18 March, 2024

The Baileys Cheesecake Takes On The Looks Of An Angel Food Cake

18 March 2024

1011

R. Linda:

Mam is getting old. Yes, indeed she be getting on there I guess. We were all helping out in the kitchen for our big holiday St. Patrick's Day when she took it upon herself to do most of the cooking. She says so we have "authentic" Irish cuisine. That's the excuse like I be some Irish American now who wasn't born on the old sod but here somewhere. I'd like to know when and how this happened. Me birth certificate does not reflect that at all. But SHE insists she be the only AUTHENTIC IRISH in the house. 

I wasn't in the mood to argue with her as I had slipped Baileys in me coffee several times yesterday morning and wasn't in a combative mood. No, I was enjoying the silky taste of the Baileys spiked coffee and thinking how nice a nob of whipped cream would be on top, but then if I did that they'd all know what I was doing and why I was enjoying me cup of joe so much. 

Anyway, Mam made her soda bread and I knew it was done right. I was slouched over the counter slurring me speech at her trying to sound as American as possible just to get a few digs in. She had set up the baked beans to soak the night before and I put those together since I be (according to her) an Irish Bostonian. Don't ask, I think it is because I work there and have been here longer than she, that she is nitpicking. Of course, I could be all wrong and it's age and memory. OR, more likely a cake disaster she was hiding. I dunno.

So with the beans in the pot, baking away in the oven and the coffee all gone, I left her to it. She was going to start a Baileys cheesecake and I thought what could go wrong, she's a baking whiz. Off I took meself to do some work in my home office while the clatter of pots and pans rang out in the not so far distance. 

It was as I was finishing up my work and going on to me email she came in with the mixing bowl and a spatula. 

"Ere' try dis and tell me wot ye tink," she said handing it all over.

Well, not being one to turn down the sweet leftovers, I dug in and begorrah me, it was fecking good! 

"Is this a new recipe?" I asked licking the spatula and thinking about doing the same with the bowl.

"Ay, I found me gran's old recipe and decided to try it."

I had a laugh deep inside of me at that, she never cooks but her own recipes, so this was a first that her grandmother's recipe might be better than her own, and it was, I hate to admit. 

"By da luke of yer face, I cun see yer likes it."

I gave her the bowl and spatula and shook my head enthusiastically.

"Ok den," she mumbled going out.

I sat there not getting email, but dreaming of that cheesecake, I know, I know, I can't help meself when it comes to food. I should be a fat man by now, but alas, still a long, tall, skinny guy. 

As I finally removed myself from food dreams, I was reading an email when I heard in the not so far distance -- cursing. Cursing that would wake the devil it was. Then it got soft and stopped just as I was about to get up and go see what was going on in the kitchen. 

With all quiet on the home front I finished up and an hour later wandered into the kitchen. There was no sign of a cheesecake anywhere. Uh oh. I looked in the refrigerator and notta. I looked on the counter, I even looked in the trash and could not locate el cheesecake. 

Panicking because it was THAT good, I went to find her when she and I almost collided as I was going out of the kitchen and she was coming in. 

"Where be the cheesecake?" I asked in amuck sweat.

"Uhhh . . . about dat," she said looking at the ceiling and rolling her eyes.

"Yeah? Yeah?" I prompted when someone needed to be more forthcoming.

"I poot it in da wrong pan. Dare, I said it."

"Whatyamean?" I was starting to lose it.

"Don't get yer knickers in a twist dare Gabriel, it's in da oven be where it be, but it's in an angel food cake pan. I furgot a springform pan iz da otter owan and used da wrong pan. It will be fine duncha worry none." 

I turned the oven light on and there it was this beautiful golden cheesecake with a funnel in the middle and it looked fine, so I didn't panic anymore than I had already. 

"Uh, how do you put the ganache over that?" I wondered out loud.

"Not to worry," she said shooing me out.

I left wondering how she could mistake an angel food pan for a springform. Even I know the difference and that's saying a lot. 

Well, she fretted most of the day, whispering to Tonya she wasn't sure the cheesecake would not fall to pieces and maybe she should leave it in the pan, but then there is the ganache that goes over it, oh what to do, I tell ya! 

No matter what my wife suggested, she was still worried. Finally, when I was out of sight the two of them got the cheesecake, acting like two leprechauns up to no good. As Tonya used a knife to un-wedge the cake from the pan, Mam got a platter, actually two platters. With great care (I was spying from the lounge), Tonya upended the cake onto the platter and it slid gently onto the plate. At this, they looked at each other with big smiles and clapped their hands quietly. Then with equal care, Tonya took the other platter and turned the cheesecake right side up. And there you have it, a cheesecake with a hole in the middle!

Because Mam was flustered she made her ganache a bit lumpy, but she poured it over the top anyway. There was a chocolate cookie crumb crust that held it together (miracles of miracles), so when I tasted the concoction I thought it had too much chocolate. I will mention that to her if she serves this again from the right pan, to not pour the ganache over the top, but spoon a bit over the top when a piece is cut. No, I haven't told her that yet. Her feelings are all too raw at the moment. She is still muttering to herself about it.

In total, the meal was a success. It was all delicious. Here take a gander as they say in New England.

Making boozy Shamrock Shakes for the adults

Potato soup in the making, yum?

Mam's soda bread

Baked beans

Bangers and mash

And there it is -- Baileys Cheesecake disaster BUT it tasted good

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved



03 March, 2024

An Irish American St. Patrick's Day

 03 March 2024

1110

R. Linda:

It is almost THAT time again! Yes, when I can smell the potato soup bubbling on the stove, the baked beans in the oven, the Irish Stew getting savoury and me tastebuds are screaming, "Let's eat NOW!"

I can picture me sweet little apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam kneading the soda bread, me wife busy with dessert a Bailey's Creme something if she doesn't drink it all first. The kiddos clambering about the forthcoming shamrock shakes and I am in dream heaven sipping what's good for me, a frothy Guinness stout. 

