I fear that I may have gone a little bit over board in my canning this past summer/fall. But as last night I heard that a few years back, the lev got so inflated that all one check was able to buy was six loaves of bread, I think that to have too much canned goods is a good things. I recently did an inventory, and here are the results:
11 jars of tomatoes
9 jars of peaches
9 jars of jellies, assorted
7 jars of pickles
3 jars of babagunosh,
6 jars of pumpkin,
2 jars of applesauce
And keep in mind that "winter" has been here for a month already. Sometimes I think that the jars are multiplying under my table. They do have a lot of privacy down there, so I can never really tell.
As some of you may know, last year I had a guest that I really couldn't see. My apartment is infested with holes that have been cut for smoke pipes, but since I don't have a wood burning stove, they have been wallpapered over, or in the case of my kitchen, a cabniet has been put up to block it. I don't think that anything has been done to the outside portion of the pipe, because last winter, I had what I like to think of as a feral guineua pig. Of course, due to the cabniet blocking the entrance, he couldn't get out, I couldn't get at him, and we had about an inch to stare at each other in frustrated (at least on my part) stalemate. He blithely went being the neat beast he was. Unfortunetly, this meant that he cleaned his hole rather often. You can imagine what exactly needed cleaning in his hole. That ended up on my counter. Ew. I had by that time, explored the contents of my medical kit and found the answer to pretty much all problems here. Medical Tape. It sticks to walls, it sticks to people, it stuck to the bottom edge of the cabneit and the "droppings" stuck to it. Thankfully, I haven't had to apply that messure this year, yet. Hopefully the cat will make threatening enough noises that he will tremble in his little furless feet, and find another pipe to nest in. Or not. Either way, I'm ready for him.
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Saturday, December 06, 2003
I fear that I may have gone a little bit over board in my canning this past summer/fall. But as last night I heard that a few years back, the lev got so inflated that all one check was able to buy was six loaves of bread, I think that to have too much canned goods is a good things. I recently did an inventory, and here are the results:
11 jars of tomatoes
9 jars of peaches
9 jars of jellies, assorted
7 jars of pickles
3 jars of babagunosh,
6 jars of pumpkin,
2 jars of applesauce
And keep in mind that "winter" has been here for a month already. Sometimes I think that the jars are multiplying under my table. They do have a lot of privacy down there, so I can never really tell.
As some of you may know, last year I had a guest that I really couldn't see. My apartment is infested with holes that have been cut for smoke pipes, but since I don't have a wood burning stove, they have been wallpapered over, or in the case of my kitchen, a cabniet has been put up to block it. I don't think that anything has been done to the outside portion of the pipe, because last winter, I had what I like to think of as a feral guineua pig. Of course, due to the cabniet blocking the entrance, he couldn't get out, I couldn't get at him, and we had about an inch to stare at each other in frustrated (at least on my part) stalemate. He blithely went being the neat beast he was. Unfortunetly, this meant that he cleaned his hole rather often. You can imagine what exactly needed cleaning in his hole. That ended up on my counter. Ew. I had by that time, explored the contents of my medical kit and found the answer to pretty much all problems here. Medical Tape. It sticks to walls, it sticks to people, it stuck to the bottom edge of the cabneit and the "droppings" stuck to it. Thankfully, I haven't had to apply that messure this year, yet. Hopefully the cat will make threatening enough noises that he will tremble in his little furless feet, and find another pipe to nest in. Or not. Either way, I'm ready for him.
11 jars of tomatoes
9 jars of peaches
9 jars of jellies, assorted
7 jars of pickles
3 jars of babagunosh,
6 jars of pumpkin,
2 jars of applesauce
And keep in mind that "winter" has been here for a month already. Sometimes I think that the jars are multiplying under my table. They do have a lot of privacy down there, so I can never really tell.
