My Brand New iPhone 8

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Well here we are again, snacking on yet another “Happy Friday!!!” My sincere hope is that all or none of you find some solace in this solar sanitation secretion after looking at the radio or reading the news on TV. I mean, there’s an awful lot of awful going on in the world these days; but I’m not going to venture into snarbbling or rant loudly with perkapachoopy bird fart dessert toppings.

It’s just too doggone painful!!

No, instead I think I’ll just reflect on how blessed I am. For example, I have plenty to eat, a warm, safe place to sleep, a most amazing “new” partner (we’ve been a couple for a little over a year now)… I could go on and on but I think you get the idea.

I also have stuff!! Too darn much stuff really. For example take my iPhone. No really!! Just take it!! No… not really. It’s mine and you may not have it. Yes, as you may have inferred by the title of this document, I am the proud owner of a brand new iPhone 8. I received it from work back in 2022 I think… no wait!! Might have been 2018!! Heck I dunno… I’ve had it for a long time. I just keep it in an Otterbox Defender case and I can run over it with a bulldozer so it will be completely destroyed. Since I don’t have a bulldozer, I’m just grateful that the Otterbox Defender case keeps it pretty much indestructible and it still works just fine.

And no, I don’t need a new one, thank you anyway!! Sheesh, I just had the battery replaced a couple months ago!! Only cost me $63.70… but I gave the guy $75 because he is a business owner / sales / repair guy (looks like he’s a one-man operation); plus he did a great job pretty quickly.

I retired from the computer work world universe, and although I do enjoy technological toys, mine are (obviously) mostly prehistoric ones. I’m one of those weirdos who carefully researches electronic stuff before buying; then I spend a little more on quality stuff because I know it will last a while. You know, my Pioneer dual cassette player / recorder deck still works very well. I’ve only had it for about 24 years so I figure it’s likely I’ll be able to get a few more weeks of use out of it. Maybe even another 24 years!! Oh yeah, I bought my Yamaha HTR5490 receiver / amplifier around the same time so I figure it’s gonna have a 25th birthday soon too.

If you have any inkling that I enjoy living in the Jurassic period of technology, I would have to reinforce your perceptions by saying “Yes I do, and I like it very much thank you.” Then I will snicker and snergle which will perhaps cause all or none of you will be defended; and of course if that is the case I shall broop and geschnibble until the Lower Moon sinks into the toilet tank. Besides, if you’ve ever slept inside a small spare tire, you’d be surprised to learn that some molecules smell better outside than they do inside.

Now it’s very much past time to blurt out a very serious question to all involved: “Does a Heffalump have a whole lump or a half a lump?” Questions such as these could of course cause a run-on sentence unless they are kept in a well lit pantry for at least 12; but when crickets finally resign from their duties as auto mechanics, only the most critical crayon rashes can prevent a hummingbird moth from knocking on xylophone bones during The Great Pine Cone Races which are held annually each year with a spacing of 12 months at a time on the order of 1/10th of a decade and like, you know, sometimes but not really.

OK??

Yes, have some.

Alrighty then. I suppose I’ll just resume washing the television shows I very much enjoy while all the silly, battery operated concrete blocks jump wildly from lane to lane on the interstate railroads. Is any of this making sense to you? I hope not!! If you are having difficulty looking for a “hidden meaning” or some sort of “symbolic embolism” or perhaps are seeking a “rational radiator” in all of this, please mail $12.37 and 17 box tops to:

Yodel Screechers Anonymous
24-7 Wildebeest Way
Honkingtown, Indibraskalania 49001-5

Ask for Mr. Rumpkin.

I leave you now with some very undergrown words that I never but always am urging with complete indigestion:

It is always better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, “eight” is a word.

Peace, Love, and Fuzzy Earlobes,

Hyram C. Gilmore
Professor of Turnip Juice
Gutcramp University

And now for something completely different. Well, maybe not completely…

Is Anyone Out There?

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So here we go with another moon voyage. Sure, it’s exciting, but in my professional opinion there are quite a few problems to be solved right here on Earth; so I often wonder why so much is spent on space missions and nowhere near enough is spent on taking care of our Mother Earth.

