was getting to be too much. This solves the problem, and it’s not built-in. And yes, if I ever decide to move back to Texas, I can pack it and take it with me. (He can buy his own!)
I got paid, and I had enough to order one on December 27th. I got a 5% discount for signing up for their emails, and free shipping. Should I have a problem, they’re ready to help–I asked before I bought. I think there were three phone calls before I finally ordered.
I waited for its arrival. Meantime, I bought some of this stuff:
Reading all that I had, everyone said that the gelpacs worked the best. Having used three different types, I have to agree–they dissolve quickly and cleanly, and leave no powdery residue. A couple of times, I’ve put stuff in there that accidentally blocked the little door, and I had to run it again because the powder cakes in the compartment. So gelpacs it is.
Two Days Later
I was sitting at my desk when the FedEx driver rolled up. I had my office mini blinds open, and BF was asleep. And then the dogs started barking (they were inside because it was so cold out.) And then I ran through the house, yelling, “It’s Here! It’s Here!” He took this as his cue to start moving around, put some warm clothes on and get out to the patio to get it into the house.
While he did that, I had a nice chat with the FedEx driver, who is a single mother of 4, lives in nearby Mississippi, and would also like to work from home. I gave her an intro card from SGI-USA, taught her how to chant, and gave her the “elevator pitch.” She was open to the idea, and thanked me for the card. (She also dropped off another Vitacost package a couple of weeks later.)
The Box Opens
Of course, I was so excited to open this box that I didn’t take any pictures. BF started carefully cutting open the taped edges, and removed the machine with equal care to put it on the counter top.
I had to read the manual first, to make sure I didn’t do something wrong. It was pretty simple. Truth is, They put the owner’s manual as a PDF on the website so you can look at it before you buy it. How’s THAT for good customer service?
Oh, dear–mine isn’t on the website right now. However, this is a similar model, and the manual is available there, down the right side. Hmmmm. . .well, anyway. . . .
How It Works
It hooks up to the sink with a couple of little hoses, and a screw-in metal bit that screws into your faucet, once you remove the diffuser:
The plastic you see on the right clips onto the metal. Turn on the water, turn on the machine, and you’re washing dishes!
These are also great for offices and labs, if you didn’t know that. But in a small kitchen, or where you can’t install a dishwasher, it’s awesome.
I would also like to point out that BF graciously replaced the kitchen faucet that’s been problematic for a long time. The hot water leaked so much that in order to use hot water, you had to turn it on under the sink. That problem, thankfully, has now been eliminated. Plus we have one with that little sprayer thingy that’s plumbed separately into the water line, too. Isn’t he sweet? (The bathroom faucet is also due for replacement, but it hasn’t happened yet.)
The little red button on the right is for water. Just push and you get some out. Be careful though, because it’s like a fire hose. And, don’t use it while the machine is filling.
It runs a lot like a laundry washing machine, really, off the water supply. There are some on Amazon who say they can plumb it directly into the water line, but BF’s not going for that, and I don’t mind, either. It’s not been that much trouble to use. We don’t have to unscrew that bit, although we could do that. Works just fine the way we have it.
So What’s It Like To Use?
Well, in a word, AWESOME. But there’s a few caveats I have to tell you about while I explain all this.
Since it’s smaller, it obviously won’t hold as much as a full-sized machine The idea behind the design is service for six, that is, six dinner, salad and dessert plates, drinking glasses, coffee cups (small flat ones) and cutlery. But of course you can wash other stuff in there, too.
Bigger than a microwave oven, it holds quite a lot, but that bowl takes up a lot of room. That’s OK.
You may be wondering why the dishes are wet. That’s another caveat–it doesn’t have a “dry” cycle like the big ones we’re all used to. So what do you do? You can dry them by hand, pull the rack out and let them dry, or unload them into a dish drain or on a draining towel so they dry on their own. I usually just pull the rack out, but if I need to use it again, I just unload them and start the next load. Believe me, it’s OK, too.
When you’re ready, drop in your detergent:
Turn it on:
Then touch the start button:
When you touch the start button, the colon between the numbers blinks, and it starts in ten seconds. I haven’t tried the delay function yet. Or that other one. . .better read the manual again, yes?
The big round knob gives you several cycles to chose from I just like the hour-and-fifteen-minute cycle, but you can chose whichever you like, from the nearly two-hour cycle to the ten minute “rinse them off” cycle.” When the detergent caked on, I picked it all out, moved the obstruction and used the 45 minute cycle for the re-run.
Whenever the cycle finishes, it beeps and the numerical readout goes back to the original time of the cycle. I just turn it off, open it up, pull the rack out, turn off the water, pop the pressure and remove the hookup from the faucet, letting it drain into the sink. The whole cycle only uses about 3.5 gallons of your hot water! And it makes a neat “moaning” sound when the water flows out of it into the sink. I just roll the hoses up behind the dishwasher after they’re drained, I’m done with the washing and that’s it.
The Last Caveat
Obviously this wonderful machine can’t wash as much, or everything that a full-sized one can. Again, that’s OK. Also, I’m not naive enough to think I’ll never hand wash again; far from it. Big pots, cast-iron skillets, and a few other things that can’t be washed in the dishwasher will always have to be hand-washed. I can handle that. But for everyday dishes, coffee cups, flatware and other smaller things, this dishwasher has been a wonderful thing. I’ve spent as long as 3+ hours catching up dishwashing. I hope I don’t have to do that anymore, and so far, I haven’t.
I was so happy to finally get this dishwasher. Is it wrong to love a kitchen appliance? Well, I got this one because it’s much easier to get than the Suzy Homemaker model:
And I think mine holds more, anyway.
I kept talking about my new dishwasher on Facebook, and well, I guess it’s one of those things you look and go, “oh, how nice.” But one gentleman, who I’ve never met in person, ended up buying his own dishwasher right after I bought this one (the same one, too.) He lives in a 900-square-foot “fifth wheel,” an expanded trailer kind of thing. He’s a single guy, lives alone and hates washing dishes. So. . .I made him happy, too. He loves his as much as I love mine. Isn’t Facebook great?
What Else I Learned On Facebook
Well, if you have dogs that do not want to take a bath, there’s a way to make it easier. Get a jar of cheap peanut butter and smear some on the walls of your bathtub or shower stall. Lead them to it, let them have it, and wash while they lick the peanut butter off the wall. Think I’m joking? I’m not, and it works like a charm. It’s how I washed a 65-pound pit bull today, as well as a 25-pound mutt.