Ah yes, St. Paddy's Day be a-comin' and I am all anticipation. And why? Well, could be the fact I was invited last night to an Irish American pre-St. Patrick's Day dinner and it was not as Irish as I had hoped. I was looking forward to all me favourites I was, the soda bread, the Jameson shots, the bangers and mash, Colman's hot mustard, a whiskey cake, foods like that. But that's not what I was served, no indeed it was not.

Here let me start you at the beginning. As I said I was all hot to get to the dinner that was buffet style in a heated barn turned into a Martha Stewart living space at a neighbour's. Now this neighbour has an Irish last name, O'Bannon and says his great-great-great grandfather and grandmother were from Ireland. Where in Erin they are from no clue, he just knows from Ancestry. com it says on certain documents the names of his grandparents and born where: Ireland!

So he has been in this country, well let me correct that, he, was born in this country and is third generation American. WITH an Irish last name. His only knowledge of the old sod is St. Patrick's Day and he thinks everyone on the island celebrates it. Not so as you know. Up north not so much. He is sure he's from the Republic somewhere and has never been to Ireland, but he's from there. His family is, he's from here. I don't correct him, I just listen to the inaccuracies and let it all go. 

He thinks he can imitate me accent and oh my but he sounds like a Scotsman! I haven't the heart to tell him. So it was in the spirit of his Irish American heritage he decided to have a gathering of the clans. Yup, he called it that. I be sure the Goldsteins, the Browoski's, the Van Wycks, the Angelinos, and the Wongs are startled to know they are part of the Irish tribe. No more surprised than yours truly. 

It poured last night it did. We were wet, cold and hungry by the time we arrived. It was a perilous drive too, through mud roads (not all are paved), dark woods (no street lights, this is New Hampshire), and hardly any street signs to guide you in the dark, but somehow we made it sliding into the barnyard and almost hitting the Angelinos as they slip-slided in the mud trying to get to the barn through the deluge. 

Once inside and greeting everyone (we were the last to arrive, we always are fashionably late, not on purpose, but because the kiddos had a million questions as we were going out the door of what they could do and not do. The sillies know this is not necessary they live in the house and the rules haven't changed, but they get some bizarre joy at testing us, thus we are always late), I stood in front of the pot-bellied stove to warm up and was handed a shot of Jameson and that was divine. Good start I thought.

I wandered over to the chips and dip table and chatted away enjoying myself but me stomach was demanding more substantial fare. After a few more chips and sips we were all told dinner was on the table and to help ourselves. Oh boyo boy!

Off I flew and picked up a plate, the desired flatware, a napkin and then . . . and then . . . I looked at the offerings. A huge corned beef with lots of cabbage, French's yellow mustard, no Colman's, boiled potatoes and sourdough bread with Market Basket butter, no Kerrygold butter from the old sod, no it was the supermarket special and it was . . . gulp . . . unsalted. 

"What's the matter Gloomy Gus?" Tonya elbowed me giggling at my reaction.

"You know what," I whispered.

"They have Shepherd's Pie on the other side," she whispered back.

Well, ok then, off I went slapping on my plate a piece of sourdough bread, the supermarket butter, and as I rounded the table I saw the luscious mashed potentates smattered over the Shepherd's Pie and I grabbed the ladle and as I tore into it, I smelled beef! Yes, beef, no lamb it was COTTAGE PIE! Foiled again I was. I can't count how many times I've ordered Shepherd's Pie in an Irish American restaurant and been served Cottage Pie. I was beside meself I was. 

The Cottage Pie was filled with canned peas and carrots, not the real fresh peas and carrots I was used to. Thanks, Mam, you have spoiled me. Nothing fresh about this but I ate it. The seasoning was off but I rather expected that too. It tasted like hamburger with canned peas and carrots covered in mashed potatoes. Even the gravy was scant. 

Americans complain UK and Irish food is boring. Well, when you cook it American style it is. The problem too, is those who go on holiday stay at American tourist traps where the food is prepared American style for the American palate. So in reality Irish Americans just don't know what they are missing unless they go off the beaten track and dine at an authentic Irish restaurant, catering to Irish citizens. 

Oh one other thing, the beer. It wasn't Irish it was English, Newcastle Ale. I rest my case.

My face must have looked very sour when I was handed a bottle of that stuff because me wife came over smiling like a Cheshire Cat and muttered that it could be worse, the O'Bannon's could be serving Black and Tans. Yes, that would have done it. Gabriel then would have broken his silence and given the entire room a history lesson. But Gabriel, me, gave the Newcastle Ale to Morty Goldstein and got a shot of Jameson instead. Yes, the hard stuff R. Linda, I needed something stronger to dull the culinary pain of being subject to fake Irish food.

We have discussed this it's like Mexican food, you go to a Mexican restaurant thinking you are getting the best Mexico has to offer when it is a Mexican food chain prepared American style. I learned that lesson when I lived in California for that short time. I went to an authentic Mexican restaurant in Monterey and almost burned my throat, stomach and intestines out from the heat that was stuffed in an appetiser I can't remember the name of. Probably because I wanted to blur the experience, but I loved it. Then in Colorado after eating fake Mexican enchiladas in Estes Park, I found a real Mexican restaurant run by a Mexican family who brought each dish to the table with a warning on the heat of the peppers. Unlike the Monterey establishment that left me to burn alone without a glass of anything including water, the Colorado Springs restaurant served me a huge pitcher of water with lemons to cut the heat, and Sangria with coconut if I'd rather cut the peppers with alcohol -- they think all Irish are alcoholics. But at least liquid was on the table! And damn that food was good. Of course, I had weird dreams for six months after that's what spicy hot food does to me. 

