Via Powerline’s The Week in Pictures
Powerline’s The Week in Pictures
3rd-graders score above average on reading test
Christmas Parade set for Dec. 7
Fellowship Food Center invites everyone 60 and older to daily lunch
911 Calls: 10/28 8:55am goats in road; 10/30 5:25pm two semi trucks on Natchez trace; 11/2 1:55pm locked vehicle; 7:34pm fake money received; 8:29pm shots fired; 8:31pm three shots fired
High school marching band wins 2nd state championship
Barbecue business keep family busy
Library story time about ‘Fall Leaves’
Jail docket: Dumbasses doing dumbass stuff like not wearing seatbelts and having no insurance and texting while driving
 Should be “keeps”; I do not edit the newspaper and apparently the editor doesn’t either, though he is a nice guy.
 See ; Very little consistency in headline capitalization
 All in all there were six inches by four columns of 911 calls.
 Holy moly! The goats were on The Main 4-Lane Highway!
 You would think that if you had no insurance you would *not* call attention to yourself by doing dumbass stuff while driving, wouldn’t you? Yes you would, because you are not a dumbass.
It was a Saturday, I believe. There were several bands of thunderstorms with strong winds blowing through, and there was a lot of rain. The power was out. Mr. Big Food had decided that he was ambling along so well that he was going to return to working at his farm table in the Bunkhouse. I got the internet back up and running, got him a lantern, and helped him get situated. I then decided to pull the curtains to let in a little natural light. I was at one of the back windows which faces the “yard” and scrub woods when out of the corner of my eye I saw what– had it actually been a deer– looked like the biggest deer I’d ever seen.
That’s right. Jack was standing in the muddy back yard.
Isn’t that interesting? And what’s a body to do about this?
Pretty amazing how quickly one can think when one’s donkey is wandering around one’s back yard in the rain. Got some carrots, found the bridle thingy, went out again to discover he’d wandered behind the Apartment.
Fortunately, he’s a pretty good guy and at the mere mention of carrots, he came trundling toward me, got one, then followed close behind me through the gate and into his pasture.
Yay! Me! Wonder how he got out?
Thirty minutes later, I looked out to see if I could see him, and indeed I could. Standing right next to the propane tanks on the side of the house.
Thinking quickly, again, I determined that returning him to the Pond Pasture– his pasture– was probably pretty futile especially since we still have no idea how he got out other than that he may have been spooked by some thunder and jumped the fence.
And so, I give you
Not as dramatic as a herd of horses escaping, though.
I’ve recently purchased a few n-in-1 items, and returned one because I did not understand how it qualified as an n-in-1 item. Which got me pondering on the meaning of n-in-1, and &/or.
&/or is a very convoluted concept whose meaning(s) change depending on the domain of inquiry. Mr. Big Food and I have heated arguments about this several times each year. Neither of us ever changes his/her mind and so we move on. (Thank The Good Lord Almighty we both have the same conception of the Oxford comma!)
Let’s think about some n-in-1 items so that we may gain a thorough understanding of what’s at issue– and at stake.
A phone (not a landline) is the ultimate n-in-1 thing. It does a whole bunch of stuff and you can do a lot of that stuff all at the same time– where same does not necessarily mean exact instant in time but pretty close. Mr. Big Food calls me to ask what your number is, I say hang on, push a button, then another, and then tell him I’ve just texted it to him. Again, I’m taking the individual actions of answering, talking, looking at contacts, and so forth in linear time using my phone for all of them. One the other hand, one could listen to music while checking a weather app. So my sense is that no one would disagree that the phone is an n-in-1 thing.
A multi-tool, even one as simple as the one-piece Gerber Shard, is another. I can’t really conceive of using its multiple tools at the same instant in time, but it’s also the case that I do not give up the functionality of the flathead screw driver just because I have a knife blade open.
A power strip with multiple AC and USB ports, a pasta cooker with steamer basket, a file hub that transfers files and also functions as a power bank and wifi router, shampoo + conditioner in one bottle– all of these strike me, at least at the level of common sense, as being legitimately n-in-1 things. One thing, though it may be of several parts, that facilitates your doing n1 & n2 & possibly n3, n4, … nn all at or near the same point in time.