BF says it’s “cheating.” I say it works, and nobody’s keeping score, so who cares?
Caveat: if you let the dog lick the utensil, don’t put it back into the jar. If you do, make sure you mark the jar “DOG ONLY.” Or you’ll be eating the dog’s peanut butter. (Because BF couldn’t remember if he did or not.)
The New Addiction
This little detergent scoop comes with the dishwasher, along with some other plastic parts I’m not yet sure about:
I was thinking, “Wow, a little Command Hook right there will keep it where it won’t get lost.” Indeed, it does.
Unfortunately, I’m now addicted to Command Hooks.
There are lots of boards and pins dedicated to organizing your home with these babies, but there aren’t all that many “new ideas.” Most are the same ones recirculated, although I wish I’d known about hanging curtains with the bigger ones a long time ago. However, they’re all quite useful ideas:
I got this idea from one of the articles suggesting putting a measuring cup on a hook on your cereal container (it was oatmeal in a plastic bin.) It works, just like this one that’s also quite useful:
It was the first binder clip I could put my paws on, you understand. And then there’s this:
Now, I actually had a large cup hook there, but it’s just sheetrock. I put it there to cover the old landline phone jack, because, well, we have cell phones, so who cares, right? But the cup hook kept falling out, and the little picture fell a few times, so–Command Hook to the rescue!
This is BF’s oven mitt, which was hanging by a nail, and knocked to the floor many times. Not anymore.
And there are more in the house, including the bathroom. 3M actually makes a specific type to use in the bathroom to withstand the extra humidity.
I’ve also hung up my yoga mat bags on the back of a door, individually, with bigger hooks.
How Did I Miss These?
When I moved to the condo in 2004, I bought a Command Hook to put up a thingy I made to hang extra rolls of bathroom tissue on the back of the door. I put the tape on backwards, but it stayed up, and the hook was there when I left. (I’m sure it’s gone now, but who cares?)
But they were relatively new then, and somewhat expensive. Guess I didn’t pay enough attention over the years, and then life got much more complicated. But now there’s a huge selection of these sticky-tape products, and they can do quite a lot of things, without putting holes in the walls.
So now when we go somewhere (especially if we head up to Hammond), I’m fond of telling BF, “We need some Command Hooks.” He asks, “what kind?” I respond, “I don’t know–I just know we need some.” (We probably need more of the tapes, though.) Alternately, I’ll tell him, “Oh my GOD! I haven’t bought any Command Hooks lately!” He either ignores me or looks at me funny. As usual.
Until Next Time
If you were wondering how the heck you’d get a dishwasher in your kitchen, I hope I gave you an option. I’m loving mine, and I know my Facebook friend RG is loving his, because he tells me. I’m always looking for other options and alternatives, because I know in this world, they do exist. (I can’t answer for other worlds, don’t ask me.) With both the dishwasher and the Command Hooks, it was a matter of “what took you so long?”
Hope I’ve helped someone out today. I’m looking for new stuff all the time, I just don’t always find stuff to write about.
Happy New Year, and Welcome to HeatCageKitchen: Automotive Edition! There’s some delicious barbecue in Central Louisiana, and BF and I were cordially invited to have some.
Happy 2018, Dear Readers:
Welcome to another edition of “What Are These Two Lug Nuts Up To Now?”
No, I promise not to mention you-know-what that me and BF are supposed to be getting in shape for. Haven’t been able to carve out exercise time just yet. Need to do that soon–it’s February! I’d be riding my bike now if I hadn’t hurt my back this week. . .standing up from a seated position. No kidding. It’s getting better now.
So, does your office coffee look like this? Mine does.
I posted that on Facebook the other day, and a former coworker was actually jealous. He worked with me at Boeing and now lives in the Seattle area.
I’ve got a short break in client work, so I thought I should try and finish a blog post. Irony: I know from writing blog posts for digital marketing agencies that in order to get rankings in Google and other search engines, you need to regularly publish useful and relevant content. Yes, I can do that. . .soon. Besides, I’ve already paid for the domain name for another year (It’s not expensive.)
Let’s get started.
Vegan Beef Jerky
You’re probably thinking, “what’s this foolishness?” Like I did when I saw this stuff in Whole Foods recently:
This is not a joke:
If you think that’s healthy. . .no, seriously, it’s not. And it isn’t cheap, either.
For a bunch of soybeans and sugar for people who eat “nothing with a face,” but it’s made to TASTE like something with a face. (Remember last year the “beef-free beef broth” I found in the same Whole Foods?) It’s similar to this product from my favorite snack company Epic, which is also available in Whole Foods, and about the same price with actual MEAT. But this “vegan jerky” has no beef in it. What’s the point of fake-me-out “beef jerky” made with soybeans?
If you’re vegan, why are you going to mess with something that tastes like something you don’t eat? Makes no sense, but, well, supply and demand and all that. Apparently the company makes several types, too. Here’s a picture from their Instagram page via their website that says “Happy Science Fiction Day.” Oh, the IRONY.
I’m still allergic to soy. Just say no and save your money for real food. Yuck.
The Christmas Kittens
Christmas was relatively low-key for us, just like Thanksgiving. We were alone, and we went to visit BF’s daughter, her partner and their son, then to his Dad’s place up the road. BF will have another grandson in March, which we were notified of about October, I think. His Dad was thrilled that we went up to that little room upstairs and cleared out all of BF’s old rubbish, and burned a garbage bag full of old bills from 10 years ago. Mr. C. said it was the best Christmas present ever.
At the kids’ place, someone dumped off two very tiny, helpless kittens a few days earlier. These two millennials were going to leave them to starve out in the cold. She’s pregnant, they have dogs, so. . .on the way out, I scooped them up and brought them home with us. They made themselves comfortable immediately after they had some food and water.
These two were just all over the place:
It subjected me to an adverse environment:
The full-grown cat was VERY unhappy to have these interlopers. I never intended to keep them, of course, just to make sure they didn’t meet a terrible fate outside. These two weighed about as much as a sandwich, and they’d been outside in the cold on their own for a few days without their mother or shelter, fed once or twice. BF understood, and didn’t mind me taking them home for a rescue.
The pit bull puppy wanted to play with them, and they put him in his place with some hissing and swatting.
I kept putting the little fur balls on the other side of this “doggie gate” BF built to keep the dogs in the living room. I wanted them to stay back there so that they’d be safe. But they’re so tiny that they just kept walking right through the slats.