I said nothing to the O'Bannon's I pretended to enjoy the cuisine and for that, I was told they thought they'd do it again next year. I have a year to figure out an excuse. Oh and don't ask about dessert, we all brought chocolate chip cookies when asked to bring a dessert. The reason I didn't bring an Irish dessert is the same reason I didn't enjoy myself because the American palate likes junk food and to make a Bailey's cheesecake and be told it was too alcoholic would have been a waste of Jameson whiskey and well . . . I'd rather drink it.

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved


14 February, 2024

Valentine's Day Gift Twist

14 February 2024

1109

R. Linda:

I came down this morning to dog poop everywhere. Not only that, BUT me Mam's new kitten decided that if the dog could poop anywhere it wanted, so could Mr. Kitten. I had six messes which when you add the cat, twelve in total to clean up. The dog's excuse was I went to bed early (I wasn't feeling well) and no one, and I mean no one in the abode thought to let el doggy out before they retired. Therefore, what was he to do? As for that cat, I have no clue what his excuse was, but it might have looked fun? 

So that's how I started the day. Now I told you about the tulip crisis prior and I did mention it to Mam and showed her the proof in pictures. She told me to go back the week of Valentine's Day and check for fresh tulips, she was sure that was just a fluke. Righto!

No tulips but something more remarkable Christmas in February. See here:



Yes, Christmas cypress plant for Valentine's Day with an ornament to boot! And Red Bull to drown out the yelling when you present it to the Valentine girl


OR:

Christmas cypress with snowmen -- your choice! Balloon thrown in to dull the pain your ears will be experiencing upon presentation

I was gobsmacked I was. So I bought her one with a snowman and we'll see how big that goes over. 

Needing all the luck to stay alive tonight, 

Gabe
Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved

04 February, 2024

Valentine Tulips...a little dried out and way over their due date

04 February 2024

1108

R. Linda:

Well, I guess it's never too late to buy tulips. Yes, indeed. I was at the chemist to pick up some Valentine's Day chocolates and usually they run out if you don't buy early, and well one-stop shopping and all that appeals to this Irishman. So I ran in and got three small Valentine's chocolate hearts for the kiddos (small because chocolate wires them up and well . . . you get the picture), and two big ones for the wife and the Mam. I usually buy tulips for me Mam so she doesn't feel left out and the tulips sell fast so I get them early. I went to the front of the store where the tulips usually reside and what did I find? THIS: 

Long Life Tulips from 2018

Uhhh . . . Seriously? I had me pick of red or yellow. There were five nicely dried-out and dead plants to choose from for the price of $9.99 each (what a bargain, right?). The roots had water in the slot below which gave me pause. A couple of petals were dropped on the counter making me wonder how it was the others hadn't dropped all the petals after that amount of time. More importantly, why were they there in the first place? It is 2024, and these certainly looked like they were leftover from what the sign said 2018. Long life? I don't think so.

As you may guess I didn't buy one. Though I was tempted, I wasn't sure Mam would get the joke, instead, she might be chasing me around the house threatening to dump them on my head, so I refrained (hard as that was). I ended up buying none. She has a tulip garden and plants her Valentine's Day, Mother's Day and Easter tulips every year in the ever-expanding tulip garden. She isn't much for cut flowers, so I had been counting on early tulips. 

The florist is where I get roses for the wife, and I do that on THE day, her favourite, Valentine's Day. I will have to see if they have any planted tulips (usually they have the cut ones). If I am unable to find tulips with the bulbs I don't know what I will do. Perhaps a tulip IOU. Yes, that's the ticket. 

Anyway, I thought I'd share another mishap in the great state of New Hampshire. I tell ya, from dumpster diving to shooting your son's girlfriend, to locking the door from the police (and you only the babysitter), to dead tulips, it's never dull up here in snowman land. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved


30 January, 2024

Trapped In Trash OR Accidental Dumpster Diving

30 January 2024

1107

R. Linda:

How is this possible I ask you? Just the other day, a woman fell into a trash bin and subsequently when the trash truck arrived, she and the trash she was surrounded with, were unceremoniously dumped and then compacted 4 times before the trash truck driver heard screaming and looked at the camera that showed him a woman in the trash. I know, only in New Hampshire right?

She said she fell into the dumpster while dumping her trash. Now, I've seen this happen on America's Funniest Videos (AFV) and know it can happen. Usually, the person can get out, but this was a dumpster, not a large heavy-duty plastic trash bin. I would surmise she didn't have the strength to lift herself out once she was in. The covers of dumpsters can be heavy especially if there is wet snow on top, and I am assuming this may have been the reason she couldn't get out, but I am surmising here. 

The offending dumpster

If the side is open and not locked (I don't see locks anywhere) how is it she couldn't get out? Unless she's short like your diminutive self maybe she couldn't reach the opening on the side? Or, was she making merry and in her cups so maybe she was incapacitated in that way? I don't know the why of it, but that side window, well is it that hard to slip out of? Or, like me wee one suggested, she was just keeping warm. OR, like the middle child suggested she was looking for a meal? Uh-huh.

The driver had the presence of mind to call 911 when he saw through a camera located inside the truck the screaming victim. 

Slam Dunk!

Can you imagine being trapped in that smelly trash then being raised high in the air, to tumble out with all that stinky stuff into more of it below? That be what nightmares are made from. Forget the compacting adding insult to injury.

First responders arrived to extricate the woman from the garbage. They had to bring in a crane to get her out because obviously she was injured.

The ambulance was pulled up in front of the trash lorry

A basket gurney on the crane had to be lowered into the trash to retrieve her. 

How embarrassing is this?

The woman was taken to hospital where it was said she was treated for minor injuries and would be fine. Let's hope so, but think of the nightmares she'll have. OR, as the middle child suggested, think of the story she can tell her grandchildren on a snowy night in front of the fire. O K then.

