Well, the snow is falling on my G-mail screen. I guess that means it's snowing outside. I suppose it's about time. This has been an excellent fall. I am definitely looking forward to having a white Christmas.
Just waiting outside the classroom for Linux Level 2. This is my first course at the main U of W campus. The William Ave. location was bought by RRCC, and U of W Continuing Education will eventually be housed where United Army Surplus used to sit. Until that site is built the Continuing Ed dudes, me included, have been crammed into the backwaters of the main campus. My first impression on walking in to my first class on Tuesday was, "I wonder where they put all the used toner cartridges that they used to store in this room?"
Spartan environment aside, it's good to be back at school. I'm looking forward to getting this diploma finished.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Why do I Geocache?
I get asked this question fairly often. Sometimes I have trouble explaining why I spend the time and the gas money on finding plastic/metal containers for the sole reason of signing a logbook. It comes down to time. Given enough time I could relate a caching story from one of my finds that would paint the required picture and allow that person to see why I enjoy doing this so much.
Unfortunately, I sometimes find that my storytelling ability, or the story itself fails to convey my enthusiasm appropriately. More often than not, I am partially through describing one of my latest adventures when I notice that the interest level of my listener has diminished. The eyes glaze over, they just aren't getting my point. Or aren't interested in the activity. And that's fine.
There are also times, usually after a string of DNF's, or finding a number of less interesting "TFTC" type caches, that I question my own commitment to this activity. I have been far less active lately in finding geocaches. This has nothing to do with my enjoyment of it. I really do enjoy it. But I am finding that the quality of the (mostly urban) hides has diminished significantly in the past year or two. It seems that every cache I try to find within the city limits is either on, or ridiculously near, private property. Or it is undersized for the environment, or in a lousy, leaky container. But more than anything, it seems that quantity has taken the place of quality. Does there need to be a cache at every red-light camera? Every fire station? I think not. This lack of creativity sucks much of the enjoyment out of the sport for me. I'm not suggesting these caches shouldn't exist. Plenty of cachers find them and are happy for the numbers. I'm just saying that the game has changed, and I'm just not particularly fond of the direction it is headed. The spirit of geocaching is to find a container that holds trading items, coins, travel bugs as well as a logbook. Far too many urban hides contain a rolled up log strip and that is all. And they tend to be hidden in areas that can support a much larger container.
There seems to be much less consideration of the impact to the surrounding environment. The smaller the container, the more complex the search, and therefore the more damage to the surrounding area. There is also the issue of optics. People are not excited about strangers poking around in their back lanes, or along their fence line that backs on to a park space. I wish people would consider this when placing a cache. It's embarassing to be confronted by a nervous property owner because they think you're up to no good. And it does nothing to promote the sport as a fun family activity with a leaning towards environmental stewardship. Few kids enjoy finding nanos and micros with no chance of trading anything. And when you need to trample a patch of junipers or other greenery to find a film canister...well what's the point?
I left the city of Brandon after driving past 2 caches hidden on private property yesterday. I drove south on highway 10 with the intent to finally locate a cache I had been driving past for years: Grasshopper Glen. I had been told it was a beautiful area and well worth the search. The search itself once I got to the site was rather easy and the container was chock full of trading items. I look forward to bringing my family back here.
Getting to the site was a significant challenge for me due to not being familiar with the area. In the end, I was thankful for this because of the sights I saw, and the neat places I found. One such place was a network of horseback riding trails.
This story is why I love going geocaching. Even though the wrong trail led me no closer to the cache, it was that effort that made my entire day worthwhile. In the same amount of time it took me to find this one cache, I could have likely looked for 30 urban micros. But I guarantee that none of those finds would have inspiried me the way that this silent river valley did.
Unfortunately, I sometimes find that my storytelling ability, or the story itself fails to convey my enthusiasm appropriately. More often than not, I am partially through describing one of my latest adventures when I notice that the interest level of my listener has diminished. The eyes glaze over, they just aren't getting my point. Or aren't interested in the activity. And that's fine.
There are also times, usually after a string of DNF's, or finding a number of less interesting "TFTC" type caches, that I question my own commitment to this activity. I have been far less active lately in finding geocaches. This has nothing to do with my enjoyment of it. I really do enjoy it. But I am finding that the quality of the (mostly urban) hides has diminished significantly in the past year or two. It seems that every cache I try to find within the city limits is either on, or ridiculously near, private property. Or it is undersized for the environment, or in a lousy, leaky container. But more than anything, it seems that quantity has taken the place of quality. Does there need to be a cache at every red-light camera? Every fire station? I think not. This lack of creativity sucks much of the enjoyment out of the sport for me. I'm not suggesting these caches shouldn't exist. Plenty of cachers find them and are happy for the numbers. I'm just saying that the game has changed, and I'm just not particularly fond of the direction it is headed. The spirit of geocaching is to find a container that holds trading items, coins, travel bugs as well as a logbook. Far too many urban hides contain a rolled up log strip and that is all. And they tend to be hidden in areas that can support a much larger container.