They tried to make nice with the big cat, but Tabbicat wasn’t having any of it. A week of keeping them separated with a makeshift litterbox in my office was all we could take, but we endured. Tabbicat whizzed in a corner, then moved on to BF’s living room chair, multiple times. I think we got the smell out, but BF still isn’t sitting in it. There may be a slipcover in its future.
Only the big cat minded. Because Tabbicat is very, very bonded with BF (he should announce their engagement) he didn’t mess with the kittens when they climbed up his chair and onto his chest. I had to peel them off BF, so that their scent didn’t mix with his.
I attempted to contact several local animal rescues, and only one responded. The lady from the one I got to met me at the Hammond Starbucks that Friday and I sadly handed them over. (I was crying on the drive down there.) She noticed that they were very docile, and they should be adopted pretty easily. I told her that if I ever found out she was involved in dog fighting I would hunt her DOWN. She laughed at me. I knew they were going to have a better life, and I wished them well, told them to be happy in their new homes.
It would have been nice to have adorable kittens a little longer. But we know we did the right thing by them.
The New Year’s Eve Barbecue
I’ve probably mentioned this before, BF is a car guy. He’s not only a mechanic, he also builds race engines. Additionally, he also knows people in the genre, and he’s been to a number of events where he’s met lots of people. This is similar to my going to AWAI Bootcamp and other conferences where I’ve met people that I’ve kept in touch with over the years.
But on this day, we drove a couple of hours to a small town near Lafayette, Louisiana, for Mr. Earl Schexnyder’s annual get-together for all his “race guy” friends. Well, OK, there were women too, but the majority of the race people were guys. Us gals were there as dates and to see what they get up to. Fortunately, BF doesn’t drink, smoke or anything like that. And I was there as a food blogger, taking pictures and nibbling like the rest of them. Oh, boy, did I nibble–just like at Bootcamp.
BF has known this man for many years, meeting him at an annual event called Drag Week. However, due to his work schedule, BF has never been able to go on New Year’s Eve. This year, he put in for a vacation day, since Mr. Earl decided to schedule his annual cookout for the 30th of December. It fell on a Saturday, so we got up early, took care of things, and hit the road.
Mr. Earl has been doing this annual cookout for many years, and enjoys inviting the people in that he has worked with and knows from his business. While he’s doing gumbo, he’s not the only cook.
This was the chicken they added to the Gumbo. Please note that I have no idea what “Slap Ya Mama” is like, nor do I condone such violence.
And rice to go with the gumbo:
Some 90 miles from home, we passed all manner of vehicles, including at least a dozen with Texas plates on them. Through areas with nothing and little areas with lots of mobile homes, we ran the gamut of Louisiana. I talked him into taking me to Trader Joe’s in Baton Rouge on the way home. We had three week-long freezes, twice with snow, and I wanted to make sure that I was stocked up with chocolate almond milk. No way am I giving up my yeast-free hot chocolate for anybody!
Remember, this is an auto repair shop, not a professional kitchen.
It’s a social event, of course, and a nice marketing thing, too. Think of it as the mechanic’s version of a cocktail party, and everyone enjoys themselves.
So, some of the things we saw when we walked in:
It was the first thing I saw, and it was a white cake with all that frosting. I didn’t touch it, honest. But what I did touch, multiple times, was this:
BF stayed away from this, I think it confused him. It looked like 7 Layer Dip, but I didn’t ask. I was too busy nibbling at it. And I couldn’t keep my paws out of these, either:
Being garage guys, you know there are:
And of course, cars, cars, and more cars. With guys talking about cars. But we’ll get to that later, OK?
But let’s talk about something really important to a Texan, native or naturalized. Barbecue.
Meet Alvin Calhoun
Now, I’ve always enjoyed barbecue. I make my own barbecue sauce (when BF isn’t home so I don’t have to listen to it.) I believe that Texas has the best barbecue, but that’s an 18-year prejudice. I’m not saying Louisiana can’t have good barbecue–but that stuff BF likes in Hammond has absolutely no taste to it. It looks like dog food, and tastes like it could be (not that I’ve sampled dog food myself.) On this occasion, BF was telling the truth, and we met some nice people, too.
In this little town on the other side of Lafayette, in an auto repair shop, on a slightly cool, and cloudy day, was the best barbecue I’ve had in a very long time. BF kept telling me about this man with a long history of doing all kinds of things, including car stuff, and now he does barbecue, too. Everyone loves his barbecue. When you have it, BF says, “It’s a life-changing event!” I was about to find out.
This is the very nice and very avid barbecue guru, Alvin Calhoun:
In all seriousness, you’ll notice this man is in a wheelchair. I won’t go into the specifics, but yes, he’s in a wheelchair, and he’s creating barbecue. Delicious barbecue. As in, you wish you hadn’t eaten all that other stuff before you had this delicious barbecue. Because now you’re going to need a wheelbarrow to get back into the truck to go home. His barbecue has won awards, beating out New Orleans’ own Brennan family. That should tell you something.
Now, all my Texas readers are thinking, “what does he use in his barbecue sauce?” Well, my Lone Star friends, Mr. Calhoun has a different opinion of barbecue sauce. Much as I like barbecue sauce, he said something I wasn’t expecting.
“Barbecue sauce is for when you have something to hide.”
No kidding. I wasn’t expecting that.
Mr. Calhoun is from North Louisiana, but now makes his home in the Baton Rouge area. He was taught by a friend how to barbecue. His approach was to think about how primitive man found himself with a feral hog on a fire, and finding out it was delicious.
How He Does It
Mr. Calhoun uses a dry rub, the ingredients of which are secret. I wouldn’t be crass enough to ask what’s in it, and he wouldn’t tell you anyway. But he’s always cooking, and he’s known far and wide by folks who appreciate it.
While these were cooking, we had a nice chat:
Of course, Mr. Calhoun has some great help, too, and I offered to bring him water or whatever he needed while he was tending the grill pits. We all had a nice time talking about stuff, but for some reason, he thought I was a food critic. We’re all “food critics” to a certain extent, but no, I’m a food blogger. I just write about stuff. Admittedly, since 2012, I’ve mentioned a few things to avoid (like Splenda and Aspartame.) But barbecue from Alvin Calhoun’s barbecue pits is not in that group. Do not avoid this man’s cookery.
So, after a while, he asked around for a plastic knife. What the heck? Because it’s ready when you can cut it with a plastic knife.
He offered me the first piece.
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Alvin Calhoun makes some really incredible, delicious barbecue. Two thumbs up, and if I had more, they’d be up too. Hot from the grill, but not pepper hot, but not overly sweet, either, like some barbecue can be. A great flavor with a hint of sweet, a hint of spice, but *not* the kind that whacks you upside your head and has you begging for a fire extinguisher.
