Stuff

Since it's the super bowl weekend I need to rush out this afternoon and purchase the ingredients for my World Famous Stephens' Irish Kickass Salsa. (Trademarked) It's traditional. I could care less about the football game. The commercials are often funny, sometimes even entertaining. The game for me is just an excuse to make myself sick with chips and salsa.

Prep time is approximately an hour. I only use fresh vegetables with a base of canned tomatoes. The salsa must be allowed to stand overnight in the coolness of the refrigerator. When one dips a chip (I prefer Nacho Cheese.) and it stands without waver the salsa is ready to eat. Children, lipstick women, gays, liberals, the elderly sick, and metrosexuals need not apply. My salsa will kill 'em dead right there....

I'm serious when I say I could give a rat's butt about the football game. However, if firearms were introduced to the game, well, different story. Think about it.

*****

I'm very aware there has been an oversight to respond to a few comments for those post I've written in the past. I will make every effort to correct this lack of my attention to detail. A few months back my mind took a deep dive into a black hole of depression. During this period I set aside all things internet related except for the mundane and that related to my actual business.

Give me time and I'll search and correct this oversight. For a while there I felt like Snoopy without his parachute.

*****

While searching my bookshelves last evening I came across my copy of Angela's Ashes, a first edition, and decided to give it a second read. Two hours into the book I grew a hunger...needed food. The book will do it to you, their hunger triggers a need to feed. If you don't believe me, read the book.

Besides, its a great piece of literature.

*****

Remember Tommy? He came in this morning to remind me he'd be back next Monday for his firearms. While we chatted he noticed an old eastern European military rucksack I've had on a hook on my back door for months. I've a gross of 'em. Use them for packing light articles, junk, stuff, handguns, tools, to the shop. He wants it. Asked if it had a price and I said, just take it. He refused.

Cup of coffee later he turns to me and said, "Hey, Stephen, listen here. 'Member those old pocket knives I mentioned last time I was here?"

"Yep."

"Listen, what if I swap 'ya for them there old pocket knives. I must have a box full in storage."

I told him fine, we'd trade my old rucksack for his pocket knives.

I like Tommy. This could turn into an interesting deal. I hope the box of knives are all branded Old Timer.

Yeah, right.

Stephen

Highly Recommended

A couple of nights back I made fajitas. I used a new salsa. I fell in love.

Not the greatest picture in the world. This is a shot of my butcher block where I laid the jar on its side but I think you can read it. The brand is 'Mateo's.' The taste is great. I purchased the jar at Costco. Yes, for you poodle walkers out there it is organic. Trust me, try it.

Stephen

Bits and Pieces

I've really lost track of time. Read the local rag this morning and it was filled with articles about the Super Bowl. It's played Sunday? Really? And here I am without the ingredients for my world famous Irish kick-ass salsa, and incapable of shopping for same. I suppose I'll need to make a list and have Sweet Wife sally forth. By the way, it's the only football game I ever watch. Now, if firearms were part of the game...I'd be all over it.

I'll need fresh tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, fresh (or pickled) jalapenos, cilantro and other spices. I'll make a base (or rather give instructions to Sweet Wife) of canned tomatoes, to which you should add small amounts of the above and blend into a smooth tasty mess. The vegetables will be chopped and folded into the base along with your basic salt, pepper, coriander seeds, and Tabasco sauce...enough to make a grown man cry. It should be spicy enough to kill the weak, elderly, and all liberals, lip-stick women and metrosexuals.

I make two batches. Place in the refrigerator over night. It should be thick; you should be able to place a chip (I prefer Doritos, the cheese favor really works well with the salsa) into the salsa and it should stay erect. The salsa will gel. The chip is nothing more than a spoon for the salsa.

I've made this salsa for at least thirty-five years. It's so good I once watched my sister eat it with tears streaming down her face...she'd bite, cry, fan her face, dip and bite...I said, "Sis, if it hurts, quit." She took another bite. 

The file picture above is not my salsa...it appears to 'dry.' The base should be liquid, but dense.

In other news...Sweet Wife has been on a cleaning kick this morning. Our home, for the most part, smells of bleach. Not a dust particle in sight. Even in normal times she's a cleaning demon, but now...God help the person that drops a hair on her tile or carpet. She hovers over me like a hen herding its chicks. Bless her heart. She's so tired and won't admit it.

And, I'm clean shaven. Still have my chin beard and mustache, but the rest of my face is clean. It feels so good. My bread is closely cropped...as I like it. I can't help but rub my face. I'm leaner too. I'm a fairly muscled man, so at least I don't appear as if I've dropped too much weight, but trust me, I have. Feels weird.

I'll have daily nurse visits here at home for the foreseeable future. They call ahead and give me a window of their arrival which should give me a bit of free time. Today they will install a wound vacuum system, portable. A unit which I'm told will allow me to attach it to my belt. Even thought I cannot yet stand and walk a great deal, at least I'm able to move for brief periods. Not sure how I'll sleep with the darn thing. I must wear it twenty-two out of twenty-four hours of the day. It's parasitic.

I'm currently reading 'Deep Winter.' Give it a shot. I haven't forgotten my promise to list the books I read while in the hospital, give me time. Also same for my 'thanks and welcome' post. It will be done. Please be patient with me. (No pun intended)

I wish I could hug all you guys...for the men, a man bump. The ladies...God bless you, you've been so sweet. If it were possible I'd take all of you out to dinner.

I mark the hours until the arrival of my Little Bit. Tick, tick, tick. Wish I had a gift for her. I can't wait until I'm able to begin our morning ride to breakfast and school. I love it when I arrive at my son's house - how she runs out the front door and jumps into my arms. That first sweet squeeze of complete love. The way she cuddles her face into my shoulder. Then the way she feels me in on her nights events. Sometimes she'll have a picture she's drawn for me and how she'll watch for my reaction as I look it over. Of course I always tell her it's a masterpiece.

Just glanced over and found Sweet Wife passed out. She was up and at it at 0500 this morning. Makes me feel so awful she's been forced into the roll of caregiver. I'll never be able to repay her, but I'll do my very best.

 
I'd sure enjoy a day on the range...my trigger finger itches.

At least I'm home.

Stephen