As some of you may know, last year I had a guest that I really couldn't see. My apartment is infested with holes that have been cut for smoke pipes, but since I don't have a wood burning stove, they have been wallpapered over, or in the case of my kitchen, a cabniet has been put up to block it. I don't think that anything has been done to the outside portion of the pipe, because last winter, I had what I like to think of as a feral guineua pig. Of course, due to the cabniet blocking the entrance, he couldn't get out, I couldn't get at him, and we had about an inch to stare at each other in frustrated (at least on my part) stalemate. He blithely went being the neat beast he was. Unfortunetly, this meant that he cleaned his hole rather often. You can imagine what exactly needed cleaning in his hole. That ended up on my counter. Ew. I had by that time, explored the contents of my medical kit and found the answer to pretty much all problems here. Medical Tape. It sticks to walls, it sticks to people, it stuck to the bottom edge of the cabneit and the "droppings" stuck to it. Thankfully, I haven't had to apply that messure this year, yet. Hopefully the cat will make threatening enough noises that he will tremble in his little furless feet, and find another pipe to nest in. Or not. Either way, I'm ready for him.
Today I took a walk.
Now, this may not seem too surprising, but considering the manner in which it was done, it is something truely remarkable.
To be more presice, I strolled.
Here's the story:
I went to Kurdjali, the nearest big town, which really isn't all that big. However, it does have an Office 1 superstore, so for all of you who think that I live in the sticks, it simply ain't true.
The weather was great. After a week of being able to see nothing of the sun except for fantastic sunsets, it was out all day, and actually made the weather warm instead of frigid.
On the bus was one of my colleagues, Erhan. Erhan was going to Kurdjali to spend the night before he went to Plovidiv to take a test the next day. We traveled together.
Once we got to Kurdjali, instead of splitting up, we decided to go get some coffee. Big surprise, I know. But, instead of walking quickly as I usually do, because of some weird thing that makes me go about life as quickly as possible, We strolled.
One step at a time. Then another. I had to fight against the leisurely pace at first, but then it became easier.
Strangely enough, when I slowed down, the town became more interesting. The people, who usually seemed really dour and not happy were all smiling. I felt like I was in a fairy tale.
It was fun.
I doubt that I will be able to walk like that again, just because I know that I'm usually in a rush, but today was good.
Enough with the sentiment, I know.
Now, this may not seem too surprising, but considering the manner in which it was done, it is something truely remarkable.
To be more presice, I strolled.
Here's the story:
I went to Kurdjali, the nearest big town, which really isn't all that big. However, it does have an Office 1 superstore, so for all of you who think that I live in the sticks, it simply ain't true.
The weather was great. After a week of being able to see nothing of the sun except for fantastic sunsets, it was out all day, and actually made the weather warm instead of frigid.
On the bus was one of my colleagues, Erhan. Erhan was going to Kurdjali to spend the night before he went to Plovidiv to take a test the next day. We traveled together.
Once we got to Kurdjali, instead of splitting up, we decided to go get some coffee. Big surprise, I know. But, instead of walking quickly as I usually do, because of some weird thing that makes me go about life as quickly as possible, We strolled.
One step at a time. Then another. I had to fight against the leisurely pace at first, but then it became easier.
Strangely enough, when I slowed down, the town became more interesting. The people, who usually seemed really dour and not happy were all smiling. I felt like I was in a fairy tale.
It was fun.
I doubt that I will be able to walk like that again, just because I know that I'm usually in a rush, but today was good.
Enough with the sentiment, I know.
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
While all of you were eating Turkey and Sweet Potatoes this past weekend, I was off having the second part of my Thanksgiving Adventure. For those of you who missed it, it involved many, many hours of travel, on buses and trains, many bad or even wrong directions, a waitress/taxi driver, a broken phone, and sock coffee. While many of those things didn't happen this year, (sad. I was really looking forward to some coffee strained thru a sock. It's good. Alyse knows how to clean her socks and clean them well.)