And did I mention the husband and wife who drove in from San Antonio to meet Mr. Calhoun and visit everyone? We talked about HEB and other great Texas stuff. To which BF said, “and nobody cares but you.”
Don’t Miss The Barbecue
If ever you are invited anywhere this man is cooking, DO NOT eat anything else until after you have some barbecue, because you will, indeed, regret doing so. As I often say, I speak from experience.
Thank you, Mr. Calhoun. Everything they said was true.
There Were Other Things Besides Barbecue
Ok, so, BF reminded me that it wasn’t really a “barbecue.” Mr. Earl’s was a cookout that had barbecue on the side. Well, it really was on the side–since it needed to be outside, Mr. Calhoun and his equipment was parked under the car port at Mr. Earl’s house on the other side of the parking lot. And of course, doing barbecue with pits, there’s the whole smoke thing, so he needed to be outside with it.
There was gumbo, cooked by Mr. Earl himself:
I didn’t have any, because I’m not a gumbo fan, but BF was all over it.
And then, FRIED TURKEY
Let me preface this by saying that frying an entire turkey in a vat of hot oil can be a very dangerous thing. Stories abound about the *wrong* way to fry a turkey. Fortunately, we witnessed nothing like that.
Baton Rouge General Hospital has a series of ads about their different medical services, and this one involves the potential dangers of fried turkey. It’s short, but funny.
So, what I was told by Mr. Bill Doucette was that they injected the turkey with something that I can’t remember–something that’s made for that purpose. (The “Cajun Injector” kind of thing.)
They used peanut oil (I think) because of the high smoke point:
It doesn’t take long, either, something like a half hour, maybe. Remember that to roast a 22-pound turkey in the oven, you’re looking at about four hours.
When it comes out, it looks like this:
And they let me try it. Honest, it’s nothing like the brined turkey I like to make, but it is indeed good. A different flavor than the brined/roast version. I might try to do this one day, but. . .not until we have at least two or three new fire extinguishers available. And the undisciplined dogs are completely away from everything.
And Of Course, Cars
If the GER had been with us, he would have been licking his chops over not only the barbecue, gumbo and donuts, he would have been salivating all over these cars. Alas, my friend, I offer you the pictures I managed to get off my phone.
Every other day of the year, Mr. Earl runs an auto shop called Schexnayder Racing (this is his Facebook page.) We went in the ultra-reliable White Knight, but others were in, shall we say, much more aesthetic vehicles than we were. Then again, the White Knight is a truck, not a race car, just like Mr. Earl doesn’t run a restaurant.
This ancient vehicle is a mid-1930’s Pontiac, so says BF. Someone actually drove this to Mr. Earl’s place, no kidding.
But something tells me it’s not completely finished.
Pop the hood:
This is ACTUALLY what Mr. Earl does the rest of the year.
There were other project cars in various stages of completion, too.
All these cars, all while there was cooking and barbecue going on.
Now this one was particularly interesting:
We saw some amazing vehicles. But I didn’t get to ride in anything but The White Knight.
Mr. Earl’s Gift To His Father
The other big event was this car being unveiled:
The elder Mr. Schexnayder had a house fire a while back, and lost literally everything, including his race car. His family, including Mr. Earl, got together and found another car just like it, and have been sneaking around behind his back to have it not only restored, but to make it exactly like the car he lost in the fire. They had a heck of a time with it, but they found one, in Texas somewhere. It’s not finished yet.
When they were ready to take it out of the truck, BF leaned over to me and said, “You’re about to see a grown man cry.”
The car isn’t quite finished yet, but the elder Mr. Schexnayder was quite happy with his gift.
Before we left, I looked across the street and saw this:
How’d you like to drive this one?
A Pretty Good Saturday
It was a long, but very enjoyable Saturday for us, and I ended up driving home after we left Baton Rouge and Trader Joe’s. BF took a nap, and I streamed some music on my phone (that he didn’t like.)
Many thanks to Mr. Earl of Schexnayder Racing for the great food and the great time we all had. It was great to meet everyone, and BF was quite happy to see people he hasn’t seen in a while.
And of course, to Mr. Alvin Calhoun, Louisiana’s Barbecue Master. I’m serious–if you ever have the opportunity, do make the effort to see Mr. Calhoun and sample his wonderful barbecue. He’s a really nice man and we really enjoyed spending time with him.
I’ve bought some new things in the last few months, and I’m not finished. No, I’m not buying lots of “trinkets,” as BF puts it, but I can contribute to the household and cover things BF can’t. But right after the barbecue, I bought something we needed around here, and next time, I’ll unveil the new “baby” that’s in the kitchen.
Meantime, Happy New Year, and Happy Cooking!
Red Truck Bakery. . .let me tell you all about an incredible cake they make.
Hello, again, Dear Readers:
I’ve got a few minutes to tell you about a cake surprise I received recently from longtime friend of the blog AK. You may remember a few years ago that she sent me a Suzy Homemaker washing machine I found on eBay and posted on Facebook just for fun. I still have it, and it still works, but it’s still packed in a box right now until I get more bookshelves and have a place to put it. Well, she sent me something else.
But first. . . .
I’m still working on Upwork, and BOOKED UP. I’ve been making money, not a fortune, but able to buy groceries and take care of some stuff for us. It’s not a lot, but we’re not on just his paycheck anymore. I’ve had some technical problems too, which I hope to solve soon so I can get on with it. I haven’t bought any more glasses, but that will happen again soon, probably after the holidays. I hate having just one pair. . .but it’s temporary. I’m hoping to surprise BF with a nice little (inexpensive) present for Christmas, too.
The Royal Wedding!
By now you’ve heard that Prince Harry is engaged to American actress Megan Markle. This was a big non-event to BF, but I have ordered a McCall’s pattern that is a very close copy to the white one she wore from Line The Label. (View D) The pattern happened to have been on sale that day, and I ordered a couple of other patterns while they were cheap. (I miss Hancock Fabrics!) You can’t even buy that coat now, because they’ve all been bought and the company’s website crashed that day.
BF asks, “How does this affect my life here in Louisiana?” I responded that it’s a positive event happening in the near future. He didn’t agree.
I also came up with a new fitness goal for us. We need to get in shape for the Royal Wedding! Now, I’ve been busy and haven’t been exercising, but I’m planning to change that this week. I thought it would be a great way to set a fitness goal for both of us. But the minute I said “Royal Wedding,” that went over like a lead balloon.