Anyway…

Seems like some Earthlings have long been obsessed with a very old question: Is there life on Mars? I pondered this myself for what seemed like hours, just before hitting my head on the pillow last night. As I drifted off to slumberland, very profound thoughts danced through my head bone.

So I’m like… Sheesh!! Those science folks are spending some big bucks researching this no-brainer “controversy” of whether there is life on Mars (or elsewhere). The answer is simple: Of COURSE there’s life on Mars!! Lots of other places, too. Folks in Hollywood have known this for years. My good friend Vexor the Sarganian laughed openly about the stupidity of Earthling scientists, and has often helped movie makers get the real picture. “Lobster Men From Mars,” for example. Lots of different kinds of folks out there on the other planets. We Earthlings are just too arrogant to embrace that idea.

Or maybe we’re just chicken!

Vexor is, of course, from Sargan: the 5th planet of Sector 23vx in the Skoldern Galaxy. A pretty cool dude, and he’s been around, if you know what I mean. He got that 479 Megazip Crambo-Leaper a couple yargons ago. It was used, but he got a good deal. Only paid 47 billion zangles for it, and he’s been tearing up the Interstellar Speedway ever since. He took me for a ride once, but I get starsick; and, well, I’ll just be staying on Earth for a while (I barfed on his crystal-regulated zoomophone).

Anyhower, he’s known about life “out there” for years. When I asked him about Mars, I think it upset him, though at first he just got this blank look on his face. Then he scrunched up his eyes, and blurted out, “Where the heck ya think all those chocolate candies come from?? Says `Mars’ on the back, don’t it?? Jeez, man, don’t you pay attention?” I sat there, dumbfounded, as he continued to illustrate my cosmic ignorance.

“You can even smell them making the chocolate from Earth,” he ranted. “All you have to do is go to Hershey, Pennsylvania and look through a telescope at the beautiful Red Planet. Before you know it, you’ll smell chocolate.”

“What’s so special about Hershey… hey, wait a minute,” I said, grinning. “That’s where the Hershey bar factories are, you Moogle Framer! Ha, you got me there. Ha ha.” Vexor laughed too, and slapped me on the back playfully with his dretzel. Then he put me in my place again by noting that he hadn’t been called a Moogel Framer in over 43 durns. I guess I used an obsolete expression. “Nice try, though, you silly Zoff Pinkler!” he chortled. He thought that was pretty darned funny, but I was getting a bit impatient. Vexor picked up on my frustration pretty quickly, and being the sensitive Sarganian that he is, he returned to Mars as the focus of the conversation.

“Yep, you may remember back in the day when everyone was reading in the National Globe Star Enquirer that Elvis is alive. He’s making records on Mars, and doing quite well, thank you. His favorite candy is his own creation, the Hunka-Hunka bar. Some kind of cross between chocolate and a peanut butter sandwich.”

“What, no Snickers??” I asked this of him with a pretty strong tone. I was a bit shocked that Vexor hadn’t mentioned what I considered to be one of the best chocolate bars in the universe. “Of course,” I continued, “they are becoming the amazing shrinking candy bar. Something happened with the size lately, and they’re not quite as big as they used to be. Still cost just as much, though. Perhaps they should be renamed `Sneakers’.”

Vexor started tapping his pedplarbs and fidgeting with a small piece of croob. When I quit rambling, he started anew. “You wanna gab about junk food or you wanna hear about Mars??” He was almost shouting at me, so I shut up. “OK. Now, where was I?” he continued. “Oh yeah. Elvis. I remember the time he bought one of those fancy belts from Leroy. Helped him bring a lot more folks into his concerts at the Martian Mosh Pit there in New Kramia.”

I was puzzled. “Leroy??” I queried. “Who’s this Leroy?”

“Duh,” Vexor chided. “Don’t you Earthrats know anything? Leroy Aster! You know, the inventor of the Asteroid Belt! All those shiny things on his custom made belts really bring in the crowds. Gotta have good technicians to train the lights on them just the right way, of course. Those Gleebnoogles from Jupiter really go nuts for that stuff. They spend thousands of smoglards just to get a peek!”

