I have to post my correspondence with Ortega Taco Products.
So, you think I’ll make a dumb customer website? Or at least the woman’s bulletin board? I’m hoping she’ll send me coupons out of pity for this poor dumb woman…
I, too, am glad that your accident wasn’t worse than it was taters.
Glad that your dr. appointment went okay, herbs.
Feel better li-li, and here’s some sleepytime fairydust to sprinkle over the Natster’s crib**.
rebo the tostada shell story was funny!!!
Well, the snow stopped for a bit, but we had an actual by-God Snow Day for the kids. The snow is at least three feet deep, and in drifts much deeper. There was an avalanche which closed down the main road on the island down to one lane between the Flats and the Base, so no water aerobics tonight. The snowplow guy didn’t even plow our drive, so I couldn’t get in or out if I wanted to. We are up for more snow tonight, which will, at some point turn to rain. Because of that, we now have a flood watch out, as the ditches and storm drains are clogged with snow and ice. Springtime in Kodiak, dontcha all wish you were here? I have pictures for later, and I may even post a video a friend of mine put on youtube. He’s kind of a dork (most fishermen are) but it’s a funny video, and shows the lake at the bottom of my hill.
Death Chicken is in the oven, with pound cake, strawberries and whipped cream for afters.
rebo, your story sounds like something that would happen to me.
Just saw and bookmarked the Death Chicken recipe. Alas, no oven in the house. I will have to see if I can get my one sister who has a working oven to let me use it.
More than one Mumper has mentioned eggs in bread pudding. Of the capirotada recipes I’ve seen, none includes eggs. Neither does Salvadoran-style bread pudding, which is what my mom and grandma make - they do add milk, though.
Oh well, enough posting. Off to bed.
I did not read Moonie’s story.
The only time I’ve lived in a place that sported an ice cream truck, it was in a neighborhood of Glasgow called Anniesland. The truck only played the tune from Popeye. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to go buy ice cream or throw spinach cans at the truck…
LiLi, the Nephew had a similar reaction to both OJ and apple juice (both diluted, as well). His sippy cup suddenly fused into his hands. Given that the Niece has a death grip, I wonder whether she’ll manage to squash the cup from holding it too tight.
This week I’m in Murcia teaching a course. Because of the nature of the materials I wasn’t able to really prepare it (it was along the lines of “these people are implementing SAP and they already know about using the PM module but they need to know how to prepare it for use but of course we don’t know which parts they need”). Apparently I musn’t be doing so badly, though, since they’ve asked whether they can call me up later if’n’when they have questions. I’m off this morning because they’re all on meetings, will go out later and go see some old buildings (lots of baroque near my hotel) and have a tapas lunch at Cathedral Square.
Having to eat all your meals in restaurants blows, but at least this hotel has a proper notion of breakfast.
doggio no matter what Gordie does, it ain’t half as bad as gotti’s situation with a coked up turkey in his fridge.
Good mornin’ y’all! Up and caffienatin’ here. Must go brekkify and purtify for work soonish as I need to be there around sevenish today. I need to set myself up to stealth monitor several specific folks today all of whom are suspected of call avoiding. Little do they know, apparently, even with the fact that people are told all the time, monitorin’ can occur at anytime without their knowledge. I got a feeling some of 'em will be told bye bye today.
So, what’s everybody else up to today?
Later y’all!
Coked up turkey and a deathmarching dog? Honestly, sometimes I wonder if people should really start calling me “Alice” round here.
Nothing exciting here today, I have a team meeting later and at some point this week I have a performance development review where my line manager can tell me how wonderful I am. Well, that won’t take long…
Heee. I never thought of having food for dinner. 
Don’t forget the addicted baby, BooFae.
Up. Running late again. Bye.
GT
Chronic insomnia has been at me again tonight, so I am just now dragging myself off to bed, again. I checked outside, it’s snowing hard, and blowing. We have gotten another foot, easily, with much deeper drifts. The message earlier from the school was that it would begin an hour late. We’ll see about that.
Have a good Wednesday, you Day Walkers!
Sleeeeepy. The coffee ain’t working. If I could just sleep two more hours, I would be good. The problem is sleeping in the computer chair fro an hour and a half before waking up and going to bed. Bad Rebo!
I made steak hash and fried cabbage last night. It was freakin’ good. Mmm.
Pissed me off this morning when I went out to get the newspaper and the stupid guy had thrown it right in the middle of the marigolds around the tree! Squished one flat! This is the second time. He decapitated one the last time. I’m thinking some nasty phone calls might be in order… Grrr…
Apparently Corvette Roommate isn’t going to speak to me until I speak to him. :rolleyes: WTFever. If he wants to get all junior high about it, that’s fine. I’m not the one who got stoned on Ambien, took half the dishes out of the dishwasher, and turned it on (which is what woke me up at 1 a.m.) I’m not the idiot who mixes alcohol and sleep medication. I am, however, a shrieking harpy whenever I’m rudely awakened and he will do well to remember that.
He also had the testicular fortitude to compare my cat meowing at 4 a.m. to his little dishwasher escapade.
This is why I don’t like Marines, folks. WOWCrack is also a former Marine and it took months for him to get off his pride cross too. Just because I’m a little pacifist chick doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if you cross me. I get respect too, assholes.