For the record, I am still The Duchess Of El Dorado. In case you were wondering. . . .
And, BTW, wedding cake in the UK and Australia is traditionally fruit cake, if you didn’t know that.
Not The Same Thanksgiving
We didn’t host this year, and although I ordered two jars of Sur La Table’s turkey brine, I was glad. After last year’s mixed-bag of likes and dislikes, I kind of felt like my time as the star turkey maker was over. BF’s daughter is expecting her second child, and her partner had to work that day, so it kind of fizzled out. We went to his father’s place up the road, where BF’s sister-in-law made ham, potato salad with green olives and something else, and some other stuff I didn’t try. No, not traditional, but I like ham and the occasional potato dish. Maybe next year.
This summer, much to BF’s chagrin, I made three batches of fresh pesto for the freezer. The basil was growing wild again, so I made some, along with a batch of Pea & Pesto Soup for myself. BF called me from work one day and I told him I was making some. His response: “Oh, I can hardly wait.” Smarty-pants.
I’ve got what I hope is a good supply for the winter. Y’all know I love Pea & Pesto Soup!
If you read this on Facebook. . .my apologies.
Back in July, we had to head to Hammond for a couple of things, including a stop at the new Petco to get a “cone of shame” for the pit bull, who managed to injure himself and get caught in an fire ant pile. He looked like he’d been dog-fighting and lost, but that’s not really what happened. Poor puppy. We cleaned him up and applying some topical antibiotic stuff, but he kept scratching it. For three days he tried to pull the thing off, but BF’s ingenious use of zip-ties ensured that he couldn’t.
Petco is right there in the strip mall where Starbucks is. I also get the emails that let me know about goings on. For various reasons, BF is not a fan of Starbucks, but I am. So when I got the email announcing the free tea tasting that day, I made sure BF knew about it, and that we were going. Reluctantly, he agreed.
He Indulges Me
Starbucks was offering free 12-ounce (“Tall”) cups of their hand-shaken iced tea infusions, one per customer. I requested the peach-white tea infusion; BF, after some confusion, requested strawberry with green tea. I’m not a fan of the green tea, but he’s had it. They served us our tea, and I suggested to BF that he try a sip first, then add a packet of the stevia they have, since it dissolves instantly and completely. That’s what I did, and it worked perfectly. BF. . .not so much. He didn’t take my suggestion of the stevia, instead, opting for a half cup of white sugar. It didn’t help. I drank most of it, but the sugar sinks to the bottom and doesn’t dissolve. Not wild about the taste, either, but I think stevia would have been a better option. He probably would have liked the peach teabetter. Oh, well. At least he gave it a shot, and it was free.
BF has frequently told the story of being in Kuwait and seeing his fellow service members stand in line in 100F heat waiting to get a hot coffee at Starbucks. Baffled, he asked them, why? “It tastes like home,” they said.
Yes, Starbucks DOES support service members, veterans and their families. There’s a long-running rumor that’s still rolling around the world. I’ll say it again–I’m not always wild about what the company puts out, but they are still a good company and mean well. Starbucks has always been great to me, and they do support our US troops. Anyway. . . .
Brownies. . .
Sometimes fast food is brought into BF’s place of employment. Usually it’s pizza, fried chicken or something else of the same nature. Sometimes management pops for food, sometimes they pool money. Recently BF walked in after work with this box:
It seems some of the folks had been to the new local Pizza Hut, and bought these, anticipating the finest creation from a patisserie. BF took them after they told him these brownies were “a little too rich.” Well, they look normal:
Yes, I tried a bit. (Cake-like texture.) Yes, they look like brownies. No, they don’t taste anything like brownies. They have no taste to them at all. Seriously. They taste like chocolate flavored rubbish.
Maybe it’s my age–I’m not 16 anymore. (My birthday was in October, nevermind how old I am!) Maybe it’s my tastes that have changed, or I know rubbish when I taste it. Or maybe. . .I dunno. BF ate them one at a time with his lunch, and they’re gone. Yuck.
Here’s my professional blogger/foodie advice: if you want pizza, go to Pizza Hut, your favorite Italian restaurant, buy a frozen one or make it yourself. If you want brownies, find a recipe or buy a mix and bake them yourself. Get a recipe from Pinterest and make waffle brownies. Stop at a bakery, coffee shop or even the grocery store. Or make some Yeast-Free Brownies with Swerve Sweetener. But for cryin’ out loud, don’t buy brownies in a pizza joint when you’re having a chocolate craving.
I mean, think about it. Would you ask your mechanic to decorate your house? Would you hire an interior decorator to tune up your car and change the CV joints? How about ask a dog trainer to babysit your cat? NO! So don’t buy brownies in a place where they specialize in pizza. Brownies from a pizza place are generally not what you’re looking for.
Speaking of brownies
I found the last picture of the lot from the einkorn article. Dunno what happened, but here it is:
More Hatch Chiles
I’ve been busy with writing and everything else, and I just never got around to really cultivating the Hatch chiles. Darnit. You Texas readers appreciate the Hatch chiles. I was thrilled to find them in this area, and even happier to find out that a few people actually know what they are. (Buddhist friend JL knows all about them and gets it.)
BF’s BFF, Big H, was working in New Mexico this summer and has discovered Hatch chiles after I told him *all* about them. I warned him about the “red or green sauce” thing, and he found out I wasn’t kidding. One day he sent me a picture:
Hot dawg! He tried it–and he liked it! Which is more than I can say for BF, who I believe is just the victim of way too many MRE’s in the Navy. I only seek to educate, and in Big H’s case, he discovered that the mild green chile is a pretty good addition to a burger. BF, on the other hand, has taken to telling everyone, particularly *my* friends, “She’s tryin’ ta kill me!” He’s still alive. If I was, he wouldn’t be!
The Red Truck Bakery Surprise
A few months ago, mid-summer, I got a FB message from AK, a fellow copywriter asking for my home address. I gave it to her–I’ve known her in person for several years–and she said that I should expect a package on Thursday. Oh, BOY! But what was it? She wouldn’t tell me. She would only tell me that it was coming via UPS.
Well, Thursday came. It was raining and it was getting late. UPS runs late, especially at the holidays, so I knew it might be night before the brown truck arrived. And about 7:30 that night, it did. The UPS guy was even interested in what it was, because I told him my friend in Idaho was anxiously awaiting my text of receipt. (He knew when he saw “Red Truck Bakery” on the shipping label!) When I saw where it was from, I thought, “oh, I don’t normally do this kind of thing.” But then I opened it up and discovered this cake:
CAKE! And yes, it was gluten free! AK knows me. Immediately, I sent a picture to BF at work.