He had a great time reminiscing. He paused and tilted his head back, rolled his eyes and shook with laughter as he recalled some of the fun he and his girlfriend Vosk had at some of those Elvis concerts last month. Wasn’t long before I was being treated to his best bag of dehydrated skunyon and a tall glass of brak-ma-gar.

Then the alarm clock went off…

But wait!! Perhaps it wasn’t a dream!! I forgot about Marvin!!!

Accentuate The Positive

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The news has been rather dreadful these days past week. War… war… war… corruption, incompetence. It’s becoming unhealthy to tune in and witness it all.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m a spoiled American. I live in a safe community. With very few exceptions, folks around here are decent, caring people. If I had a magic wand, I’d wave it and make the world safe and healthy for everyone. Obviously, it just doesn’t work that way. To paraphrase one of my favorite prayers, I have to accept things I can’t change. Although November seems light years away, I will definitely vote and hope my voice helps to promote a better world. I already vote with my money; by spending it at local businesses wherever possible, but otherwise doing my best to avoid products that insult Mother Nature.

Lots of folks are all buzzing about and grimacing from the price of everything and the uncertainty of everything else. Life has changed in some very big ways. Nobody loves change, including me. However, I’m getting a little better at keeping the negative fire storms out of my head. Being annoyed is one thing; but my magnifying mind can, if let loose, really run with a grudge that ends up being harmful to me and those around me.

When I get unsettled, I need to talk to trusted friends so my head doesn’t explode. All the woes of the world… I try hard to avoid going negative but when I do I need to dump it and quickly. So I turn to my friends. They’ve heard it before, and before that, and before that. Yet, they seem to love me anyway! Not sure how anyone else works it all out; but I need to vent to someone who understands when I’m hurting inside. The way it works for me is to vent until I get tired of hearing it myself. Fortunately, I’ve become aware that if I allow anger or resentment to fester in my heart, I’m basically poisoning myself. Being livid about things over which I have no control is about as effective as eating a poison pill and expecting someone else to die. After all, the only thing I have any control over is how I react to all these “wonderful” things that are happening in the world.

When my serenity alarm goes off, I need to remind myself to run through my “gratitude list.” I am healthy and I have the love of an amazing woman. She even lets me kiss her!! We have cars that work, a nice home, plenty to eat. We have loving relationships with our offspring, relatives and friends. Life really is good..

No poison for me thanks. I need to make gratitude my attitude. Sometimes it takes a bit of work to pull it off, but life is much more peaceful when I succeed. And yes, like the old song says, “Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative.”

Can you tell I’m practicing?

So here’s proof positive that we are spoiled Americans. If you are reading this, it means that you have access to the internet. And if you have internet, you have access to Buddy Hackett. Say what?? Well just watch. We all could use a good laugh right now. Thank you Buddy… even though you’re in Heaven, you and funny folks like you can be found on the interwebs to give me nice belly laughs when I need them. Very good medicine after watching the news!!

To Stay Married, Eat The Wings

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So there I was, minding my own business, crying inside at the state of the world what with the war and all and the climate change and more and more expensive everything and hoping we can all survive this; and please PLEASE start working together to treat all we meet with love and kindness; and now of course I’m wondering if this run-on sentence will ever stop; but then I realized that I’m the only one who can stop it.

So I did.

Then my dear Debi said to me, “Hey, did you hear about the cockroaches that eat each others’ wings so they can be mates for life??” And of course I had not heard of this… but sure enough, there it is on the interwebs, and you can if you want to read about it click here to see it in Science News. So yes, these cockaroaches really do eat each others’ wings as a way to bond and fend off any other possible suitors.

Isn’t that special? Maybe humans could adopt that strategy as a way to keep an eternal bond during the matrimonial universe of their relationship. It certainly beats taunting each other. And no, I didn’t misspell cockroach. Know why? It’s on this authority: when I was a kid on Long Island, Noo Yawk we would abuse the use of such roaches’ names by teasing each other thusly: “Crybaby cockaroach nyaa nyaa na boo boo!!” This of course was sung to the tune of “You Are A Stinkerbutt Nyaa Nyaa Na Boo Boo!!”