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved

25 January, 2024

Christmas Mischief

25 January 2024

1106

R. Linda:

Christmas has been over, decorations put away, the credit card is recuperating, and all would seem right with the new year. However, there was one thing we couldn't find. We have (like many families) an elf on a shelf. Our elf is handmade by me sainted, little apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam. It was just last week that Tonya remembered she hadn't seen the elf to be put up until next year's Christmas spying season. She asked me covertly if I had put him up. I did not put him up and yes, now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen him.

She asked Mam on the side if she had seen the elf. No, no she had not come to think about it. Hum. Well, we went to the attic and looked to make sure he wasn't up there because maybe Mam had a memory lapse (she is getting on) and perhaps he was up there and she just didn't remember. Nothing turned up that wasn't supposed to be there, but Mr. Elf On A Shelf was decidedly not among the ornaments.

This morning there was a delayed opening at school, so remembering the missing elf I asked each one separately if they had seen him. The eldest and the middle child know he is a decoration but the youngest thinks he really has a direct line to Santa. I knew the middle child, Guido had been throwing the elfster around (Elfster- Guido's name for him) so I was suspicious he had him hidden somewhere just to spring him on the wee one at Easter. Guid is a jokester if ever there was one. Well, no, Guido said, he hadn't seen him but thought the wee one was the last to be seen with the elfster.

I ran into O'Hare on his way to college (yes, can you believe it! The young kiddo graduated high school in January and has started college, so proud of him), and he said he didn't know anything about the elf's whereabouts.

That left the wee one, who denied any knowledge of the elf but had lots of ideas where he had gone. Like he returned with Santa on Christmas Eve to the North Pole, or, he got thrown out with the wrapping paper (oh, dread the thought), or he got tired of being a spy for Santa and retired. Un-huh.

Well, just an hour ago, Mam was getting a few canning jars to make some jam, when what did she come across? This:

Yes, the youngest jammed the elfster in a Mason Jar

Yes, way back on the deep dark shelves of the back pantry was this poor crushed elfster. The wee one was guilty of elfacide! The logic was if he's sealed in a jar he can't spy and blab to Santa what mischief the wee one is up to around the holidays. 

I tell ya, kiddos have ingenious methods to their madness. I'd never have thought to do such a thing. No, really I wouldn't. Well, maybe I would.

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved

20 January, 2024

Something Gross Made Me Think What Kind Of World Do We Live In

20 January 2024

1105

R. Linda:

There are times you have not a thought in your head, but whatever that inner voice is babbling on about is all nonsense and you can feel the time is wasted with these self-conversations. That was my condition as I waited for me Mam to get out of her medical appointment. I had gone with her because she was a wee bit stressed. She needed a shoulder and I wanted to be it for her. She was stressed that the appointment would be bad news, and it turned out not to be. 

While I was sitting in the car waiting (the waiting room is usually packed so I opted out) I smelt rather than saw this man walk by me. He had a funny gait like his posterior hurt. I took a double-take because of the amount of faecal matter he was sporting on his behind. I could only think he was a homeless person who had no use for a loo or worse was denied one.  


I don't know his circumstances and if he doesn't mind his being down and out, or if he is in dire straits because of it. I do know this is a worldwide problem and I wish instead of funding war machines, we could help those of us who can't help themselves. Don't get me wrong I understand the funding of war in other places to keep the world safe, but is it as important as our own living on the edge of society in a hopeless mishmash of circumstances they can't control? 

I went home that day and instead of contributing to a candidate, I contributed to our local soup kitchen to at least keep the food coming for those who have none. This is a problem in many countries, not just this one. I do hope we get a candidate that gives a damn about us and not themself. I already know who I am voting for in the primary. I just hope that the official candidate is the one I have high hopes for. That person is smart, experienced and likeable. Their ideas for a new way forward are solid and they are steady in their determination to improve our lot. 

Anyway, I hadn't seen any homeless persons while out and about until Mam's appointment. There was another who was sitting on a bedspread by the side of the town library. I was stopped for the light and a policeman made his way over to the fellow. He had a bag from MacDonald's and a drink. These he handed to the man with what looked like a few words of encouragement, and I was wowed. What a solid gesture for a fellow man. Now I have seen a few more homeless on me way to the appointment and back, and I can imagine how tough it is. I had to stop to let one man with a wash bucket holding what I assume were his worldly belongs, cross. I wonder now if I had run up to that man if he would have accepted my help, or he might not have been receptive. So the best I can do is hope someone else helps him and others like him but I can do my part in any way I can. So my donation is a start. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved

17 January, 2024

Did I Just Lose Time?

 17 January 2024

1104

R. Linda:

Not to dwell on the birthday, BUT, the day we were going to celebrate it with family and friends, the wife and the Mam wanted me out of the house so they could "decorate." Gees, you'd think I was a mere child of 10 or perhaps getting on up to one of those milestone birthdays (which is NEXT year). I did remind them of me turning a certain age and they said they knew, but would I go to the grocery store and get the food for the week?

It was a sunny blue-bird day and I got meself to the grocery store 45 minutes away. I had the list Mam gave me and was feeling pretty darn good I had gotten everything on it. I estimate it took me 40 minutes to complete the task. I had been at the back of the store and as I wheeled my cart to the checkout I noticed through the big windows at the front, that it was dark outside, like 6 o'clock dark. I stopped in my tracks and looked at my watch but I wasn't wearing it. Then I remembered me phone was in the car so I had no clue what time it really was!

Wow, everyone was coming at 5 and I must be very, very late! I got in line and started putting the food items on the conveyor belt and as I looked out the giant windows I realised there was swirling snow and gusting winds pummeling the windows. It almost looked like a developing tornado. 

But in the back of my mind and with a cold chill running up my spine, I was quite sure I had lost time. 

As I was being checked out I asked the woman bagging what time it was. I had no clue how long I had been in the store, nor when I blacked out and when I did, what I had been doing.