And naturally, let her know immediately that I’d received her kind and generous gift.
Red Truck Bakery is a mail-order bakery in Virginia, and they ship nationwide. They even have a testimonial from former President Obama, who apparently loves pie. Hey–it’s like the royal crest, right? (Even if you didn’t like him–trust me, on this, the former POTUS has very good taste.)
AK has had a number of treats from Red Truck Bakery, including some gluten-free ones that she’s highly recommended.
I texted BF and let him know too, and what it was, and cracked open the box:
Now, I promise I’m not being ungrateful when I say this–but it doesn’t look like the picture on their website:
It comes in Red Truck’s lovely and classic bakery box too:
However, when you cut into it, you really won’t care what it looks like. I carefully unwrapped it:
You smell the delicious aroma of almonds and amaretto when it’s opened. However, I didn’t cut into it, I simply put it in the fridge and waited for him to get home from work that night.
After we had dinner, I cut us each a slice.
This almond cake has no flour and is called “gluten free,” but I’m telling you, serve it to just about any group and don’t say anything–they’ll never know. It’s not a “diet cake,” because there is sugar in it. A very, VERY delicious cake it is, and you definitely won’t miss any frosting. Great anytime, or with a cup of coffee or tea, this is the kind of cake you hope for when you buy one.
Red Truck Bakery is in Marshall, Virginia, and they ship nationwide. This delicious Almond Cake With Amaretto would be just the thing for holiday gifts for friends far away, whether or not they’re gluten-free. Red Truck also offers a menu of other delicious baked goods AK assures me are just as delicious as this cake is. Whatever you decide to order, apparently, you won’t go wrong.
I can highly recommend this cake to send as a gift, or to order for your holiday table. It really is incredibly delicious.
I talked to AK later and asked her what the occasion was. Well, I’ve been bragging on Facebook about the clients I’ve gotten, the work I’ve been doing and the fact that I’ve made a little money with it. (It impressed the heck out of BF.) She said the cake was a gift to celebrate my recent successes, and hopes for many more.
I wouldn’t say I was “crushing it,” but apparently folks think I have been. That’s good. I really am working and making a little money. Sometimes I have more than BF–but it doesn’t last long. <smirk>
He Likes It, Too
BF had one slice, and decided it was very good, too. After dinner, I made a cappuccino, poured him a glass of milk, and we had dessert. But he only had one slice. I asked him if he wanted another slice of cake, and he said, “Well, it’s delicious, but it’s really for you.”
Awwww. . .I did finish it, eventually, one slice at a time.
Christmas Is Coming. . .
It’s coming whether you want it to or not, so think about Red Truck Bakery if you’re either stressed out, or would like to send a delicious gift to someone (including yourself.) This almond amaretto cake would be a perfect gift.
I’ll try to blog again soon–but if I don’t, please have a delicious and Merry Christmas this year.
I’m back, at least this week, with an anniversary post. It’s been a year since I left Houston. I’m still getting used to it around here.
Hello, again, Dear Readers:
It’s me again! The Dislocated Texan hasn’t gone away, she’s just been really busy. I’m still doing freelance work on Upwork, writing about different things, and trying to keep the laundry monster from overwhelming us. It has, a couple of times. I’ve received some great feedback from different clients, even though a couple of them aren’t clients anymore. That’s just the nature of the beast.
One Year Anniversary
Me and BF recently realized that it’s our one-year anniversary since he “rescued” me from Houston. He first arrived on Friday, September 9th, and then I made two more trips before the “drop dead” date of September 15, when I had to be out. We went one more time, about a month later, to retrieve the rest of my paltry things from Neighbor E’s place, which he graciously stored for me. Despite the desire to, we’ve not yet been able to go back for a visit.
From the place I used to live, I’ve only heard from Neighbor E since moving away; none of the other neighbors have corresponded. Do I care? Nah–and Neighbor E doesn’t, either. We keep in touch, of course, on Facebook, by phone, and the occasional emails and texts. He has told me a few times to be glad I don’t live there anymore, since it was already an unfriendly atmosphere before I moved. There are “lots of new people” there, but they’re primarily renters, I suppose, since owners figured out they could make a bundle doing it. Neighbor E owns his condo, and has lived there for 30 years–he’s not able to just pick up and move like I did. That’s why I would never buy a unit that needed a good $25K in repairs, although nobody could have predicted how it all went down.
And Then She Was Gone
My former residence, a one-bedroom condo I rented for 12 years, was unoccupied for nearly a year after I moved out of it. E told me that someone had just moved in it in mid-August. After completely renovating the place, the management company couldn’t rent it or sell it for love or money, but I guess they finally found a sucker. . .I mean, tenant, to take it. I wonder if the kitchen sink drain has backed up on this person yet. (I know, not nice.)
Thanks to Facebook, I can keep in touch with everyone else, even folks I haven’t seen in a while. The GER isn’t on Facebook, but we keep up on email and the occasional call. (He doesn’t text, either.) Heard from Debbie the Avon Lady just last week when “Hurricane Nate” blew through; we didn’t even notice it. I’ve spoken to LK, the GER, Miss Alice and others frequently since leaving. I still refer to LK as “my district leader in Houston,” even though I’m not in her district anymore (and neither is Miss Alice.) Still I have a great new district leader in Mandeville, which is nearly an hour drive from here, and I go to SGI activities whenever I can. BF has gone with me to the district meeting once, and met everyone. NM took a few pictures of us, one which is now our “anniversary picture.”
A Little Spirituality
OK, so not the usual thing from a food blog, but I’m going to shift the focus with a little bit of Buddhist scripture. You’ll understand why shortly:
The Buddha promised in the Lotus Sutra that, for women, the sutra will serve as a lantern in the darkness, as a ship when they cross the sea, and a protector when they travel through dangerous places. (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, Volume 1, page 614.)
One of the biggest reasons I became a Buddhist on my birthday in 1986 was because women were not excluded or secondary. Throughout the Lotus Sutra, it states that women are equally able to become enlightened, in their present form–it’s not reserved for just men, and it’s not only something that’s possible in a future state. (Next week is my 31st anniversary of starting my Buddhist practice.)