None of the cockaroach wing munchings can really pull me out of the funk that the events of the world have slapped into my nostrils. Therefore, I will conclude this week’s silly blog thing with some very silly transcriptions of actual text messages I’ve sent to my coworkers during my tenure as a factory support computer geek boy. So without any further ado, here are the messages for your enjoyment.

By applying mustard on my cat’s eyebrows, I can feel confident his festive appearance will give him great joy among his peers.

Tonight I plan to enjoy a nice dinner of Cream of Dogfood Soup with a grilled Kibbles ‘n Bits sandwich.  All this will precede a raucous 3 hour session of barking at the moon.

Not sure who the culprit is so I’m asking everyone:  please stop substituting my mustard with the Purple Sludge.  The fridge is starting to vibrate between 2 and 3:37 AM.

Tomorrow’s breakfast:  Please prepare some shrimp on the half shell with a side dish of deep fried moth tongues.  I’ll wash it down with a nice avocado / eggplant smoothie; after which I’ll run for the men’s room.  Thank you!!

And as a final entry for today:

Happy Friday!!  May your ears enjoy delicious flavors; and may your nostrils flutter softly in the breeze.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

And now for the video fun stuff:

A Bowl Of Nonsensical Stress Relief

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Well my dear ones, here we are in another unnecessary war. As the old John Prine song goes, “Jesus don’t like killin’ no matter what the reason’s for.” Rather than lament about all that icky stuff, I dug up a very silly story I wrote for my grandsons several years ago. So without further ado, I present to you:

The Adventures Of Gribblit And Yobo

Once upon a time, there were two finkle snarns named Gribblit and Yobo. Both of them enjoyed eating dust while watching their favorite dogfood fly into small cars. There were times when they enjoyed this so much, they would jump up and down about 14 times and roll some cabbage across the road. If they got too loud, their Mom would come outside and say, “Hey you two!! What do you think this is?? Some kind of radio hammer?” After Mom said things like that, they decided they’d better be good for at least 12 more seconds.

Last Tuesday, Gribblit came home from frog washing school and was laughing a lot. Yobo asked, “What’s so funny?” Gribblit laughed some more and said, “My cheese sandwich keeps finding pennies in people’s hair!!” Yobo didn’t think that was really funny, but he wanted to get a penny finding sandwich like Gribblit had. Yobo said, “Can you teach my sandwich how to find money? I’d really like to buy a new carrot saw so I can cut my carrots faster. Oh!! And I sure would like to have one of those battery operated nose cleaners!!”

Gribblit wasn’t sure he could teach a sandwich how to find money. So instead he told Yobo, “Well to be honest, I never taught my sandwich anything. It just started finding money on its own. But I’ll tell you what, I bet if we carry some sticks over to Mr. Camel’s house he can teach us how to make an ear brush!” Yobo crinkled his eyebrows and told Gribblit, “I think maybe you are fooling me. Everyone knows Mr. Camel doesn’t brush his ears, he licks them.” Gribblit said he was sorry, and showed Yobo a handful of pennies. “OK, well maybe we could go to the ice cream shop and I’ll buy you some chicken wire. That way we can use it to catch spiders on their way to the movies!!”

Yobo popped his doogle zinker and said, “Well all my spider friends will be very angry if you try to stop them from going to the movies. We better go to the House of Hamburgers and buy some jingle bells instead. That way we can signal the trees before they cross the road so they won’t get hit by large trucks.” Yobo also said, “After we jingle our tree signals, we can sit down for a nice glass of hot pepper juice and some pickled newspapers.”

So, Gribblit and Yobo had another very nice day that made absolutely no sense to either of them. But they stayed friends; and found out that no matter how many marbles you sing songs to, there will always be more birds who don’t like living in a cave. They will also remember that hot pepper juice doesn’t really taste very good with pickled newspapers. However, fried hammer handles can be pretty darn tasty.

As Grandma Foo Foo Looba once said, “Please, just don’t eat my kitchen door.”

The End

OK… and now because I’m an old hippie, here are some protest songs. I often put more than one video (or song) at the end of each “Happy Friday!!!”… but some folks have expressed surprise and have missed some stuff. Well there are 3 this time.