There seems to be much less consideration of the impact to the surrounding environment. The smaller the container, the more complex the search, and therefore the more damage to the surrounding area. There is also the issue of optics. People are not excited about strangers poking around in their back lanes, or along their fence line that backs on to a park space. I wish people would consider this when placing a cache. It's embarassing to be confronted by a nervous property owner because they think you're up to no good. And it does nothing to promote the sport as a fun family activity with a leaning towards environmental stewardship. Few kids enjoy finding nanos and micros with no chance of trading anything. And when you need to trample a patch of junipers or other greenery to find a film canister...well what's the point?
I left the city of Brandon after driving past 2 caches hidden on private property yesterday. I drove south on highway 10 with the intent to finally locate a cache I had been driving past for years: Grasshopper Glen. I had been told it was a beautiful area and well worth the search. The search itself once I got to the site was rather easy and the container was chock full of trading items. I look forward to bringing my family back here.
Getting to the site was a significant challenge for me due to not being familiar with the area. In the end, I was thankful for this because of the sights I saw, and the neat places I found. One such place was a network of horseback riding trails.
In one of my attempts to find the correct road in to the site I found this winding trail that led through a forest, and snaked down a steep hill. It was wide enough for the truck so I followed it. It opened up into this vast beautiful valley and a wide bend in the Souris river. It was just cold enough for the river to still have an insulating crust of ice. There was no wind at all. Not a breath. I turned off the engine, got out of the truck and looked around. I was in the middle of a valley that was about a kilometre wide. There was no apparent wildlife, although I suspect they were just out of sight, watching me as I made my way into their home and wandered around their living room.
The surrounding hills were high; at least by Manitoba standards. As I walked down to the edge of the water I was amazed at the deafening quiet. There was not a sound. As I mentioned, there was no wind to speak of, and this rendered the grounded leaves mute. At least until they were mashed under my feet as I walked. The surface ice offered no clue, audible or visual of the water that was rushing beneath it. I stood there for a very long time. It was like viewing a vast painting. The only noise that penetrated the silence was my own breathing. If I held my breath, I was completely overwhelmed by quiet.
It. Was. Awesome.
This story is why I love going geocaching. Even though the wrong trail led me no closer to the cache, it was that effort that made my entire day worthwhile. In the same amount of time it took me to find this one cache, I could have likely looked for 30 urban micros. But I guarantee that none of those finds would have inspiried me the way that this silent river valley did.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Pork Chop Glaze
Just a recipe for a tasty after-grilling glaze for pork chops.
Juice box of apple juice (It's all I had)
2 tsp brown sugar or real Canadian maple syrup
1 tsp curry powder
Reduce over medium heat while chops are grilling. At the end, add a pat of butter and a tablespoon of corn starch slurry to thicken if desired. Pour over cooked chops while they rest after cooking.
Juice box of apple juice (It's all I had)
2 tsp brown sugar or real Canadian maple syrup
1 tsp curry powder
Reduce over medium heat while chops are grilling. At the end, add a pat of butter and a tablespoon of corn starch slurry to thicken if desired. Pour over cooked chops while they rest after cooking.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tub Drain
This post is for posterity. I need to remember this event.
Tonight was designated bath night for Mitch. So after mapping out all of the events of the evening over Mexican chicken wraps and cleaning up the kitchen, I asked Brooke if she would fill the tub for Mitch.
I busied myself fixing a software issue of Tannis' while I listened to the tub fill up in the bathroom a floor above me. After about 4 minutes, Brooke comes to me and says that the tub is filling really slowly and the water is coming out of the tap "like, this much", showing me her fingers in pinch mode about an inch apart. Not knowing exactly how to convert that measure into fluid flow, I decide it is time to check it out. I ask her to wait one sec while I finish up.
Mitch takes this as his cue to go upstairs and take matters into his own hands. Brooke, feeling threatened by this, storms after him gargling his name as she does when she is mad at him. I hear much stomping and frustrated words and some door closing and harumphing. Time to inject some Dad into this situation.
So I go upstairs and take stock of the situation. Mitch has been banished to his room by his sister who, for some reason, has locked herself in the bathroom and has worked herself into quite a lather. I can hear her in there stomping around and opening and closing the cupboard doors.
I manage to make my way into the bathroom and am immediately confronted head-on by the seething ire of my once-shy little 9 year old daughter. "I don't have time for this! Do I have to deal with YOU too?"
What? Isn't that what I'M supposed to be saying?
I calmly (honestly, you can ask her) tell her she needs to go to her room. As she goes, I take stock of the situation...this time in text-based RPG style.
"You are in a bathroom. There are 7 different kinds of bubble bath on the counter. The tub is half full of cool water. The tap is still running. There is a dirty 7 year old boy at the door, fully clothed. You hear crying in a nearby room."
>Turn it off.
I don't understand.
>Turn off the water.
The water shuts off.
>Tell the boy to get undressed and get into the tub.
The water is too cold.
>Warm up the water
How would you like me to do that?
>Turn on the hot water tap
Hot water runs into the tub.
>Tell the boy to get into the tub and turn off the hot water when it is warm enough.
...etc.