"It is six minutes after 3," she said looking at her watch. 

"No, can't be. Look how dark it is out there," I gestured toward the windows.

"Yes, we have snow squalls until 5," she informed me.

Suddenly every phone in the building set off an alarm, which was a surreal experience. Not having one I looked at the phone of the person next to me in line. There was an alert (a little late) informing everyone that there was dangerous weather occurring until 5:30 to 6:00 p.m. Well no shite Sherlock, I could see it happening outside at that very minute!

"But it is so dark," I muttered to myself totally in awe that day had become night in such a short time. Then I realised I had to drive a long distance in that, out there!

Well, I got to the automatic doors to go out to my car when the doors flew open and a gust of snow and wind hit me and my groceries full on. I had to put some muscle behind me and push to get out the door and into the cold swirling and very dark night.

I could just make out headlights trying to leave the parking spaces and somehow I found me own vehicle and went to open the backdoor when the cart started to meander off on its own in the wind and the dark. I caught it and wedged it between the door and backseat throwing the bagged groceries inside. 

I slammed the door shut and was going to put the cart in the cart retrieval but I couldn't see where that was. While I was standing at the end of my car the cart took off across the parking lot and slammed into the bummer of a truck parked across from me. I checked the bummer it looked ok but the cart was dented in on its front from the wind force. Having no time for this I saw the retrieval area and started for that but the wind got the best of the cart and it took off out of my hands hitting cars as it bumped its way into oblivion.

I was sure I was in a tornado now, thinking in the darkness and the whirling snow I would be carried off never to be seen again or celebrate another birthday. I somehow came upon me car and strained to open the front door. Once I got it to give, it flew open hitting the number pole I was parked next to. Oh crap! Did that dent the door? I was going to look when the door decided to start closing so I jumped out of the way not to get crushed. I couldn't see any dent in the dark, so I went to open the door again, but it wouldn't open!

Had I triggered the inertia alarm? I put my foot on the back door and yanked on the front door handle with all I had in me and nothing. I went around to the front passenger side and I got that to open, but it opened with a force that made me slip on the ice that was forming on the pavement. I literally crawled inside when the door decided to slam shut, nearly severing my foot from me ankle.

I caught a look at myself in the rearview mirror and me hair was sticking out at all angles, me nose hairs were frozen (such a strange sensation), and I was shaking with cold or maybe fright, I didn't know!

With the roaring wind and snow pummelling the car I climbed over the centre console and into the driver's seat. I started the ignition and the headlamps came on but I couldn't see a freaking thing. I turned it off and decided to sit it out.

Instead of the weather improving, it got worse and I could feel the whole car shaking. The glass bottles in the grocery bags were rattling and that wasn't the only thing rattled. My brain was not quite knowing what to do. Should I run back inside or stay put? Well, that decision was made for me when several empty shopping carts rammed into my vehicle. I thought it was going to be one hell of a dented, expensive repair, but what could I do? If I got out of the car to try to fend the carts off I could easily be run over by them and killed. Yup, the mind works in strange ways when one is in panic mode.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I saw a few cars slowly finding the exit so I started my car and somehow got into line. Now we're talking I said to myself. I could easily follow the red lights in front of me and being mindful of sudden stops make it home in one dented piece.

This worked well until we came to the stop sign. When it was my turn I could not see for the life of me if anyone was coming. I finally chanced it and made it to the line of red lights waiting for the traffic light to change where we would all be on my road home. I pulled up, and as soon as the light went to green everyone in front of me started off slowly, me and fifteen other brave souls making up the rear.

Now I live in a forest and I have maybe six miles of highway before entering the larger scope of the forest to get home. Do know there are no street lights in most of New Hampshire, and the forest has none. So my whole hope was gauged by those red lights in front of me. However, when we got up to the last road leading away from the forest road, those red lights all turned off leaving Moi as the lead car to what was now twenty cars behind me all creeping along at 5 MPH in swirling snow, heavy battering wind and yes, DARKNESS. 

It was darker than dark now, the roads were snow-covered so it was hard to see where the road ended and the ice-covered winding river that bordered the road began. I did the best I could for about two miles when I decided to get one of the cars or all of the cars behind me to pass me so I could follow them. I put my blinker on and slowly crept to what I hoped was the shoulder of the road and not the river. I stopped and looked in the rearview to see everyone behind me had put their blinker on and had pulled over!

I threw my hands in the air in perplexed despair as to what to do now. I had enough food to stay put for a week. I even had visions of the other drivers getting out of their vehicles and surrounding my car, demanding food if we weren't going any further. I know crazy, but that's what this bizarre situation was doing to my head.

"FECK!!!" I shouted to no one and put the damned car in gear and flipped on my left blinker easing slowly out with everyone else behind me doing the same. I tell ya! Slowly I inched, up the hills and down the dales with maybe five cars turning off, but the majority were on their way to my house. Or, so it seemed in my crazed mind.

The uphill was rough, me sliding and skidding here and there, they all doing the same, but the hope was if I went off the road they'd stop and pull me out . . . yeah who am I kidding, they would keep on going and leave me. Sigh.

Somehow I made it to the top of my driveway and as I pulled in, the freaking sun came out of nowhere like I had reached the Emerald City. There was no one behind me as I slip-slided my way down the long driveway, barely avoiding a header into the pond, and miraculously to the house. I had made it. 

I unloaded all the groceries, oblivious to any decorations or what time it really was now. I wanted only to crawl into a ball and take a nap. I had had it. Day DONE and DONE and DONE again. 

It wasn't until the next day I went and looked at my car. It had nary a dent, just some minor paint damage, so that was good. I have no clue what I lived through, but that was one time too many. 