Just sayin’

Daylight Craving Time

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“What to write for tonight?” he wondered (OK, he is actually me). There’s a war going on, a nasty one too. But I doubt anyone wants to hear about that on Happy Friday!!! I’m praying all war everywhere would just plain quit but I don’t think that’s gonna happen. And yes I know prices on pretty much everything are rather nuts right now, but all I can say about all that is this reminder to all my friends: We are spoiled Americans. We live in a safe place and a free country (so far). “So again,” he wondered, “whatchya gonna write tonight??”

“I know!!” he (OK it’s really me again) exclaimed, “I’ll whine about the loss of an hour of sleep when we change the clock again!!”

So here’s how happy I am about the clock change. Some of you may remember a similar version of this rant from a few years ago. I apologize for not producing something fresh and twinkly, but my heart really hurts right now for the people who are being killed at all the horrible warring regions of the globe..

Anyway, here’s my whining:

Daylight Craving Time – Spring Ahead

Here we go again. An hour of sleep lost in honor of “springing ahead” into Daylight Savings Time. I thought about writing some cockamamie jab at the history of Daylight Saving Time, but after about 430 milliseconds of extensive research I’ve learned there are so many convolutions and wonkulary wibbledy-poof that I ran away screaming. If you’re really interested in that stuff, Snopes has a pretty good page that describes it all in a nice little nutshell, here:

http://www.snopes.com/science/daylight.asp.

Any who how, even though our biological clocks get their springs and gears all wompified, most of my friends here in Beautiful West Michigan are very OK with the concept of Daylight Saving Time during the summer. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy having daylight till 10:30 PM? Days are already getting longer, and the birds are playing their electric guitars while squirrels, possums, and racketycoons jump up and down to the beat. Deer are looking at us with that “What??” face while they munch on our muddy snow melted lawns. Starlings and grackles will soon be ready to empty the bird feeders pretty much as quickly as we can fill them. And yep, pretty soon the peepers will be peeping and the thunder will be thundering.

Oh wait… we already had some thunderboomers. Let’s hear it for climate change!!

So listen, awright?? I’m really sick up and fed with this time changing monkey business. It really seems quite unnecessary, don’t you think? Let’s spring ahead just once and frickin’ leave it that way!! This is the way of my wanting, and I hereby proclaim its necessity!! I mean, do I need to reiterate how spoiled we are here in Beautiful West Michigan during the summer?!?! Summer, after all, is my favorite time of year; and we get very long days. I really love being in the garden until it’s too dark to see; and as I mentioned earlier that’s almost 10:30 PM here during part of the warm months.

I try to remind myself of being spoiled, because I’ve experienced the other end of the toaster handle. When I was a kid growing up on Long Island, it was dark outside not too long after we got home from school. In those days, our local fire department touched off a siren every day at precisely 7 PM. Now, when you’re a little kid who has to be heading home “when the 7 o’clock whistle blows,” you still can have lots of fun with hide-and-seek because it’s dark outside at about 5 PM. We’d eat supper, go outside and play, and have gobs of fun running around “at night.” So in that regard, falling back to Standard Time was kinda fun.

I’m a couple days older now, and because I’m a senior citizen I hereby reserve the right to once again whine about the fact that I’m not really a fan of changing the clocks at all. I’m very OK with living on the far western edge of the Eastern Time Zone, so we can squeeze every last minute of daylight out of the setting sun. Arizona and Hawaii don’t observe all this saving time nonsense. I’d be OK with that, so long as we keep Daylight Saving Time.

Please write to my congressman and woman to make this happen. I’ll give you $3.40 up front for an incentive, and I’ll even bake you an Apple Surprise pie (Surprise!! I put raisins in there too!!). If you can get this done before Sunday, I’ll even make you an Apple Surprise Surprise pie (Raisins and walnuts!!) !!

Well, it’s time for me to quit writing about time now. There was a time though, back in 1973 when I had a very nice time, listening to these guys. All I could say then (and all I can say now), was WOW!!