So I go and calm the girl down by sitting in her room with her and speaking in calm monotone and playing Lego with her. This eventually placates her to the point of reasonable normalcy. After about 10 mins, I hear a sheepish "Dad?" from the bathroom.
I know what you are thinking. You've been waiting for it ever since you read that I sent the girl up to fill the tub up with water. My kids are alot of things, but they are not likely to sit in a tub and do nothing as it fills with water to the point of overflowing. So you can just erase that image from your mind right now.
The image you DO need in your mind is that of a naked, semi-moist, 7 year old boy perched on the edge of the tub gargoyle-style with a look on his face I can only describe as fear. Not red alert fear, but we are leaving yellow alert and crossing the line into orange.
"What's going on?"
"I don't wanna be in the tub anymore."
"Why not?" at the same time thinking, 'What's he got in his hand?'
"I found this in the drain.", he says, holding up a clump of Idon'tknowwhat. I should explain that our tub has a "hidden" stopper. You can still put fingers and toes into the strainer basket even with the stopper on. It's not as if we have massive tufts of hair making their way out of the drain around the edges of the rubber stopper.
I grab the offending thing, and dispatch it into the garbage.
"IT WAS TICKLING MY FOOT!"
"Dude, relax. It's no big deal it's just a little hair or something."
"And there's some sort of slippery lumps in the tub! What IS that?"
"Where?"
"I was sitting on them...there. I could feel them with my BUTT!"
"It's just some soap or something." I rub my hand over the whatthehellisthats on the bottom of the tub. Mini bath beads that weren't rinsed out properly. I tell the boy this but he is not satisfied.
Starting to laugh, he says, "I'm.having.a.shower."
This gets us both laughing so hard we can barely function as I drain the tub and start the shower.
I love being a dad.
Tonight was designated bath night for Mitch. So after mapping out all of the events of the evening over Mexican chicken wraps and cleaning up the kitchen, I asked Brooke if she would fill the tub for Mitch.
I busied myself fixing a software issue of Tannis' while I listened to the tub fill up in the bathroom a floor above me. After about 4 minutes, Brooke comes to me and says that the tub is filling really slowly and the water is coming out of the tap "like, this much", showing me her fingers in pinch mode about an inch apart. Not knowing exactly how to convert that measure into fluid flow, I decide it is time to check it out. I ask her to wait one sec while I finish up.
Mitch takes this as his cue to go upstairs and take matters into his own hands. Brooke, feeling threatened by this, storms after him gargling his name as she does when she is mad at him. I hear much stomping and frustrated words and some door closing and harumphing. Time to inject some Dad into this situation.
So I go upstairs and take stock of the situation. Mitch has been banished to his room by his sister who, for some reason, has locked herself in the bathroom and has worked herself into quite a lather. I can hear her in there stomping around and opening and closing the cupboard doors.
I manage to make my way into the bathroom and am immediately confronted head-on by the seething ire of my once-shy little 9 year old daughter. "I don't have time for this! Do I have to deal with YOU too?"
What? Isn't that what I'M supposed to be saying?
I calmly (honestly, you can ask her) tell her she needs to go to her room. As she goes, I take stock of the situation...this time in text-based RPG style.
"You are in a bathroom. There are 7 different kinds of bubble bath on the counter. The tub is half full of cool water. The tap is still running. There is a dirty 7 year old boy at the door, fully clothed. You hear crying in a nearby room."
>Turn it off.
I don't understand.
>Turn off the water.
The water shuts off.
>Tell the boy to get undressed and get into the tub.
The water is too cold.
>Warm up the water
How would you like me to do that?
>Turn on the hot water tap
Hot water runs into the tub.
>Tell the boy to get into the tub and turn off the hot water when it is warm enough.
...etc.
So I go and calm the girl down by sitting in her room with her and speaking in calm monotone and playing Lego with her. This eventually placates her to the point of reasonable normalcy. After about 10 mins, I hear a sheepish "Dad?" from the bathroom.
I know what you are thinking. You've been waiting for it ever since you read that I sent the girl up to fill the tub up with water. My kids are alot of things, but they are not likely to sit in a tub and do nothing as it fills with water to the point of overflowing. So you can just erase that image from your mind right now.
The image you DO need in your mind is that of a naked, semi-moist, 7 year old boy perched on the edge of the tub gargoyle-style with a look on his face I can only describe as fear. Not red alert fear, but we are leaving yellow alert and crossing the line into orange.
"What's going on?"
"I don't wanna be in the tub anymore."
"Why not?" at the same time thinking, 'What's he got in his hand?'
"I found this in the drain.", he says, holding up a clump of Idon'tknowwhat. I should explain that our tub has a "hidden" stopper. You can still put fingers and toes into the strainer basket even with the stopper on. It's not as if we have massive tufts of hair making their way out of the drain around the edges of the rubber stopper.
I grab the offending thing, and dispatch it into the garbage.
"IT WAS TICKLING MY FOOT!"
"Dude, relax. It's no big deal it's just a little hair or something."
"And there's some sort of slippery lumps in the tub! What IS that?"
"Where?"
"I was sitting on them...there. I could feel them with my BUTT!"