A big reason to practice Nichiren Daishonin’s Buddhism is protection. It’s not to say that bad things can’t happen to Buddhists, because they do. But sometimes those bad things can be good things in disguise, and you find out later that you were protected. Or that something that you suffered could have been a lot worse. I could tell you about the time I was returning to Houston after visiting New Orleans and took a turn off the I-10 to get a coffee, returned to I-10 and discovered a multiple-car accident. That could have been ME. A $2 cup of coffee saved me a lot of time, hassle and money, not to mention the potential for injury, a long way from home. LK also knows a parable that explains it well, but I don’t know it all myself.
Next week is my 31st Buddhist anniversary. Not giving it up.
Texas Isn’t Texas Anymore
As I’ve said many times, the inbound migration is changing the face of the entire state of Texas. People flocked INTO Texas from everywhere, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that eventually the glass is over filled and spilling out. In January, MD Anderson Cancer Center announced layoffs of over 1,000 people. Both Neighbor E and I had applied there, and I went on multiple interviews there. I really, REALLY wanted to get hired at MD Anderson–we both did. I’ve known many people who have gone there for cancer treatment and rave about MDA. But after the way I was treated as an applicant, I’d keep my cancer before I went there for treatment.
Then there’s NRG, who, like other big companies, laid off longtime workers to hire cheaper people. How nice they are. I hated having them as my electric service provider, especially when I had to talk to a customer service person in Mexico. How do I know? Well, the heavy accent was a dead giveaway, but of course, when asked, they told me.
I was protected from that layoff, as well as others.
My brother, who has been in and out of Houston many times, told me that “Houston is full of unemployed people.” So, while I didn’t see it at the time, I was protected.
The Unwanted Visitor
Living on the Gulf Coast, you get used to star-struck meteorologists with acting experience making a big deal out of a little wind and rain. One of the Baton Rouge guys has a theatrical routine: he takes his suit jacket off and rolls up his sleeves before his actual segment, when he’s talking to you about what he’s going to talk about in the weather segment. Then he puts his jacket on for his “turn.” He takes his jacket off again, exposing the rolled-up sleeves, for another “teaser,” and then for the closing segment with the news wonks and the sports guy, he’s got his jacket back on. (I prefer to depend on the Wunderground app.)
In a lot of cases, they over-dramatize things, scaring the bejeezus out of people. In September of 2005, as Hurricane Rita roared into the Gulf of Mexico, people all over Houston went bonkers. I haven’t forgotten being in traffic with Catmandu and Kismet trying to get to Austin from Clear Lake in the middle of the night, windows rolled down to avoid using the car’s AC. I was on the phone with my brother online trying to find my way through back roads to get to Austin. Hurricane Rita was coming, and it was going to wipe out Houston! It was just weeks after Katrina, and everyone panicked.
The Infamous Hell Ride
I found a Walmart open in Waller somewhere on the way, and some petrol, too. But we didn’t need to evacuate. Austin’s normally a 3-hour trip, but it took 11 hours to get there. I was exhausted. Other people had the same experience, and people died during that nightmare. They like to err on the side of caution, they’ll tell you, but going on TV and all but saying, “We’re All Gonna DIE!!!” makes people ignore you when it’s the real thing.
Unfortunately, sometimes they’re wrong.
First, there was Ike
After the Rita evacuation disaster, I had no plans to evacuate when Ike showed up. When the fire department started driving around telling people to leave, and all my neighbors were gone, I figured it was time to go. I called The E Man and told him I was coming. It was the last time I went over the Sabine River until last year. I was at their place for nine days, staying in touch at coffee shops, the libraries, and other places, with my Boeing laptop. There was some serious damage, and I knew people who had water in their houses. But that was nothing compared to this year.
That was also when Catmandu hid in their sofa. When we extracted him, he went bonkers and we had to isolate him in a closet for a few days until it was time to head home. I never considered evacuation after that!
But what if I hadn’t left? What if I’d stayed?
Then Came Harvey
The eight-year anniversary of Ike saw a new arrival. Harvey.
Nobody saw this guy coming, until he took aim squarely at Texas. Rockport. Port Lavaca. Port Aransas. Matagorta. Port O’Connor. High Island. San Luis Pass. And finally, Houston. The 3rd largest county and the 4th largest city in the United States, drowned by a Category 5 hurricane. Louisiana got some of it too, in an area called Cameron in the southwest sector. After Harvey rampaged through Beaumont, Port Arthur, and a handful of other places in Texas. He had a grudge, folks. You can read a recap of it here, on Wikipedia.
The most incredible picture I saw on social media was this one:
That’s not Galveston Bay, The Sabine River, or any other body of water. That’s the I-10 freeway, between Houston and Beaumont, under about eight feet of water. This is what that stretch of land normally looks like.BF and I made four trips on that very stretch of the I-10 between Houston and Beaumont this time last year. I can’t tell you how many times in 18 years I made that drive by myself, leaving Houston for a trip. We had no idea.
Everything Flooded. Everything.
Neighbor E had a little water in his unit, but it was from a drain pipe. Many of the “new people” didn’t know to move their cars up to the easements, and their cars were flooded. LK had a tiny bit of water in her garage, but her new school flooded, and she was required to go and clean up her new classroom. The GER had about an eighth of an inch of water in the Funk House/Junk House, which is on a slight hill. But the GER’s other neighbors had 2″ to 15″ of water, and he was helping them clean up. Aunt Ruth was willing away the water, which came up to her place three times but not inside. Aunt Kathy had to clean a flooded storage unit all by herself. Others I know and keep up with on FB had four feet of water in their houses for several days.
I was 300 miles away, and didn’t have to deal with anything like that. Miss Alice was in a place that should have flooded, near Hobby Airport, but didn’t. That’s protection. Her new school was destroyed, and the Houston Independent School District (HISD) relocated them to a new school.
Neighbor E’s truck
He left it in his usual parking space, but water didn’t get INTO the truck, just close to it:I can’t believe people buy SmartCars in Houston and actually drive them on the freeway, but they do. Of course, in a Chevy Silverado, or a Ford F-150, you can’t see these little insects over your hood. But there are occasions where it’s not a bad thing to have: It can also come in handy here, although I have to wonder if the infamous homeowner’s association would ticket them for it: “Ain’t Skeered?” You ain’t been around long enough, Honcho.
Crain’s Houston puts the damage at about $50 million dollars, and will take Houston years to clean up and get back to normal. Even places that normally don’t flood, flooded. The Woodlands. Conroe. Katy. Friendswood. Galveston. You name it, they probably flooded. Although, I’m told those pictures of Southwest Airlines planes underwater at Hobby were Photoshopped.
