 | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| April - June 2009 |
The Kitchen Counter Archives
April 6, 2009
Yes, it's a new kitchen counter. I am the proud owner of a quasi country estate
which is just close enough to town to get hooked up for natural gas and cable
TV, but far enough away to have soybeans as my backyard. At some point
during the year between completed construction and my purchase of this house,
field mice had the garage and basement all to themselves. Based on the
amount of their droppings left behind, several families must have been
shacking up here and multiplying. Whether they still call this place home
remains to be seen, but I'll take no chances and no prisoners. I'm old school -
no fancy poison, no sticky tape, just a good old fashioned quick snap with
peanut butter as my bait. So watch out varmints, there's a new sheriff in town....
which is just close enough to town to get hooked up for natural gas and cable
TV, but far enough away to have soybeans as my backyard. At some point
during the year between completed construction and my purchase of this house,
field mice had the garage and basement all to themselves. Based on the
amount of their droppings left behind, several families must have been
shacking up here and multiplying. Whether they still call this place home
remains to be seen, but I'll take no chances and no prisoners. I'm old school -
no fancy poison, no sticky tape, just a good old fashioned quick snap with
peanut butter as my bait. So watch out varmints, there's a new sheriff in town....
May 26, 2009
Sooner or later, they were bound to find me. Mature people with an abundance
of free time tend to be extraordinarily resourceful, and apparently I am still
considered old in some circles. It took exactly 60 days for the American
Association of Retired Persons to track down my new address and continue their
quest to sell me a $16/year membership. AARP Chief Executive Officer Addison
Barry Rand, whose name should not be confused with that of a class action law
firm, says my benefits of membership will more than pay the cost of admission
in no time flat. Old people rule!
of free time tend to be extraordinarily resourceful, and apparently I am still
considered old in some circles. It took exactly 60 days for the American
Association of Retired Persons to track down my new address and continue their
quest to sell me a $16/year membership. AARP Chief Executive Officer Addison
Barry Rand, whose name should not be confused with that of a class action law
firm, says my benefits of membership will more than pay the cost of admission
in no time flat. Old people rule!
June 1, 2009
We have an epidemic brewing in this country that has nothing to do with pigs
and airborne illness. It is called Steadily Shrinking Serving Size Disorder. In this
example, we have two versions of Quaker's chewy granola snack. My love for
chewy granola goes almost as far as my passion for roosting across virgin
singletrack, and my cupboard is generally stocked with multiple varieties (even a
few crunchy flavors now and then). One of the newer offerings from Quaker is on
the right, peanuts with a coating of chocolate on one side. Looked delicious in
the store, tasted fabulous at home. Only problem? One 0.77-ounce serving just
doesn't cut it. In fact, two bars is barely enough. We are talking fun-size
granola, folks, and as it turns out, there is twice the fat and calories in two bars
as there are in one. Go figure. The granola bar on the left is a mere 0.84
ounces, itself barely enough to satisfy. It wasn't always this way. When I began
my courtship with Quaker Chewy Granola, the bars were a full 1.0 ounces. I miss
those days.
and airborne illness. It is called Steadily Shrinking Serving Size Disorder. In this
example, we have two versions of Quaker's chewy granola snack. My love for
chewy granola goes almost as far as my passion for roosting across virgin
singletrack, and my cupboard is generally stocked with multiple varieties (even a
few crunchy flavors now and then). One of the newer offerings from Quaker is on
the right, peanuts with a coating of chocolate on one side. Looked delicious in
the store, tasted fabulous at home. Only problem? One 0.77-ounce serving just
doesn't cut it. In fact, two bars is barely enough. We are talking fun-size
granola, folks, and as it turns out, there is twice the fat and calories in two bars
as there are in one. Go figure. The granola bar on the left is a mere 0.84
ounces, itself barely enough to satisfy. It wasn't always this way. When I began
my courtship with Quaker Chewy Granola, the bars were a full 1.0 ounces. I miss
those days.
June 7, 2009
I had every intention of racing at White City, Illinois today, all the way down to
the peanut butter and jelly sandwich prepared in advance yesterday and placed
in a Ziplock baggie inside my refrigerator. It would have been an early morning
and I wanted to roll out of bed, throw everything into the Blazer and start
driving. Those plans failed to materialize when two attractive ladies showed up
unannounced at my door last night, invited me out, and the next thing you
know, it's 9:45 a.m. on Sunday and I realize I have 4 different varieties of
Pop-Tarts in the house. Why? Because I enjoy Pop-Tarts very much.
So instead of rushing to pack my gear and load the KX250 for a 4-hour drive
downstate, I toasted blueberry 'Tarts, caught up on some magazines that have
been gathering dust as I tried to turn a new house into a home over the past
two months, and had a truly relaxing morning for quite possibly the first time
since I moved to Dakota.
Rewind to last night, and a certain oft-repeated statement is still fresh in my
mind: Nothing good happens in Nora. For those not familiar with the small
towns of Northwestern Illinois, Nora is a dot on the map, a destination that
must be found in order to be experienced. It is, quite simply, a place to
continue your evening when the annual Orangeville Firemen's Festival shuts
down for the night. In other words, it has a bar that stays open until 4:00 a.m.