"It's just some soap or something." I rub my hand over the whatthehellisthats on the bottom of the tub. Mini bath beads that weren't rinsed out properly. I tell the boy this but he is not satisfied.
Starting to laugh, he says, "I'm.having.a.shower."
This gets us both laughing so hard we can barely function as I drain the tub and start the shower.
I love being a dad.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Earn your right to complain..
What irks me is the people who have either logged finds or DNF's on the cache have made a point of complaining about all of the garbage in the area, but have not done anything about cleaning it up. One person went so far as to demand that the cache be moved, or arrange to have someone go and clean up the space. OK. If you wish to point out that there is garbage in the area, fine. It is good advice for the next cachers. But PICK SOMETHING UP. Especially if you have kids with you. These are the lessons that kids need to learn. My kids will now pick up "safe" garbage even when we are not out caching. Safe, meaning that it isn't broken glass, or anything like that.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I'm on twitter (geolizardo). I feel a little dirtier. But I'm still not on Facebook...so that's something.
Did you know that you can follow just about anybody on Twitter? Now, whether or not you are following the ACTUAL person is anyones guess. But I submit to you that it would be more interesting to follow a fake celebrity than an actual one.
I learned that nearly all celebrities from politicians to porn stars use Twitter to further their own agenda.
Did you know that you can follow just about anybody on Twitter? Now, whether or not you are following the ACTUAL person is anyones guess. But I submit to you that it would be more interesting to follow a fake celebrity than an actual one.
I learned that nearly all celebrities from politicians to porn stars use Twitter to further their own agenda.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Lift/Transfer Dummy- The Michael Meyers Model
How creepy is this? There are not many ways that this could be made to be more disturbing, and still be allowed to be used in a care home setting. Paint stained coveralls, a longshoremans touque, and yes, that is duck tape wrapped around his head mafia-style. And is it just my eye, or does he appear to be reaching "down there" pleasuring himself to the thoughts of the first time he heard Jamie Lee Curtis' scream? Another ghastly feature of this fellow is his lack of feet. So it appears he was "hobbled" before he was aysphyxiated with duck tape.
I can only hope that this isn't a mandatory inservice for all staff. Because I definitely don't need to see any more of this guy.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Y - M - C - A!
We have been visiting the YMCA now about 3 times a week. Mostly as a family, which has been very enjoyable. This past Sunday we started the kids in their swimming lessons at 1:30pm. Tannis and I thought it would be fun for us to sit in the hot tub/steam room while the kids were in their class, and since it was the last swimming class of the afternoon, join them for a play in the pool afterwards. Whee!
Unfortunately the hot tub had a sign on it that there had been a "fouling". I guess some processed pablum slipped out of a little swimmer. Fair enough, I decided to watch for the 30 mins the kids were in the lesson and then change out for playtime after that. But what do I see when I look in the hot tub...the sign has recently been removed and sitting there in the tub with a big grin, is my wife!
I question her motives for being the first swimmer in the hot tub after the fouling sign had been removed. She tells me that they were just adjusting the pH of the hot tub and don't have a "We're adjusting the pH" sign, so they use the fouling sign. I ask her how she knows that and she says that the other lady in the tub told her that. When I glance over to that lady, she shrugs and says, "well, probably".
O-kay.
It's been a couple of days, and so far no fecal-bourne illnesses, so I remain hopeful.
We had a great time in the pool, and Mitch decided that afterwards he is going to climb the rock wall. So off we go to shower and get changed.
I'll stop here to say that I really like the new disign at the Y. Lots of (free) lockers, nice big pool, waterslides (although I have NEVER seen the red one in operation..why?), all the new machines and extra parking. But they missed 2 things. There needs to be an entrance off the parking lot, and the showers suck.
Why must I bring my kid through the sausage factory when I leave the pool? It is impossible to make it from the pool to the lockers without walking past every shower head (pun intended). This is unneccessary. I'm not a prude. At all. But a shower is a shower and a hallway is a hallway. N'er the two shall meet.
And there is nowhere practical to hang a towel while you shower. They have these weird grab bars, that are too far away, and too small to be useful. When I tried to engage my wife in my rant later, she says, "Don't you have hooks on the back of your shower door?"
WHAT!?
Ugh. Well, there's no way they're going to change the men's showers to the extent of adding doors, but it sure would be nice to see some hooks. I'm starting to see why the Village People were motivated to sing about this place.
Unfortunately the hot tub had a sign on it that there had been a "fouling". I guess some processed pablum slipped out of a little swimmer. Fair enough, I decided to watch for the 30 mins the kids were in the lesson and then change out for playtime after that. But what do I see when I look in the hot tub...the sign has recently been removed and sitting there in the tub with a big grin, is my wife!
I question her motives for being the first swimmer in the hot tub after the fouling sign had been removed. She tells me that they were just adjusting the pH of the hot tub and don't have a "We're adjusting the pH" sign, so they use the fouling sign. I ask her how she knows that and she says that the other lady in the tub told her that. When I glance over to that lady, she shrugs and says, "well, probably".
O-kay.
It's been a couple of days, and so far no fecal-bourne illnesses, so I remain hopeful.