Anyway, temps went up melting snow and ice sufficiently that the party took place and all the weirdness was shoved to the back of my mind. I haven't done the shopping since and it be a cold day in hell before I do. Happy Birthday to me from the Fate called WHITEOUT. Hopefully, she won't be back anytime soon.

Gabe

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16 January, 2024

The Non-Stop Birthday

 16 January 2024

1103

R. Linda:

With snow storms and rain storms turning to ice storms, it's been a bit of a tumble around me house. On me birthday the ladies of the house were far behind on birthday festivities for yours truly because of the weather. I knew all was in a jumble and told them it was fine, we should celebrate me day on another day, but no, they wouldn't hear of it, but I persisted so on THE day, Guido had a wrestling match and I said that would be gift enough to go to the smelly gym and watch Guid flex his muscles and take down an opponent. And that's what happened. Afterwards, we went to MacDonald's, Tonya's treat. We ordered and the lady told us to pull up at the first window. We did. There was no one there. We pulled up to the second window where we were given our food and drink order almost immediately with have a nice day shouted us and a hand wave to keep on moving!

"Weren't we supposed to pay for all this?" I asked the wife who looked totally confused. 

"It's yer birthday!" Mam said being handed a cheeseburger. "It's free!"

"But they don't know it's my birthday," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, it's too late now, you'll just confound them more you go in and say "Hey, here's some bucks to pay for our food." They won't miss it anyway and the lady told you to drive off." Guido said with a mouthful of Big Mac.

I wasn't driving and I couldn't get them to go back they were chowing down all the way home, they were "tired" and reassuring me if I drove down the next day and offered to pay they'd think I was a nutter.

What to do? I figured next time I would pay it forward and that would make me feel better since I wasn't in control of the situation . . . or driving the car. And, no one was listening to me anyway.

On day 2 of the birthday we celebrated with pizza and cake, a very lovely gushy cake I might add. It is nowhere to be seen because it was consumed completely the very next day . . . burp! I was told what everyone was getting me in the way of prezzies since it seemed everyone forgot a birthday was upon them.

On Day 3 friends and family except for Sean came over. They bought more pizza (so tired of pizza I can't tell you) and beer with a chocolate cake. Yes, the combination takes some getting used to but we ate it all. 

On Day 4 Sean was ready to celebrate the birthday, but he suggested we go out for breakfast to a rather nice establishment three towns away. We did, we trouped back out into the winter chill and had an enjoyable time as we were regaled with Sean's misadventures which made me thank the good Lord I am not Sean. 

Day 5, yes it keeps going, Tonya had made birthday luncheon reservations for us at our favourite little bistro in the woods and she had taken a personal day. Well, guess what? The kiddos are home and it is snowing! So that's off until Thursday now.

I was gifted with another certificate for the same place by Mam and we have decided to put that off until next month. Thus, the birthday will start up again for hopefully the last time next month. 

Stay tuned.

Gabe

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11 January, 2024

Four Seasons In One Day

11 January 2024

1102

R. Linda:

The day before yesterday we were under a winter storm warning that sounded like the fury of hell was about to be unleashed. Extremely strong winds with freezing temperatures, 16 to 18" of snow possible, flooding from overly saturated ground, followed by torrential rain that could leave 4" to 6" of water that could turn to ice over the snow, and the next day sunshine with warmer temps. 

Our weatherman usually gives us the Denver, Colorado weather so we never really know if what he says is true for us. This time it was. Yes, he had a hit after how many years he's been doing the New Hampshire weather which is really the Denver weather? This once!

We heard that there was torrential rain to our south with tornados brewing and water spouts between the southeastern states and the midwestern ones, with snow and ice mixture to the northwest of us. All of it coming our way and turning into snow by the time it gets to us. 

Like every weather watch or warning, the locals left for the local Market Bucket to stock up because we always get power outages and that's the only given ever. The hardware stores put out shovels with all types of handles for those who felt they needed to stock up. Snowblowers were in the larger hardware box stores and the large freight stores had ploughs for your vehicle if you so needed one of those. Oh yes, everyone skurries around like Chicken Little and then nothing comes of it and all these implements of help are returned to the stores the next day . . . until the next snow alarm and it is Groundhog Day all over again. 

Now I have shovels with the usual straight handles, and one each for the three kiddos. I don't have a snowblower because I have a gravel walk and driveway, but I do have a plough, a snow plough on a beat-up old car that is only good for ploughing. The driveway is like two football fields long, and if I don't plough it, we go nowhere. 

I was all set (as I usually am) and half believing the weather predicted would come, but hoping not. Well, we started off with hazy sunshine that turned to ominous dark clouds for most of the morning, which was broken up by big fat snowflakes that the locals tell me are a sign that nothing much will accumulate. That didn't come true because those flakes suddenly disappeared and a steady stream of hail started hitting the roof and decks and this stuff was being bandied about by the winds which were gaining strength. That didn't last long because then we got steady snow all day into the night (accumulation 14") with freezing temps, winds gaining strength (35 to 40 mph and in some cases 60), and if you looked out the window it was a white out until it got dark and then still you could see nothing of what was happening outside.

The electricity started to flicker, I had the presence of mind to get wood in for the fireplace and started that in case the power went out, though I have a generator so that wasn't a big concern. The winds howled like banshees around the house the entire night and let up some the next morning, but then it clouded back up and the wind returned with a vengeance, snow was falling again. I got one lovely next morning photo and twenty minutes later, we were back in the mix. Around 3 a.m. the whistling winds stopped and a pounding was heard on the decks. The rain had come in, and the temps had gone up, but the in-between mess of a mix of snow and rain made ICE! The rain took over the snow and it poured like a tsunami had washed over the land and you could hear the ice crashing off the roof like bombs going off. I tell ya it was not a night of restful sleep.

The next morning the sun was out, the ground was flooded, the snow was melting, and the temperature was getting warm! It was the craziest thing to live through. We had all four seasons at once, including a rainbow in January with snow on the ground. Unheard of. Are we done now? 