No News Can Be Good News

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I’ve always been a bit of a news junkie. Been that way ever since I can remember really… I even remember when Berlin Wall was being built. I was the ripe old age of 6 at the time. Unfortunately, most of the news we see in the media is not very pleasant these days. Maybe it never was. Regardless, I think I’ve been paying a little too much attention and it’s starting to hurt me. There really is lots of very good news in this world, but sadly not nearly enough of it is reported in the mainstream media.

Therefore I’ve decided not to focus so much on what needs to be changed in the world, but rather try to focus on what needs to be changed in me. Specifically, I may (or may not) try to distract myself by squirting copious amounts spicy brown mustard into my nostrils every time I get the urge to watch the news. There’s actually a clinical name for this method; which I just made up. Yes my friends, I’ve named it “No News Mustard Nose.” This is not to be confused with The Beatles’ song “Mean Mr. Mustard,” although I really do enjoy that tune. However, when my nostrils are full of mustard I simply do not feel very musical.

In order to further my journey into serenity and good mental health; I’m also doing my best not to indulge in negativity. Perhaps I could achieve this by loudly blowing bubbles in a glass of chocolate milk every time someone wants to utter sounds of prejudice, racism, or misogyny (to name a few). I could even try using a straw!! This could be enhanced by humming loudly into the straw; and thereby making some very musical bubbling action. If the negative yammering continues, I could take a quick break from the bubbling and loudly proclaim, “My Musical Milk Makes Me Most Merry!!” And of course I would resume with the brightly bubbly ballad; only much louder.

I’ve heard that some folks find happiness by purchasing things. Well I already have too much stuff; but perhaps I could go shopping for such luxury items as chocolate covered herring fillets; or maybe some nonexplosive macaroni and cheese for a change. I’ve always disliked macaroni explosions. Takes weeks to get the stuff out of the crooks and nannies of my kitchen. Of course I could instead try to find something useful like a solar powered paper clip dispenser; or there’s always that right handed / left handed (for those who are ambivalent) matching set of metric screwdrivers I’ve never wanted. Maybe I won’t go shopping at all, but rather treat myself and wonderful partner to an elegant dinner of Fish Head Surprise with Mama Baloopa’s Banana Gravy. Oh and let’s not forget the famous Cinnamon Raisin Eggplant Pie Ala Mode for dessert!! I hear it’s the latest thing in the suburbs of Sasquatch, New Yingleton.

My friends, I decided to make silly tonight due to the continuation of how horribly we humans treat each other and our Mother (Nature). I’m very aware that there’s very little over which I can exert any control, so I will simply do the best I can to treat people and all other living things with kindness and love. I’ll continue to wing up prayers for those who are suffering, and I’ll continue to pray for our planet and all its creatures and plants. We’re all in this together after all. Perhaps there will come a time when humanity can really make love and not war. Being the idealist that I am, I’ll continue to cling to the hope that we can (eventually??) learn from history rather than continuously repeat it.

Until then, if you’re at my house when the news comes on, just look the other way when the mustard starts to flow; and maybe plug your ears when I reach for the chocolate milk and my straw. Then stick around for the Fish Head Eggplant Pie Ala Mode!! It’s um… well it’s really pretty disgusting.

On the other hand, perhaps the next few videos can help you have very silly diversions…

Every 212.35 Days

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So there I was, minding my own business, wondering what I should write about for this week’s Happy Friday!!! thing, when suddenly, I remembered that holy cow, last Friday was the 13th, and I should find something to write about that, and I’m not sure why I’m using bold italics but here it is happening until I tell the computer to STOP IT AWREDDY!! Whew!! So then I had a thought in my head bone: “Friday the 13th – remember – it’s full of bad luck so try not to be superstitious!” so I said “Thank you” to my head bone because I was wondering what to write about tonight and now I know so there!

Just for the halibut, I used The Google Thing (TGT) to find out how often Friday the 13th happens. Well that took me to The Wikipedia Thing (TWT), which says “On average, there is a Friday the 13th once every 212.35 days, whereas Thursday the 13th occurs only once every 213.59 days.” We get one at least once a year, but it can happen as many as 3 times in a year.

Isn’t that special?