We had a great time in the pool, and Mitch decided that afterwards he is going to climb the rock wall. So off we go to shower and get changed.
I'll stop here to say that I really like the new disign at the Y. Lots of (free) lockers, nice big pool, waterslides (although I have NEVER seen the red one in operation..why?), all the new machines and extra parking. But they missed 2 things. There needs to be an entrance off the parking lot, and the showers suck.
Why must I bring my kid through the sausage factory when I leave the pool? It is impossible to make it from the pool to the lockers without walking past every shower head (pun intended). This is unneccessary. I'm not a prude. At all. But a shower is a shower and a hallway is a hallway. N'er the two shall meet.
And there is nowhere practical to hang a towel while you shower. They have these weird grab bars, that are too far away, and too small to be useful. When I tried to engage my wife in my rant later, she says, "Don't you have hooks on the back of your shower door?"
WHAT!?
Ugh. Well, there's no way they're going to change the men's showers to the extent of adding doors, but it sure would be nice to see some hooks. I'm starting to see why the Village People were motivated to sing about this place.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Review - George's Burgers and Subs - OPA!
I was out shopping and had some time too kill just after noon. And having missed breakfast, I was feeling rather hungry. I was about to head home when I decided to try a place I had never been, but oft considered.
I arrived at the right time. I was lucky to get a table right away as shortly after I sat down I noticed a lineup build that was still evident when I left 30 mins later. There is no possible way for this establishment to fit any more patrons into this restaurant. The challenge of a roundish dining room was met by the finest Greek engineers and I am certain that aside from messing with the fabric of space-time, there is no way another seat could be added. And it seemed oddly out of scale. It reminded me of those Fisher Price play houses that had rooms that were just big enough for the furniture, but that was it. No walking about allowed. Which I suppose is fine, as Fisher Price people only have that roundish base so you can stuff them into their various vehicles. No feet.
I was completely surrounded by the all too discernable coversations around me. The people next to me were new acquaintances. They met the night before at the bar and spent the night together. She was still wearing her bar clothes and what remained of her up-do. He was wearing fresh clothes, and a pretty obvious hickey.
The booth behind me was crammed full of at least 6 guys, one of which had brought his five year old daughter because "the wife was out shopping". These guys belonged here. Fixtures. They were talking about horsepower, hunting, drywall compound, and the waitresses ass. These were men. All of them divorced, save for the latecomer with the 5 year old. But, honestly, any guy that refers to his life partner, and the mother of his child as "the wife" is standing on the sidelines of the painful game of divorce. But I digress.
The menu here is no surprise. You will find the same fare at a dozen different places in the city. Notably Steve's on Ness, the Olympia on Portage, and Johnny's on Marion. I decide I will try the Double Fat Boy platter. It was awesome. I have always thought that even though shredded lettuce is a bit messier lettuce-wise, it prevents a more stain inducing condiment based mishap that can be caused by full leaves of lettuce. I couldn't finish the whole thing. I ended up leaving half of the fries, and a couple of bites of the burger. The whole thing came to 12 dollars including tip and an iced tea.
So there it is. You have just read an entire page only to find out that Greeks know how to make a decent Fat Boy Platter. Which is a fact you already knew. I'm sorry. Please direct all complaints to the comments link below.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Well, hello.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Review - Princess Grill
I just got another response to my less than glowing (and far from official) review of the Lovey's BBQ restaurant. This has prompted me to consider that people are actually reading these musings so perhaps I should juxtapose my dissatisfaction with Lovey's with a thought stream about a restaurant I DO like.
Enter: the Princess Grill.
I don't know the history of this place, but I bet it's interesting. I saw a writeup in the Sun earlier this year, and thought I would try to make an effort to visit. Last week, I had some time, so I found myself a parking spot among the construction and went for breakfast.
The decor is clean and very basic. I like that in a breakfast place. I get nervous when there are hanging plants and doilies on the tables. You can count on your breakfast costing you a good dollar more just so you can have a plant near your table.
I was immediately greeted by a pretty, smiling face and given a menu and a coffee. I'm guessing Folgers. Hot and good. And served in one of those thick, white porcelain cups. Clear glass mugs are for the doily restaurant and giveaways at Domo.
I opted for the breakfast special: Sausage, Over Easy, and Brown toast. As I waited, I read the newspaper I brought. This proved to be a bit of a challenge. Note to future visitors, if you wish to read the paper, bring a headlamp, or sit closer to one of the many windows. I only had to wait about 10 minutes. Although I wish my eggs had shown up a couple minutes earlier. By the time the whole ensemble had made it to me, the eggs looked delicious, but they were rather cold.
The rest of the cast was excellent. The real potato hash browns were done nicely, and the sausages were split, but not overcooked. And the toast (hard to screw up toast) was hot and lightly buttered. I'd also like to note that the sausages were served on top of the potatoes. This is a nice presentation method.