The Complete Change Of Scenery
I used to dream about that cabin in the woods, living out of the city, and having lots of trees around. Well, I’ve got it–just not in Texas. I’ve posted pictures before of the area I call Cow Road. The whole area is like that, except the roads are better. We no longer have to take Cow Road to get to town, but when I go pay the water bill, I make it a point to go that way. It’s a beautiful ride, bumping and grinding along, with trees covering the entire airspace above the road. I drive up and down small rural highways that are surrounded by native growth trees, older houses, beat-up trailers next to “showcase” homes, into town to shop at. . .Walmart, or on my way out somewhere.
Fellow redhead writer LM has also had a recent change of life, involving not only a new man, but horsies! She’s moved her business to a farm somewhere in California (she was living in Sherman Oaks) and gets to live the ranch life. She’s safe and happy, so that’s the most important thing. I met her at Bootcamp in 2011, and kept up ever since. (Obviously, she’s better than me at the business side of copywriting.) I’m not going to Bootcamp this year, but will be here at La Casa watching it live-streamed starting Wednesday evening. So glad I joined AWAI’s Circle of Success when I did, in 2011. Ah, yes, another anniversary, this one in my copywriting life.
Another anniversary thing. Amazingly, I managed to get some Hatch chiles this year–both Whole Foods and Rouse’s had some, and I grabbed a bunch. I also feasted on guac and chips at the Whole Foods in Metairie–you don’t get offered that in Cracker Barrel. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Cracker Barrel, OK?)Naturally, I roasted them as I did many times in Houston, filling the house with their delicious scent. I should have done it when *he* was at work, because all I heard was, “Oh, my GOD–what’s that horrible SMELL? It stinks in here! For God’s sake, woman, open a WINDOW!!” This from a person who owns two stinky dogs, has a cat litter box in his house, and is frequently coated in sweat and some kind of automotive substance.
And, it gets worse.
A couple of weeks ago, a very nice lady who is good friends with AK posted a recipe for Nutella Brownies. The recipe is simple, four eggs and a cup of that delicious Nutella. No kidding.Carefully warm one cup of the Nutella in the microwave until it’s a little bit liquid. Or, more liquid-er, I guess. Use the remainder as you like (i.e., dig it out with the little spatula and enjoy it yourself, because there isn’t much left.) Meantime, whip the heck of them eggs. Line your baking pan with parchment paper, and grease it, as well as a little grease on bottom of the paper, on the inside of the pan, primarily to hold it in place. I think I used coconut oil. Once the eggs are really, really whipped: Admittedly, because of my favorite chocolate cake from one of Suzanne Somers books, I added a pinch of baking soda in the eggs before I beat them. Carefully, at this point, you start ladling in the Nutella. WARNING: if your Nutella is hot, it will cook the eggs and you will not have brownies. Make sure it’s just kind of warmed, and a bit more fluid, before you start this process. A cup or so at a time, on a slower speed, until it’s all incorporated.
Bake them in a 350F oven for 25 to 30 minutes. I baked them in a rectangular pan so I could use the smaller oven, because I still have no toaster oven.I don’t buy Nutella often, for two reasons: one, it’s sugar, and two, I can’t stop.
So, What Happened?
Happy Anniversary, Honey!
I thought they were delicious–rich, eggy, but not too sweet. It’s gluten free, but you can add a half cup of flour to make them more cake-like. Pretty good, with a nice texture. BF turned his nose up at them, but did make the attempt to try them. I don’t remember his comment, but it included, “well, at least I tried them.”
And after that, I don’t cook or bake anything for him that’s from the “post-Amy menu.” Everything he eats is now “pre-Amy,” unless it’s for me. There was some roast chicken and pork roast this weekend, but anything beyond that, I just cook for myself.
We’re going to see if Walmart has “Thanksgiving In A Box” this year. I’m having whatever I want, and he can make the things he likes. Anyone coming over? Well, he knows how to make instant mashed potatoes and mac and cheese from a box. With his daughter’s news of his second grandchild come March, he’ll have more chances to be hands-on with the 3-year old.
Maybe. But definitely not to the extent I did Thanksgiving last year. There will be CrockPots involved, that’s for sure.
Otherwise. . . .
Well, we’re still here, with two hounds and a rude little cat. She doesn’t much care for me unless it’s time to feed her furry butt. She’s all about BF. Think of her like the female who goes after your man right in front of you, and that’s pretty much our cat. They don’t make them like they used to.
We did manage a little anniversary dinner at Cracker Barrel, but they don’t have any more Big Little Fudge, darnit. Just because we’re not married doesn’t mean we can’t have an anniversary, right? We have no plans to, so that’s why I call him my “partner.” Before you say, “the term ‘partner’ is just for gay couples,” no, it isn’t, and I’ve seen it both ways. But it sure confuses the heck out of people here!
Five Years of Blogging
Yes, it’s true, I’m coming up on five years of blogging. WordPress should be reminding me of that anniversary real soon.
I’m still not making a LOT of money, just enough to help out and get some things I need. One thing I really, REALLY needed was new glasses to replace the old ones. When I say old, I mean FIVE YEARS OLD. No kidding. I had one pair that I wore every day, and were horribly scratched, and a second pair–thank heavens–that I bought and kept only for job interviews and dress occasions. They were the last pairs I bought through the insurance I had with Boeing, and BF was starting to complain that maybe I couldn’t see well enough to drive. I reminded him that my glasses were five years old.
Back in August, I had a few dollars and got my first eye exam since April or May of 2012. At the local Walmart, no less. I got a written copy of my prescription, and ordered a pair of glasses from Zenni Optical. They arrived about two weeks later in the mail, and I put them right on. I had a headache for a little while, because my others were so old, and I needed a better prescription really bad. But I’m OK now. I can SEE!
Took this picture just a couple of weeks ago in New Orleans. I wanted something different. So? Whaddaya think?
You’ll notice my hair is getting longer, too. I need to have about a two-inch trim, which I’ll get soon. It’s somewhat thinner than before, but it’s definitely a lot longer than it’s been in years. Like, since about 2004, I think. But I’m also back taking vitamins and still using the organic plant based hair color, so maybe it will grow in thicker. Fingers crossed.
I use this pic on Facebook as my new profile shot. Someone commented on my “flawless complexion” and asked, “what’s your secret?” My response: “an app.”
I do plan to get at least a couple more pairs of glasses in different styles, and if I can make enough money, another pair like these to have a backup. Wish I’d started doing this years ago–I always bought from Target, but not anymore.
Until next time. . . .
Many thanks for sticking with me. I will try to finish some posts up soon and get them published.