The drive from Orangeville with a group of natives was an adventure in itself,
as it seemed every living whitetail deer in Jo Daviess County was begging to be
road kill. Nora's claim to fame (every small town has one) was something along
the lines of a lady who ran a grocery store many years ago, who supposedly
rode Ulysses S. Grant's horse as a girl. It's not exactly a Buzz Bomb, but it's
something.
The "Nothing good happens..." part of our Nora visit came on the drive home,
when my neighbor Deanna made road kill out of a "raccoon" which bore a
striking resemblance to a striped feline. A few hours later, with blueberry
Pop-Tarts in hand I reflected on my first night of local culture since I moved
into my new home: life ain't bad here.
the peanut butter and jelly sandwich prepared in advance yesterday and placed
in a Ziplock baggie inside my refrigerator. It would have been an early morning
and I wanted to roll out of bed, throw everything into the Blazer and start
driving. Those plans failed to materialize when two attractive ladies showed up
unannounced at my door last night, invited me out, and the next thing you
know, it's 9:45 a.m. on Sunday and I realize I have 4 different varieties of
Pop-Tarts in the house. Why? Because I enjoy Pop-Tarts very much.
So instead of rushing to pack my gear and load the KX250 for a 4-hour drive
downstate, I toasted blueberry 'Tarts, caught up on some magazines that have
been gathering dust as I tried to turn a new house into a home over the past
two months, and had a truly relaxing morning for quite possibly the first time
since I moved to Dakota.
Rewind to last night, and a certain oft-repeated statement is still fresh in my
mind: Nothing good happens in Nora. For those not familiar with the small
towns of Northwestern Illinois, Nora is a dot on the map, a destination that
must be found in order to be experienced. It is, quite simply, a place to
continue your evening when the annual Orangeville Firemen's Festival shuts
down for the night. In other words, it has a bar that stays open until 4:00 a.m.
The drive from Orangeville with a group of natives was an adventure in itself,
as it seemed every living whitetail deer in Jo Daviess County was begging to be
road kill. Nora's claim to fame (every small town has one) was something along
the lines of a lady who ran a grocery store many years ago, who supposedly
rode Ulysses S. Grant's horse as a girl. It's not exactly a Buzz Bomb, but it's
something.
The "Nothing good happens..." part of our Nora visit came on the drive home,
when my neighbor Deanna made road kill out of a "raccoon" which bore a
striking resemblance to a striped feline. A few hours later, with blueberry
Pop-Tarts in hand I reflected on my first night of local culture since I moved
into my new home: life ain't bad here.
June 17, 2009
There was a time in my adult life when I could have explained, in at least in
some level of basic detail, what an 8 year old boy might consider cool.
Gameboys, Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, maybe even a Tickle Me Elmo for the
socially challenged. Today, I am clueless. What you see above is what I was
told by my sister to buy my nephew for his birthday. Not these items,
specifically, but anything having something to do with Bakugan or Pokemon.
So I went to Target and grabbed $35 worth of stuff which I know as much
about as potpourri or Australian Rules football.
My freshman roommate, David Chang, used to draw cartoons in the same
Japanese style as the images on the BakutTin (again, no idea what this is or
what's inside), so I assume it is some derivative of Pokemon. I know that
young boys collect and trade Pokemon and Bakugan cards, but beyond that,
I'm just hoping I bought something that an 8-year-old might find halfway cool.
If not, then that's what gift receipts are for.
some level of basic detail, what an 8 year old boy might consider cool.
Gameboys, Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, maybe even a Tickle Me Elmo for the
socially challenged. Today, I am clueless. What you see above is what I was
told by my sister to buy my nephew for his birthday. Not these items,
specifically, but anything having something to do with Bakugan or Pokemon.
So I went to Target and grabbed $35 worth of stuff which I know as much
about as potpourri or Australian Rules football.
My freshman roommate, David Chang, used to draw cartoons in the same
Japanese style as the images on the BakutTin (again, no idea what this is or
what's inside), so I assume it is some derivative of Pokemon. I know that
young boys collect and trade Pokemon and Bakugan cards, but beyond that,
I'm just hoping I bought something that an 8-year-old might find halfway cool.
If not, then that's what gift receipts are for.
June 19, 2009
You're looking at a monumental event, folks. For the first time ever, I bought a
sweet-smelling candle. Why? Because my house smells like wood. For some
reason, while the deck guys were working away, each day they were here, the
place smelled more and more like a lumber yard. Not that I object to the aroma
of treated pine, but at some point I have to draw the line and admit that I do
need a few girlie things in the house that smell pleasant. Here we have a
cranberry/mandarin orange combo. I do love me some cranberry juice, and
mandarin orange slices in a can are pretty tasty, so why not enjoy their
fragrance 24/7? I would get a few more of these for the rest of the house, but
at $16 a pop, one will have to suffice. It will go directly in front of the air vent.
sweet-smelling candle. Why? Because my house smells like wood. For some
reason, while the deck guys were working away, each day they were here, the
place smelled more and more like a lumber yard. Not that I object to the aroma
of treated pine, but at some point I have to draw the line and admit that I do
need a few girlie things in the house that smell pleasant. Here we have a
cranberry/mandarin orange combo. I do love me some cranberry juice, and
mandarin orange slices in a can are pretty tasty, so why not enjoy their
fragrance 24/7? I would get a few more of these for the rest of the house, but
at $16 a pop, one will have to suffice. It will go directly in front of the air vent.