One criticism I have about many breakfast joints, this one included, is the toast toppings and how they are offered. I dislike when the selection is decided for me and there is one jam packet placed on the plate with the toast. This was the case here. I would rather be given nothing and had to have asked for my preference than to have to appear to be dissatisfied with the selection given and ask for another. Some places have that top loading, bottom serving jam-a-rama deal that gives you ready access to 8 packets each of at least 6 flavors. This is the other side of the spectrum, and although appreciated, not necessarily required. A good middle road is the small bowl at the table with, say, a half dozen random packets in it. And as long as there is at least one peanut butter, and another non-marmalade choice, we're good.
Breakfast special including coffee came to slightly north of $7.00. Another 1.50 for the tip. I would have felt a bit better had the eggs been warm. But I will be back. I enjoyed it very much overall.
Enter: the Princess Grill.
I don't know the history of this place, but I bet it's interesting. I saw a writeup in the Sun earlier this year, and thought I would try to make an effort to visit. Last week, I had some time, so I found myself a parking spot among the construction and went for breakfast.
The decor is clean and very basic. I like that in a breakfast place. I get nervous when there are hanging plants and doilies on the tables. You can count on your breakfast costing you a good dollar more just so you can have a plant near your table.
I was immediately greeted by a pretty, smiling face and given a menu and a coffee. I'm guessing Folgers. Hot and good. And served in one of those thick, white porcelain cups. Clear glass mugs are for the doily restaurant and giveaways at Domo.
I opted for the breakfast special: Sausage, Over Easy, and Brown toast. As I waited, I read the newspaper I brought. This proved to be a bit of a challenge. Note to future visitors, if you wish to read the paper, bring a headlamp, or sit closer to one of the many windows. I only had to wait about 10 minutes. Although I wish my eggs had shown up a couple minutes earlier. By the time the whole ensemble had made it to me, the eggs looked delicious, but they were rather cold.
The rest of the cast was excellent. The real potato hash browns were done nicely, and the sausages were split, but not overcooked. And the toast (hard to screw up toast) was hot and lightly buttered. I'd also like to note that the sausages were served on top of the potatoes. This is a nice presentation method.
One criticism I have about many breakfast joints, this one included, is the toast toppings and how they are offered. I dislike when the selection is decided for me and there is one jam packet placed on the plate with the toast. This was the case here. I would rather be given nothing and had to have asked for my preference than to have to appear to be dissatisfied with the selection given and ask for another. Some places have that top loading, bottom serving jam-a-rama deal that gives you ready access to 8 packets each of at least 6 flavors. This is the other side of the spectrum, and although appreciated, not necessarily required. A good middle road is the small bowl at the table with, say, a half dozen random packets in it. And as long as there is at least one peanut butter, and another non-marmalade choice, we're good.
Breakfast special including coffee came to slightly north of $7.00. Another 1.50 for the tip. I would have felt a bit better had the eggs been warm. But I will be back. I enjoyed it very much overall.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Good for you, Brad
I have been following the Luann strip lazily for the past few years. It's a pretty effortless read. I liked the story line where the parents buy a neighbors house as a flip opportunity and their son ends up staying there, and his friend TJ nearly burns it down. Apparently for me: house fires=hilarity.Anyhow, around that same time they introduced the Toni Daytona character as an unattainable target for Brad's affections. It has taken over a year (or more?) but they have finally "hooked up". On one hand, on behalf of all my semi-attractive brethren, I am happy for Brad's new relationship. But let's be serious. I think this would be somewhat more believable if Brad looked a little less like Bert. Or perhaps Toni should look a little more like Bert.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Beer Can Chicken
This is by no means a cutting edge, or unique process. This is a method I had seen deployed numerous times on countless cooking shows. But I had never tried it myself.
Yesterday was the day. Father's Day. The day a man is required to grill the family dinner. At least that's the way it reads in the manual I follow. So this is that day I decide to try sodomizing a chicken carcass with a half a can of beer. That last sentence should make the results list of some rather spicy Google searches. Sorry, freak. No pictures here. Keep looking.
A simpler method, there could not be. You cover the chicken with your favorite rub, insert can, and place on a sacrificial baking sheet on the barbeque and keep the temperature slightly north of 300 degrees till it's done. Use indirect heat.
Trust me, it's amazing.
Yesterday was the day. Father's Day. The day a man is required to grill the family dinner. At least that's the way it reads in the manual I follow. So this is that day I decide to try sodomizing a chicken carcass with a half a can of beer. That last sentence should make the results list of some rather spicy Google searches. Sorry, freak. No pictures here. Keep looking.
A simpler method, there could not be. You cover the chicken with your favorite rub, insert can, and place on a sacrificial baking sheet on the barbeque and keep the temperature slightly north of 300 degrees till it's done. Use indirect heat.
Trust me, it's amazing.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Rock Climbing
So I come home last Monday and over dinner I ask Mitchell if he remembers being at the YMCA and the rock climbing wall they have there. He assures me he definitely DOES remember. The reason for this clarity of thought is because he was not allowed to climb the wall due to the fact that he was only 5 years old when we were there last. The rules are that you must be at least 6 years old and weigh 40 pounds or more.
So seeing that he is now able to meet both requirements of the rock climbing pre-requisites, I ask them both if they would like to go back to the "Y" to try rock climbing and maybe some swimming.