Critically, you do not surrender the thing’s potential for n1 just because you are at this instant using that thing as n2.
Or is different. I’m arguing that or things do not qualify as n-in-1 things.
A sofa that converts to a bed is not, IMHO, an n-in-1 thing. It is either a sofa or it is a bed. It cannot easily be flipped back and forth. Sure, as a sofa it still has the potential to be a bed. But consider how much work is involved in realizing that potential. Clear some space, pull it out, get the sheets and pillows… . Oh wait! I need a sofa right now!
The same sort of reasoning leads me to declare that a wet/dry shop vac is not n-in-1. If operated in dry mode you’ve got to empty it (unless you want a disgusting mess), find the wet filter, take it apart put the filter on… . Either dry or wet.
And on it goes. A baby’s highchair to– eventually– toddler work chair and table workstation, blanket to pillow, paracord bracelet to length of paracord. None of these is n-in-1, according to me.
Alas, the folks who write Amazon blurbs did not consult with me.
It was delicious. Here’s the recipe along with some narrative from The Master Chef.
I took a break and stumbled across this under the sub-head: Ladies and Gentlemen, Our Betters
I swear, at first I didn’t get it. Duh. Kyle Kulinski has no idea what an aerial view of farmland looks like.
[Smiles. Shakes head. Returns to cleaning toilets and vacuuming up Missy fur.]
Reposted from September, 2015 with good reason. We are back to Marica Cooks Monday and this is what I’ll be cooking today. A big Food Favorite fall stew. Enjoy!
Yesterday I mentioned the start of Fall Squirrel season, which in Mississippi runs from the first of October to the last of February. That of course brought to mind Brunswick stew. Fortunately, Mr. Big Food has several Brunswick stew recipes in his Big Food Manual and Survivalist Flourishing Guide.
One of the fun things for Mr. Big Food to do as he’s culling recipes from
crappy old cookbooks is to include a bit of the preamble that appears along with the recipe. Preamble– you know, the part that precedes the recipe and says, “This is Aunt Martha’s favorite!” or “”Makes an excellent Sunday supper.” The crappy old cookbook from which this recipe comes is the classic “>The Gold Cook Book (1947) by Master Chef Louis P. De Gouy. The Master Chef preambles a lot! And every word is worth reading.
Here we go… .
Note. After all is said and done, squirrel meat must have a big part in the pot.
Brunswick stew, luscious prelude to plantation barbecues and all major festivals of the Southland’s spacious hospitality, is a hazardous subject for a writer, and may provoke a fortnight’s newspaper controversy; yet the reasonably orthodox formula will have its defenders, for it all depends on the circumscribed tradition of States or counties and even of parishes.
This writer was greatly ridiculed in the uplands of Mississippi for mentioning chicken in relation to Brunswick stew, though the historic recipes of Georgia and the Carolinas call for it as an essential ingredient. But chicken, say the Mississippians, is a feeble substitute for squirrel meat, which is as necessary as corn and tomatoes and okra—and there you are again, for okra is not even mentioned in some of the recipes that are engrossed on parchment in the archives of two or three Atlantic States.
Squirrels, however, are extremely prominent in the fauna of Mississippi, and literally drop from the trees like ripe apples whenever there are men and boys and guns. There the cook and homemaker may buy dressed squirrels in quantity from street peddlers any day of the week.
At a barbecue in one of the Gulf States the stew is ladled out of a cauldron half the size of the Great Tun of Heidelberg and after two or three bowls of it you proceed to the mass attack on whole quarters of beef, whole calves and pigs, turkeys and geese, all roasted in pits of smoking embers. Between the courses light hors d’oeuvres are passed around, consisting of more squirrels, broiled chicken, partridge, quail and pigeons—and a few roasted ’possums. At last, when you languish, gasping and groaning on the greenward, watermelons, cantaloupes, rich cakes, and pastries and ices are served, and something like euthanasia is attained.
In New York it must usually be chicken instead of squirrel, and the season may force you to use canned vegetables; but if the canned corn is of the finest, tenderest sort, all will be well; and the stew is a glorious success at little diners on winter evenings.