There was a period of my life when I was convinced Friday the 13th came much more often. You know that old saying: “If it wasn’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” I’m hoping that doesn’t apply to me. Back in “The Before Times” I was certain my luck really stunk; but I gradually discovered that all the “bad luck” was really a set of consequences that I inflicted upon myself due to some rather poor choices.

Nowadays I consider myself extremely fortunate. Of course, I’m trying to make better decisions. It has been especially helpful to shed my youthful follies that involved too many intoxicants; my affinity for which helped me rationalize all too many actions that were very unacceptable and too often very unkind. I don’t think I really left adolescence until I was 35 years old. After much pain and suffering (again, self inflicted) I actually got to a point where I wanted to grow up. I’m still trying to learn better behaviors… to stay teachable. I try to be kind to everyone I meet, and I’m getting better at being kind to myself.

Although I didn’t really expect it, as I reminisce about Friday the 13th it got me thinking about all this stuff. As I said, I really am very fortunate. I can very much agree with what a friend of mine often says: “90 percent of the world would love to have the problems I have.”

Well my friends, it’s winter again in Beautiful West Michigan. For those of you who escape to Florida around this time of year, please smell my toes as you understand that it’s 31 degrees and falling with lots of wind and some snow. I hope you’re happy!!! But seriously, I really am grateful for the turn of the seasons here in Michigan Land. Speaking of gratitude, now it’s time for me to say bye-bye while I plop some videos of a couple songs that have helped me “get better luck” over the years. They help me remember that it’s never too late to start all over again. Even if I have to do it multiple times a day.

Which I do from time to time… and it’s very HELPful.

This Is Dedicated To The ONES I Love

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What a beautiful time of year, don’t you think? It’s finally getting warm in Michigan, the ground and the sky will soon both be grey, the temperature is just warm enough to keep snow from falling and just cold enough to make your cheeks red. Spring is nowhere near yet, and the drudgery of winter is really beginning to wear on me and I’m thinking maybe you too. A great time to celebrate love, don’t you think??

It really IS a good time, actually. Don’t know how it came to be, but February 14 is the perfect time to celebrate warmth and care. Especially here in the temperate zone where spring is like a cake baking in a land far, far away. You can’t smell it yet, but you know Aunt Zelda is probably mixing up a wonderful batch that will be filling the air with fragrant bugs and flowery bird droppings from migratory species.

HUH??

You see, it’s like this… I for one need a nice warm fuzzy holiday at this time of year. I’m sick up and fed with the weather already. It’s a pain in the vinegaroon right now (click on that “vinegaroon” word… you’ll be amazed), and if we don’t get some kind of indication what season it is REALLY supposed to be, I will eat that big pile of dirt over there. See it? That pile of dirt?? Ha ha, I can’t eat it, it’s still frozen. Get my drift now?? Winter doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going. Weird weather… that so-called El Nino thing I guess. Warm one minute and cold the next. I’ve seen goldeneyes (migratory diving ducks) in the river flats, so I guess maybe spring is on the way. Seems like a long way off though. It’s above freezing in the daytime and brrrr-cold at night.

This is me, whining.

Anyway, my professional opinion is: the timing for Valentine’s Day is perfect. We need some warmth… and Valentine’s Day is a warm, fuzzy symbol of love. As I write this today, Friday, February 13, I can’t help thinking… this year is even more special than last year. Know why? Because this Valentine’s Day isn’t here yet, and last year’s is gone. See how I figured that out?? Isn’t that remarkable?? You know, it’s that carpe diem thing.

Sneeze the day.

Seize the sneeze.

Bless you!

Thanks!

Anyhow, Happy Valentine’s Day to all who find these words in front of your eye things. You needn’t have a sweetheart for this holiday… it’s a celebration of love, doggone it! A good excuse to do something nice, just for because. Sell a monkey some used pencils at three for a penny, for example. Or else grind up some beef flavored oatmeal and give your dog a nice treat for supper. Better yet, give all the objects in your home a really endearing nickname and offer to buy them snacks and beverages. If you want to be REALLY weird, do something nice for someone and don’t let them know who did it!