Apparently not, more weather coming in Friday into Saturday and mid-week more weather just as horrible and diverse as what we just witnessed. But the locals say it isn't global warming, nah, it's just the way it is. OK then. 

Here are some pics for you:

Snow beginning 

The lull between snow and rain

After the rain, a nice sheet of ice but a RAINBOW

Gabe
Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved

07 January, 2024

First Snow Fall And The Lazy Man's Way Of Dealing With It

 07 January 2024

1101

R. Linda:

Today is the first snowstorm of 2024. Yes, the white stuff is piling up! I be sure that makes your day.


Looking at the pond slowly disappearing

Well, leading up to the storm everyone rushed to the local market to stock up on food. I noticed some of the new folks asking why everyone was doing that and no one answered them. I guess it is a rite of passage for the newbies to find out on their own how it works up here. You get a foot of snow or more and the power goes out. And it stays out. Yup, for weeks sometimes. If you don't own a full-house generator or any kind of generator, you are literally left out in the cold. Everything closes down, no markets, no school, no work, just shovelling to keep warm.

We learned the hard way. We hadn't moved up here more than a month we had a blizzard that shut everything down for three weeks! No fast food restaurants were open either because they had no electricity, and the food all went bad. We had one working fireplace at the time and we learned to cook like early settlers over an open fire. By the time power was restored, we were pretty darn good at old-fashioned survival. 

This led us to get the other fireplaces cleaned, lined and in working order in case it happened again, and it did! We were stocked up on cooking utensils and easy food prep but we weren't really that warm. We had a portable kerosene unit that I used in the old shed outside when I was working on the occasional odd job I needed to fix the house or whatever project. The shed was quite large so this thing heated it very well, only when you started it up, it was like a jet engine where the flames jetted out of the back of it and it burned like a fire. It kept the shed warm, so I bought it in. Yes, I did much to the horror of the wife. 

It looked like this only with flames shooting out the glowing end:

I know it was dangerous and it wasn't this model or make of the one pictured, but similar, and I have it no more to show you, but you get the idea. 

Well, I ran this baby day and night for a week but we were warm on the lower level. I don't think it was meant for a house but we were COLD! The smell of kerosene was in the house for months and the only way we got it out was by replacing everything and in the spring leaving the windows wide open. Tonya went through a slew of oil and scent diffusers, candles, and anything that overpowered the smell of kerosene.

After the flack I got for my creativity in keeping us warm, I went out and bought a portable generator that I had an electrician hook up to me electrical board. Yes, we went out and bought one of these:

Again, not the make and model because I don't have mine anymore, but you get the idea. This you had to pull a cord like you do with a lawnmower to get it to start up and you had to fill it with petrol to get it to go. This is made for outside because the fumes can kill you and many lazy people have died finding this out. It is a pain in the posterior to have to get dressed in heavy jackets and boots to go outside in the middle of a raging snowstorm to refill it, thus the lazy man's bringing it inside hoping the power is restored before the fumes get you. But it works like a gem if you use it properly, except for having to get up in the middle of the night to fill it back up.

Well, a few storms that had me trekking out in a blizzard did it for yours truly. It didn't take another snowstorm for us to go out and buy a full house generator, a unit that sits outside the house permanently and is hooked up to your electricity and depending on how big and powerful the generator is, will give you use of your water, stove and oven, all the lights in your house including the Internet (if it is up and running), and will even keep your outdoor lights on (this annoyed our neighbours who didn't have a big unit). 

So, I bought us one of these:


We bought a Quietsource which is now Generac and what we have at our new home (yes, I learned from the first house, that having one of these was essential). And this unit did EVERYTHING. The fuel came from gas lines that we had already (we heated with gas), and lines were put out to the unit and I didn't have to get up in the middle of the night to pour fuel in it. It just ran by itself and the best was that if the power went out, 30 seconds later the generator kicked on and it was like the power never went out. Yes, it annoyed the neighbours who had all gone out and bought the portable model and had only some electrical hooked up like heat and maybe water. Not us, we had the whole house including the outdoor lights. We were hated I be sure by the entire road. 

The power might go out and our house was lit like a Christmas tree as it usually was and no one was sure if they had power or not until they walked in the door and the light switch didn't work. I was told I was cursed out a lot by me neighbours, but hey, I be a lazy guy naturally and I'd rather spend the money to not have to work so hard if I can help it. That, and I do not like cold weather. Never have, never will. I saved me pennies I did and it was for a good cause . . . ME!

I know this looks like a commercial for generators, but be assured it is not, it is me sharing a little bit of unknown life in Northern New England. If anyone is thinking of moving up this way, make sure you include a generator because it gets really cold, really fast when the power goes out and it goes out often because of snow, high winds, tree branches, and flooding. The other thing, rush to the market to stock up because they too don't all have generators and they will close down and then not only cold but hunger sets in. 

Yup, frontier life isn't the life for me!

Gabe

Copyright © 2024 All rights reserved


01 January, 2024

And then there is Steve

01 January 2024

1100

R. Linda:

Recently, I had lunch at an upscale restaurant in Portsmouth, N.H. I arrived early and decided to have a drink while I waited. I had just been served when one of my lunch buddies (my work associate, Desmond) arrived telling me the other mate would be his usual "fashionably late" self. The late guy was always late and wasn't exactly the type you'd find at an upscale restaurant, but it was the company's treat to all three of us for a job well done in 2023. We had covered a story on a local lawman who had a shady past and was still at his shady ways. The cameraman (Mr. Late), had been an asset to our Bernstein and Woodward reporting so he was included in the company Thank You luncheon. By the time we were being asked if we cared for a second cocktail, our lunch mate was making his way to us, and Desmond leaned towards me and said, "His idea of culture is an undershirt with sleeves, so this get-up we should be thankful for." 