A more enthusiastic yes, I could not have asked for. At least from the Mitch side of the table. Brooke chewed on the idea, along with her dinner for a couple of minutes and asked "Is there anything else that we can do there?". I kind of expected this response from her as she is somewhat less adventurous than her brother. She derives pleasure from more cerebral pursuits. Although she does have the capacity to surprise. More on that later.
We decide to go on the following Monday. This is not very popular with my wife. She can't attend on Mondays because of TOPS. Oh well. We would be sure to tell her all about it when we got home.
The concept of "next Monday" is somewhat lost on Mitch. So the use of the calendar is immediately deployed to help him visualize when exactly "next Monday" was. Until then, he was all ready to finish his supper and run out the front door and sit in the van.
It took an entire week, but eventually the day came. I put Mitch to bed on Sunday night and reminded him (unnecessarily) of the upcoming day at the Y after supper tomorrow. He was well aware, to say the least. I reminded him that the trip was not automatic. That he had to be well behaved tomorrow for mom. And wake up and get dressed when he was told to. He assured me that wouldn't be a problem.
Monday morning was interesting. Usually it is difficult to get Mitch out of bed. Well all it took was one wake up call and the next thing I know, he's standing in my bedroom all dressed and announcing "Look, Dad, I'm ready to go to school!".
I got home around 5:20. We had to be there by 6:00, so we had a frenzied dinner of PB&J's and out the door we went.
We got there and Mitch got rigged out and took to the wall right away. Brooke was happy to play on the play structure and the exercise bike. It took Mitch about 25 minutes, but he eventually made it all the way to the top of the wall.
We got into the pool for 7:00 and swam for a half hour before heading home. Right after the swim, we went in the steam room for a bit. Oh, man, I love steam rooms! I think come fall, we will likely join as a family. Now that the kids are a little older, there is sooo much for them to do there.
So seeing that he is now able to meet both requirements of the rock climbing pre-requisites, I ask them both if they would like to go back to the "Y" to try rock climbing and maybe some swimming.
A more enthusiastic yes, I could not have asked for. At least from the Mitch side of the table. Brooke chewed on the idea, along with her dinner for a couple of minutes and asked "Is there anything else that we can do there?". I kind of expected this response from her as she is somewhat less adventurous than her brother. She derives pleasure from more cerebral pursuits. Although she does have the capacity to surprise. More on that later.
We decide to go on the following Monday. This is not very popular with my wife. She can't attend on Mondays because of TOPS. Oh well. We would be sure to tell her all about it when we got home.
The concept of "next Monday" is somewhat lost on Mitch. So the use of the calendar is immediately deployed to help him visualize when exactly "next Monday" was. Until then, he was all ready to finish his supper and run out the front door and sit in the van.
It took an entire week, but eventually the day came. I put Mitch to bed on Sunday night and reminded him (unnecessarily) of the upcoming day at the Y after supper tomorrow. He was well aware, to say the least. I reminded him that the trip was not automatic. That he had to be well behaved tomorrow for mom. And wake up and get dressed when he was told to. He assured me that wouldn't be a problem.
Monday morning was interesting. Usually it is difficult to get Mitch out of bed. Well all it took was one wake up call and the next thing I know, he's standing in my bedroom all dressed and announcing "Look, Dad, I'm ready to go to school!".
I got home around 5:20. We had to be there by 6:00, so we had a frenzied dinner of PB&J's and out the door we went.
We got there and Mitch got rigged out and took to the wall right away. Brooke was happy to play on the play structure and the exercise bike. It took Mitch about 25 minutes, but he eventually made it all the way to the top of the wall.
We got into the pool for 7:00 and swam for a half hour before heading home. Right after the swim, we went in the steam room for a bit. Oh, man, I love steam rooms! I think come fall, we will likely join as a family. Now that the kids are a little older, there is sooo much for them to do there.
Monday, June 15, 2009
My 41st Birthday
It was a great weekend!
My birthday was Saturday June 13th. I had a super day, or I should say, Weekend.
Last year was my big 4-0. My wife took it upon herself to plan an extravagant party at Westhawk Lake. She invited friends to come out to camp or just to party for the day and head home. So many of my friends were there and I had an awesome time. From flying the plane in Kenora, to losing most of my frontal body hair to the Jengafire on both evenings.
This year however, I gave strict instructions. No big parties. As a matter of fact, no parties that involved people outside of my immediate family. I was intent on taking it easy this year and have a nice relaxing day with my family. No frenzied activity. No entertaining. No stress. I love to have a party. And my friends are fantastic people that I rarely get to see. But this year was going to be a quiet one. I have spoken.
As far as a gift was concerned, I asked for nothing other than a day of my family's time on my birthday and as a special gift from my wife; a day of her time so we could take a geocaching road trip together. And, she agreed. Cool. Not like she had much choice. As I said before...I had spoken.
