In the previous post, “Everybody else: Sides & fixin’s,” everybody refers to everybody else besides Mr. Big Food. This is how he describes Thanksgiving dinner on the menu posted on the fridge. He’s doing the turkey and two pies. Everybody else… . This has become Tradition.
You’ll note I’m making some changes to the blog. They are not finished, so if you see something that looks off, it’s probably because I had to stop doing what I was doing and tend to Real Life. This will be sticky until I’m satisfied with the total package.
We won. Yeah yeah. The football team won a game. Go Dawgs.
That’s not what I’m talking about.
We won. We won… if I may… BIG.
The food was awesome. We like to play off our opponents’ strengths– in this case South Carolina– and so there was She Crab Soup, and Frogmore Stew in a Corn Muffin (Yea, Kat!). And stuff. Stuffed peppers and tomatoes (Yea, Alix!). And Carolina BBQ. And perloo. That’s how you say it, “Per’-loo.”
(But that’s not how it’s really spelled. It’s really spelled p-i-l-a-u. It is hard to find this on the Internet. It is much easier to wake Mr. Big Food and say, “Hey! How do you spell ‘perloo’?” And if you ask loud enough– and repeatedly– Mr. Big Food will wake from his slumber and say, “P-i-l-a-u.” And the internet will confirm that Mr. Big Food knows what he is talking about with regard to how to properly spell ‘Perloo’.
Everyone really liked the Puppy Dawgs’ table (Yea, Daughter C!) and that we had Dawg water (Yea, Gil!). And a satellite television (Yea, me)!
As I have said, we know how to do this.
BIG thanks to Daughter C, Kat, The J-Man. Andrew. James, the visiting guest speaker. Evan, his wife (I’m no good with names) and their kids who Gil-sat. Carolyn and Tim who guarded the tailgater.
So! What happened in the World today while we were winning?
We’ve recovered nicely from our 48hoursandcounting meltdown (happens every time).
While dining in the Front Room, we’ve casually recapped what we need to do tomorrow morning.
The last of the BBQ is cooling. The ‘perloo’ is chilling. The coofins are packed and ready to go.
The grass is amazing!
And we’ve all turned in early.
G’night. Go Dawgs.
After a full day of dealing with the “support” folks over a 502 error– no, 502 and 504 are not the same; if they were the same they wouldn’t have two different numbers– I am apparently back.
See you soon.
I have the sniffles. Long time followers of Bigfoodetc.com know that I seldom complain (you zip your lip) about my own health. (See? wait for the qualification; you know I’m right. I don’t get sick. And when I do, I don’t complain.)
Anyway– I’m just warning you that I have the sniffles. I’m not used to having the sniffles. The sniffles make me grumpy. They make me want to say cuss words in Wal-Mart– which really ticks me off because I really do not want to be one of those people who utters audible cuss words at Wal-Mart.
I have one hour before I can transition from day- to night-time symptom medication.
A note about that. I don’t do cold & flu medication. I do tea and onions and garlic and naps and think it through that there’s a reason I have a low grade fever and I embrace my low grade fever by wrapping blankets around it. But enough is enough. And so I decided to deceive myself into thinking I *didn’t* have the sniffles by taking some OTC BS.
Anyway– point is I’m grumpy. And I’m going to go walk about the World Wide Web looking for a fight I can win.
Hummm. It really is snowing. Tiger may have to spend the day in his igloo.
Well. I see the robins have arrived. Just letting you know.
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That is all.
The hippyies come to town.
The hippies live in Oxford, Mississippi. Haha.
In the Shade
I keep forgetting to finish up the train of thought about the heat index– it was close to 110° here today.
1. All measurements about temp and humidity are assumed to be in the shade.
That would have knocked your socks off today at about 2pm here on the Farm in Mississippi, wouldn’t it have?
GARDEN UPDATE: I am actually pleased to report the cucumbers are coming to an end, thank the good Lord Almighty. To everything there is a season… . Now onto the blackeyes and okra.
Ahhhh… . The aroma of kernels of corn– popped in a
crappy old hand-cranked popcorn popper over a gas flame– wafting through the HVAC ducts on a mid-July evening.
Daughter C’s come to visit. Can you tell?
I apologize for the silence.
I’ve been running on my backup iComputer and now, back on the Farm with its blazing fast internet connection, it is increasingly difficult to even stay on line for more than 10 minutes at a time on this old iThingy.
So while there has been oodles and oodles of blog-worthy stuff going on, I just haven’t had time.
The food has been excellent, by the way. Lots of things are getting done. Everyone’s working hard. The dogs are well. Tiger is going to get stepped on if he doesn’t find a new place to crash.
I am going to attempt to read some of this month’s
crappy old book of the month and report back.
I didn’t get it all in, but I got enough of it in.
I’m excited for molasses.
Haha. This is the first you’ve realized molasses comes plants, isn’t it?
You should pay more attention.
Also, it was sausage-making day today.
There is nothing quite so good as a good cup of percolated coffee, a fresh from the oven biscuit and a slice of real sausage first thing in the morning.
Garden status report. May Day, 2015.
I repaired the cucumber trellises, re-tilled that little patch, raked it out and drilled the holes for the legs or whatever they are called and Mr. Big Food got him a hammer and before you know it I had cucumbers planted under the cucumber trellises. Also in that patch, dill and a few beans. There’s just a tiny bit of space left and I’m leaning toward zinnias.
All of the tomatoes are in the ground except for the pear and cherry tomatoes.
Wish me luck. I need a good haul this year.