So, in a short little thing, as I am exhausted from this weekend, here goes:
A lingually confused man who swore that Chicago was only 50 kilometers from Niagra Falls. Despite the instance of Meghan, who is from Chicago, that this was not true, he bet us a bottle of whiskey. We declined.
A parade of live chickens being carried down the street by their feet. It was just funny to me.
A side stepped water balloon.
A stalker dog. The dog followed Meghan and I from the center pretty much to Alyse's front door. Whenever we stopped to let it pass, he would go up ahead, then lurk behind a tree to get back behind us. Even when we ducked into a shop, he sat down and waited for us. Luckily, an old man came and chased him in circles until he ran away. It was freaky in a funny way.
A second water balloon. This was a surprise attack and the target was hit. Oops. Did I mention that it was cold here? It's cold here.
A day of cooking things and eating things. Our complete menu: A tofurkey, two lasangas, pumpkin soup, fruit stuffed pumpkin, cauliflower, spinach salad, walnut loaf, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (Thank you Margret's Mom!) and bread. And about 7 bottles of wine between 12 people. Also, for desert, two apple pies, a pumpkin pie, and a cheese cake made with Happy Cow cream cheese. It was very happy.
The restaurant we ate all of this food at supplied a very strange singer. He had white hair, glasses, and sang selections from really random people. Kevin and I even waltzed.
A fish of a different sort. Alyse has a wall full of fish that people paint whenever they come over. Our friend Adam painted a really bad Orca. Our friend Kevin, as a joke, outlined a larger fish who was going to eat Adam's fish. Adam got huffy, and Kevin painted an egg instead. However, after both had left, Margaret painted the outline in. So now, there is a bad Orca about to be eaten by an invisible eel monster. The soap opera of Alyse's fish wall!
So that was pretty much my weekend. I spent a lot of time cooking, a lot of time traveling, a lot of time laughing with my friends, a lot of time cleaning, a lot of time and even more time eating. But, since it was a vegetarian Thanksgiving, it was a lot of veggies. That makes it all okay, right?
So, in a short little thing, as I am exhausted from this weekend, here goes:
A lingually confused man who swore that Chicago was only 50 kilometers from Niagra Falls. Despite the instance of Meghan, who is from Chicago, that this was not true, he bet us a bottle of whiskey. We declined.
A parade of live chickens being carried down the street by their feet. It was just funny to me.
A side stepped water balloon.
A stalker dog. The dog followed Meghan and I from the center pretty much to Alyse's front door. Whenever we stopped to let it pass, he would go up ahead, then lurk behind a tree to get back behind us. Even when we ducked into a shop, he sat down and waited for us. Luckily, an old man came and chased him in circles until he ran away. It was freaky in a funny way.
A second water balloon. This was a surprise attack and the target was hit. Oops. Did I mention that it was cold here? It's cold here.
A day of cooking things and eating things. Our complete menu: A tofurkey, two lasangas, pumpkin soup, fruit stuffed pumpkin, cauliflower, spinach salad, walnut loaf, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (Thank you Margret's Mom!) and bread. And about 7 bottles of wine between 12 people. Also, for desert, two apple pies, a pumpkin pie, and a cheese cake made with Happy Cow cream cheese. It was very happy.
The restaurant we ate all of this food at supplied a very strange singer. He had white hair, glasses, and sang selections from really random people. Kevin and I even waltzed.
A fish of a different sort. Alyse has a wall full of fish that people paint whenever they come over. Our friend Adam painted a really bad Orca. Our friend Kevin, as a joke, outlined a larger fish who was going to eat Adam's fish. Adam got huffy, and Kevin painted an egg instead. However, after both had left, Margaret painted the outline in. So now, there is a bad Orca about to be eaten by an invisible eel monster. The soap opera of Alyse's fish wall!
So that was pretty much my weekend. I spent a lot of time cooking, a lot of time traveling, a lot of time laughing with my friends, a lot of time cleaning, a lot of time and even more time eating. But, since it was a vegetarian Thanksgiving, it was a lot of veggies. That makes it all okay, right?
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