Maybe Valentine’s Day is simply God’s (whoever they are) way of giving us a little reminder that we can be warm and loving on more than just Christmas. Whatever. Just have some fun, be nice and maybe even tell someone you love them. Oh, and don’t eat too much chocolate.

Save some for ME.

Speaking of Love…it’s really all you need, don’t you think? Well… yes, absolutely.

Maus In Da Haus… Again!!

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Do not be afraid, but the title is pronounced “Mouse in da house.” This does not mean that I have rodents running around in my home. No, it refers to a delicious comfort food that I’ve shared on this silly blog thing from time to time. It’s really quite a nourishing and wonderfully satisfying mixture of mashed potatoes, barley, kale, and onions. I know I’ve written about this before but I don’t care because it’s still winter and this is a fabulous winter dish and besides it gave me the excuse to throw in a run-on sentence which is not terribly long but I’m pretty sure it qualifies as being run-on because it keeps going on and on and OK now it’s time to quit with the too long sentence awreddy.

Our dear friend Ruthie will be coming over in a week or so and is very much looking forward to enjoying this delicacy with us. And since I like to be different, this year’s Maus will be blue. Well more accurately grey with a touch of blue. It can’t be helped, you see… I grew Adirondack Blue potatoes; and they are blue inside and out! Not sure, but I have a feeling Mrs. Spoelma might get a kick out of blue Maus.

Mrs. Who Now??

God bless Mrs. Spoelma (pronounced “SPOOLma”), the “Hollander” (Michigan term for Dutch) lady who lived next door to us when we first moved to Muskegon. She and her husband were often outside in the yard, and we’d have many a conversation across the fence. That was 50 years ago (wow!!), and one couldn’t ask for nicer neighbors.

When our daughter came into the world, she started bringing us food. Most often, she brought an odd mashed potato dish we’d never had before. “This is Maus,” she said when she brought over the first batch. “It’s an old family recipe: mashed potatoes, kale, and barley. Oh and a little bit of onion, too.” It was simply wonderful. Perfect food for a couple of tree huggers with a brand new baby. Free food is always pretty doggoned perfect if you ask me; especially when it’s delicious. “Maus” is not merely wonderful as a side dish for meat and another vegetable, maybe even some gravy. It’s also especially yummy the following day, reheated with an over easy egg or two on top. MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

When I first wrote about Maus a few years ago I scoured the web for a recipe that resembled this remarkable dish. No such luck. After many variations of the words potato, mashed, kale, barley, and Dutch, I found several interesting cooking ideas but nothing that resembled what our dear Mrs. Spoelma made. After a little trial and error, I think I’ve been able to replicate the flavor pretty closely.

Because it’s so doggoned yummy, I feel it’s my duty to share the basics with you. I love to cook but I rarely follow any recipe exactly. Maus is no exception; but without further ado here is a rudimentary description. Try this and alter the quantities of barley, kale, and onions to your liking next time.

Maus: Delicious Mashed Potatoes, Kale, Barley and Onion

Ingredients:

Potatoes : enough to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than halfway when diced

Barley: ½ cup hulled barley (pearled barley is OK but not as nutritious as hulled)

Kale: 3 – 4 tightly packed cups, chopped

Onions: one large onion or 4 or 5 small onions, diced

½ stick of salted butter

½ cup of milk

salt to taste

Potatoes (I don’t peel them), barley, and kale will be cooked in separate pots.

Add more than enough water to the barley to cover, at least 2 inches higher than the barley. Boil the barley until tender, then drain, cover and set aside.

Add 1 cup water to the kale, and cover. Bring to boil, remove from heat after 2 or 3 minutes boiling. Toss the onions in with the kale and cover again, let that sit for about 5 minutes. The heat will cook the onions just enough. Drain, then set aside.

Wash and dice enough potatoes to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than half way (we leave the skins on). Fill with water till the potatoes are barely covered, and boil until tender, drain. Add butter and mash, adding milk and a dash or so of salt along the way. When the potatoes are creamy, add barley, kale and onions to the potatoes and mush together until mixed thoroughly. OK, you’re done! Now, don’t just stand there, it’s time to eat!!

By the way, this has nothing to do with Mouseketeers…