Yes, indeed, there was the hairy man in khakis, a Hawaiian shirt with a tweed sports jacket and some kind of Scottish cap of clashing tartan, forget about the socks that were apparently mismatched as one could plainly see by the Birkenstocks he was sporting. Frankly, I was surprised the restaurant let him in dressed like that. Did I wish I was blind just then, you betcha!

For purposes of protecting the not-so-innocent, I'll refer to him as Steve. Steve noticed our perusal of his clothing choice and informed us he was in a hurry to meet us and it could have been he showed up in his Jim-jams, so as not to make fun (yes, he's British we two are Irish transplants).

Trying hard to ignore the outfit, we were looking at the menu when Steve, muttered, "I don't like livin' in a country where everything rides on what's in one's pocketbook!"

"Get over yourself, you don't live here, and the company's paying," Des muttered back and then turned to me and said, "Where were we before the monkey came in?"

"We were talking about building a cage." I elbowed him and nodded at Steve.

"I beg your pardon?" Steve said from behind the large menu. Steve is temporarily in the States working on an internship, and then back he goes to London. He is a hard person, no other way to put it.

It was then the waiter came to take our order. I went first, Des next and then Steve with a million menu questions holding the orders up. 

"Excuse me, could we get two double scotches because I think we will be here awhile," Des said to the waiter who was nearing exasperation answering Steve's insane questions. Looking relieved the man took our menus leaving Steve studying his. 

"Steve, can you at least pretend to be a human being?" Des asked the hairy young gent.

"Well . . .  Desmond here's the rub, all these bits and bobs are alien to me and when I order I wanna know what I'm chewing on."

I must have looked angry because Des said to me, "I'd be wiping off my fingerprints from around his neck and rehearsing my 911 call by the look of you." And turning to Steve he said, "And if I was you I'd lay down . . .  and play dead."

"The long and short of it is I don't like American food unless it is fried chicken and burgers," Steve said like that was a brilliant excuse for his menu behaviour. "This stuff here makes my brain all sticky. This is enough to make me crack up."

"First off what brain, and secondly, a nervous breakdown and you are not compatible. It is you who give us a nervous breakdown." Des sneered at him. "Pull yourself together and order something when the waiter comes back or don't eat!"

"Aren't you full of Irish sunshine." Steve sneered back. 

The waiter returned with the scotches and finally, Steve had no more questions and ordered. But not like a sane person would order from a rather extensive menu, no not he, he ordered at least four appetisers and two entrees. 

We sat there looking at him which made him nervous, I think.

"My brain was kind of hazy so I just got em' all to try."

Des can come out with some silly funny stuff when you don't expect it.

"I knew a guy who saw the ghost of his brother before he died. Was run over by a gritter lorry."

"No, I ain't got a brother," Steve retorted recognising the old joke at his expense.

"Yes, you do, you told me his name is Kenny." Des looked perplexed.

Steve sighed. 

"I'm sure this will come up at the insanity hearing," Des said to me. "So what did you do with him? Where's the body at?"

"Really?" Steve mumbled, "Clock off Des."

An aside here, Steve tried to take credit for OUR story. Like his photos told it all, and while they were appropriate to our reporting, in no way did he run the story down. That he was with us for lunch, was an add-on. He wasn't supposed to be at the lunch, instead, he put up such a fuss that our boss Cruella told him he was included, but she would not be attending. I knew why she wasn't, she couldn't stand Steve's bombastic personality nor his crude manners. So the animosity was there as it had been throughout the whole process of our reporting. Des even had a private chat with Cruella about Steve's intimidating her into getting the credit he did not deserve, but alas, it did nothing to stall our argument we didn't want him at the table. This put Des in a snarky mood towards Steve. The dislike was apparent and there was nothing I could do about but, but I did understand the way of it.

Some kind of egg dish came for Steve as an appetiser. It had sauces on a silver server which was put next to Desmond's elbow. 

"Desmond, pass me the Washington Shire sauce." No please, just do it sort of speak.

"Hm, the what?" Desmond was confused.

"The Westminster Shore sauce," Steve said over-salting his egg dish.

"Are you having a stroke?" Desmond asked plainly concerned.

"The Warcasteer Shiner sauce," Steve said irritation setting in.

"The Worcestershire sauce, Des please," I said to clarify the confusion. Since when does an Englishman not be able to pronounce Worcestershire?

Desmond was clearly frustrated as he handed it over to Steve. We watched as half the bottle was poured over the exotic eggs to where they began to float. It WAS an appetising dish but now it was rather a horrific dish of soggy piped yolks and egg white that looked like floating eyeballs. I won't gross you out with lunch, Steve made everything on his side of the table look like it came from outer space making it somewhat hard to concentrate on our own dishes. Even the waiter looked aghast.

I so wanted to take pictures but it was bad enough that Des and Steve were in confrontational mode that I didn't want to add to it. You'll have to take my word for it, lunch on Steve's side of the tabletop was a nightmare of condiments, sauces, and relishes, all where none were needed. 

"What are you like?" Desmond finally said, throwing down his napkin.

When Steve left to use the men's rooms Des and I opted to skip dessert and get coffee somewhere without Steve. Our appetites were ruined as it was and any more time spent watching Steve deconstruct a dessert was not in our stomach's best interest. 

He was fine with our leaving and continued to harass the waiter over dessert. 

This was my last day from work for 2023 and not how I had envisioned spending it, especially since it was a 'thank you' luncheon. I did have the happiest Christmas I've had in years though. Everyone was in good cheer, no Dragon Lady visiting, just Tonya, the kiddos and Mam. Sean even is gone for the holidays, trying his best to learn to ski like a pro with his new girlfriend Mandy. She's quite the outdoor gal and as long as she keeps him on these trips we all approve of this new found love of his, that or his visa expires and it's time to go! Happy New Year R. Linda!

Gabe

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