Try as many variations as you please and use even beef, veal or pork along with the chicken, and you will still have Brunswick stew, for they are all included in authentic recipes from every section of Dixie. Also you may add diced potatoes, rice, or noodles; and hearty folks of the Old Dominion put a glass of good sherry or Madeira into their stews to give an agreeable tang. In Louisiana they may tell you, in good faith, that you are already so close to gumbo, that a little gumbo filé powder will do no harm; and it does give a rich consistency to a stew without seriously altering the flavor.
GUMBO FILE POWDER. Gumbo is quite another story, but lest we forget, you really ought to get a jar of the filé powder at one of the few New York shops that keep it.
Dried sassafras leaves are pulverized to make the rich green flour, but the flavor is bland and delicate. If you add it to any mixture that is still on the fire you will have a sorry mess or a ropy glue; but stir it in after the kettle is taken off the range and the result will be perfect and delightful.”
For your first Brunswick stew, stick to fundamentals, using chicken or squirrel, and know the dish in its essential lusciousness of tender meat and fresh vegetables. Afterwards you may experiment with variations and settle on a formula of your own. Any gracious lady or experienced memory from the South will tell you it’s all wrong, but you’ll never find two Southerners who can agree on Brunswick stew, fried chicken or spoon bread.”
The Leg of the Chicken for Mother. She was a mother who always ate the neck of the chicken. The family grew to think it was her favorite piece and save d it for her at reunions and church suppers.
This went on for years until one Christmas the mother helped herself to a leg of chicken with thigh attached and the family passed away from shock.
Moral. Cook more than one chicken.
And now to the recipe for Brunswick Stew of Old Dixie which the Master Chef says, “The consistency should be that of rich soup, but sometimes the broth is thickened slightly with a roux (flour and butter or fat browned together) or some fine bread crumbs.”
Cob Oregon Muse writes,
As I suggested in the title, I have no idea where the pic is from. But you can tell it’s a great used bookstore because it looks so ramshackle and disorganized, it would take you hours to find what you’re looking for, and that’s a feature, not a bug.
November 2. Started this, and several other posts, within the last week or two. Figured I might as well finish them up while I wait for Mississippi State to start getting beat, again.
What I’m going to take issue with is “enjoy.” I don’t think they really enjoy it at all. I have little experience with teens, but I do have a lot of experience with 20-somethings and I can’t imagine the situation is radically different among that cohort compared to teens.
I was in the parking lot of Walmart the other day preparing to leave. The car in front of me backed out, and so did the car next to it. So– TWO (2) empty spaces in front of me. I started to drive forward and out of nowhere came this car zooming into the space. We both just stopped. Recall I said there were two (2) empty spaces. In the world in which I live, the driver of the car would have backed out, readjusted, and pulled into the other empty space.
Then again, I was in Starkvegas and that’s not what happened. After a few moments of standoff, the driver pulled further forward all the while flipping me off and shouting. So I backed up, looked at her tag, rolled down my window, waited through a few more obscenities, and said, “The Texans I know have better manners than you.” (It’s true.)
To which this 20-something young woman responded, “Then go play with them.”
She got out and was followed by a scraggly little piss ant of a male. Now she is crossing the street part of the parking lot in front of me. I see her bend over and pick something up from the sidewalk. She turns to the piss ant and starts screaming and flailing around– like a freaking temper tantrum the likes of which I have not seen in anyone older than a pubescent 14 year old.
One of them had dropped his or her freaking phone.
I had been pissed but at that point– when I realized all the fuss was about a phone— I laughed out loud.
These are not the sort of folks who enjoy much of anything.
National Geographic Volume XXXVI Number Five, November, 1919
Not a pleasant story at all. And quite the contrast to the first half dozen or so pages of advertisements.
Here’s the last sentence, spoken by the author’s traveling companion, a doctor, as their ship departed Ararat:
“God bless America,” he said; “for America, with God’s help, will do it.”
via Powerline’s The Week in Pictures
Some good ones up at Powerline’s The Week in Pictures.
Today is the first in the last 27 days that I am alone at The Farm. That’s right! That Hip Gimp, Mr. Big Food, has resumed almost normal activities and has returned to campus all by himself. And I’m left here contemplating the fact that, no, I am not going do a month’s worth of passed-over drudge work today. I’m takin’ it easy.
It’s Raggedy Ann & Andy. Enjoy!