Morning folks, up and caffeinating here. Already had one cup and am getting ready for another; hope it works better for me than for Rebo! 
Oh and btw, Rebo, too bad hubby didn’t tell you earlier about eating that other tostada shell! Wasn’t your fault. Hee!
Hope you’re feeling some better today, LiLi, and also hoping that kai is getting some sleep now. OMG though, kai that is a -daunting- amount of snow! :eek: Oh and I saw on the news last night about Mt. Redoubt—yikes! Please stay safe and well!
I know I’m forgetting stuff, sorry – ooh yesh, good to see you, BooFae! And at least Nava is getting a balanced breakfast. 
Ohhh… and many hugs for Spaz, and troutslap for CorvetteRoomie - ugh!
Melatonin can fix that. I have NOOOOO problem getting to sleep, but the damned dog gets me up about once an hour to let him out to pee. I’m going to throw away the prednisone he’s been getting.
Blurf, obviously.
Spaz, since 'VetteRoomie is a Jarhead, you can accumulate valuable style points for insulting his intelligence and machismo.
:gooses BioRosie:
Blurf.
Another lovely day at the office pretending to look busy. Yaaaaay. sigh
Mmmmm… strawberry cake. I want me some of that! Could you share the recipe when you get it, Spaz? Pretty please? With a strawberry on top? I’ll even volunteer to take over trout-slapping duties for you when your arm gets tired, because it looks like Corvette Roommate needs the extended trout-slap session for being such a dumbass.
LiLi, that’s hilarious. Poor little Gnat, doomed to spend the rest of his life clutching at a bottle of Tropicana to get his fix.
Rebo, I just sprayed coffee on my monitor thanks to your little email exchange with Ortega. Don’t you know you should still hold their QA team responsible for the fact that your husband ate one of the shells while you weren’t looking? That’s how you earn the right to be on crazy customer websites!
Lucky, I think bread pudding is one of those things that changes from one culture to the next. Growing up, the only kind we ever made was French-style pain perdu, where you soak the bread overnight in a mixture of eggs, cream, milk, vanilla and sugar… it’s pretty much the default bread pudding in Canada, AFAIK. It’s incredibly rich and fattening, though, when compared to capirotada.
Blurf ditto. Went to bed early but didn’t sleep well. Hence more blurf than usual.
Good heavens, kai! How do the schools expect kids to get there? Are the buses pulled by huskies?
That dinner sounds good ol fashioned delish, rebo!
We miss you hanging round, rosie.
That Gnat story deserves a video, li-li!
I am being summoned by Disnoid team leader. Later.
Tupug
Rebo, the Ortega story is laugh-out-loud-in-the-office hilarious. I can totally see myself doing that.
I did sprinkle a little chipotle in, but I was afraid to start with very much, especially with white-bread Minnesotans coming for dinner. But I got so little that, like the cinnamon, I couldn’t taste it at all. How much would you put in for an 8x8 pan of brownies? I’m aiming for a subtle smokiness; I don’t want the chipotle to hit you over the head when you’re expecting chocolaty brownie taste.
Oh, god. It starts with OJ, and then other juices creep into his life: apple, grape, the dreaded cranberry–which is introduced via such evil as cranapple and crangrape. You try to dilute the stuff with ice cubes, but nothing works. Soon, it OJ sans pulp, just to get that orangey goodness stronger, then it’s straight up orange concentrate–but nothing is enough… Next thing you know, Gnat is couch diving for spare change to buy that large bottle of POM in the produce section, lips and tongue stained with the telltale signs of a Juicer…
Get help, now. There are hotlines set up and people standing by.
I think I did that the other night when I told him he knew fuck-all about proper cast-iron skillet maintenance. Better me than the actual owner of the skillets, Complicated, who raked me over a Hawaii worth of coals when I accidentally put a wet cup in a skillet years ago. Since then I’ve been very careful to put oil in the pans almost every week.
I’m the only person in the house who hasn’t served in the military. They like to hold that against me, but it all falls apart when I point out I’m also the only person in the house who doesn’t have PTSD.
Or, as I like to call them, crapple and crape. I’m a big fan of crangerine.
How thoughtful – but I usually search “twick*” to find 'em all.
Heh. And I was thinking that sniffing sound in the garage was just the defrost cycle.
My trusty old point-and-shoot camera is dying. 
It’s not quite dead yet, but it seems to have had a stroke. I turned it on last night to take some pix of something we want to craigslist, and the lens wouldn’t come out. It just kept making funny noises and the lens looked like it was trying to come out. I managed to get enough grip on it to coax it out - it pops out but kept on twitching.
I was thinking of replacing it anyway as it’s been aggravating me more and more with how long it takes to turn on and how long it takes from pressing the button to actuall taking a picture, and more than once, I’ve felt the itch to go back to an SLR format. I just need to sort out the religious war of Nikon vs Canon.
Mr. Lissar is having three fillings and a root canal done today. I think his dinner will be soup.
Nat’s got a little of what I had, but he doesn’t seem less energetic than usual. We’re mostly chilling at home today, might go for a walk later if it doesn’t rain.
Sleepy. Bad night for the little guy.
ETA: rigs, that’s hilarious! I’m sending your comment to Mr. Lissar.