The day began the way most household birthdays do. Breakfast in bed with all of us crowding into our bed and trying not to spill anything. Then the kids presented me with their fantastic hand made projects. The pride and appreciation I feel when I recieve the artistic results of the solitary labor of one of my children is immeasurable. As I pour over the detail of their gifts I try to imagine what they might have been thinking while drawing/painting/stapling/glueing this particular object. I imagine them sitting their desks, faces barely an inch from the paper as they fastidiously colour with crayons and markers. Their bodies shaking in time with the fervent pistoning of their little arm. These are the gifts that matter. I definitely am not looking forward to the day when they discover the convenience of exchanging money for a pre-printed Hallmark sentiment that is shared among a few dozen recipinents, who, other than the card, have absolutely nothing in common. Of course I'll appreciate them. But I'll miss the other. Alot.
So after the cards come the gifts. I truly was expecting, and hoping for nothing. But as it turned out, I got some shower products from my kids, and a surprise from my wife.
I have never owned a leather jacket. I have never found a jacket that fits and was at a price that I could justify paying. I have periodically mused aloud at how I would like to have a nice leather coat. And I have shopped in the past, but I needed the eye of my wife for final approval. I mean, lets face it, I look amazing in any coat, but she's the one that will be looking at me. I want her to swoon just right.
Well it turns out that this is the birthday I got a leather jacket. And she shopped for it on her own. And it fit me. And it was perfect. The perfect gift for a guy who wanted nothing. Get him something he didn't know he wanted. Awesome.
After that, we just hung around for a bit at the house. Later we decided to go on a picnic. So we grabbed some sandwiches at Subway and headed to Whittier Park to have a picnic and replace a geocache that I had removed while the water was high. After we did those things, we went for a 3 km walk around the Whittier and Lagimodiere Gaboury parks and walked back to the car through the streets of St Boniface. All in all, a pretty happy day.
Then we dropped off the kids at Grandma and Grampas and went to The Line Up for a yummy dinner. We had planned to go out for drinks later, but somehow that never happened. I had a great day.
My birthday was Saturday June 13th. I had a super day, or I should say, Weekend.
Last year was my big 4-0. My wife took it upon herself to plan an extravagant party at Westhawk Lake. She invited friends to come out to camp or just to party for the day and head home. So many of my friends were there and I had an awesome time. From flying the plane in Kenora, to losing most of my frontal body hair to the Jengafire on both evenings.
This year however, I gave strict instructions. No big parties. As a matter of fact, no parties that involved people outside of my immediate family. I was intent on taking it easy this year and have a nice relaxing day with my family. No frenzied activity. No entertaining. No stress. I love to have a party. And my friends are fantastic people that I rarely get to see. But this year was going to be a quiet one. I have spoken.
As far as a gift was concerned, I asked for nothing other than a day of my family's time on my birthday and as a special gift from my wife; a day of her time so we could take a geocaching road trip together. And, she agreed. Cool. Not like she had much choice. As I said before...I had spoken.
The day began the way most household birthdays do. Breakfast in bed with all of us crowding into our bed and trying not to spill anything. Then the kids presented me with their fantastic hand made projects. The pride and appreciation I feel when I recieve the artistic results of the solitary labor of one of my children is immeasurable. As I pour over the detail of their gifts I try to imagine what they might have been thinking while drawing/painting/stapling/glueing this particular object. I imagine them sitting their desks, faces barely an inch from the paper as they fastidiously colour with crayons and markers. Their bodies shaking in time with the fervent pistoning of their little arm. These are the gifts that matter. I definitely am not looking forward to the day when they discover the convenience of exchanging money for a pre-printed Hallmark sentiment that is shared among a few dozen recipinents, who, other than the card, have absolutely nothing in common. Of course I'll appreciate them. But I'll miss the other. Alot.
So after the cards come the gifts. I truly was expecting, and hoping for nothing. But as it turned out, I got some shower products from my kids, and a surprise from my wife.
I have never owned a leather jacket. I have never found a jacket that fits and was at a price that I could justify paying. I have periodically mused aloud at how I would like to have a nice leather coat. And I have shopped in the past, but I needed the eye of my wife for final approval. I mean, lets face it, I look amazing in any coat, but she's the one that will be looking at me. I want her to swoon just right.
Well it turns out that this is the birthday I got a leather jacket. And she shopped for it on her own. And it fit me. And it was perfect. The perfect gift for a guy who wanted nothing. Get him something he didn't know he wanted. Awesome.
After that, we just hung around for a bit at the house. Later we decided to go on a picnic. So we grabbed some sandwiches at Subway and headed to Whittier Park to have a picnic and replace a geocache that I had removed while the water was high. After we did those things, we went for a 3 km walk around the Whittier and Lagimodiere Gaboury parks and walked back to the car through the streets of St Boniface. All in all, a pretty happy day.
Then we dropped off the kids at Grandma and Grampas and went to The Line Up for a yummy dinner. We had planned to go out for drinks later, but somehow that never happened. I had a great day.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Nice Hand Cream
Double standards.
The world is full of them. I try not to get too excited about it. For the most part, I find them amusing. This one especially.
Today I found myself in another coworkers office sitting at their desk. This is not an uncommon occurrence as I am the IT guy. I spend WAY more time at other peoples desks than I do my own. I also spend alot of time watching a computer screen. Usually the prominent visual on that screen is the scrolling percentage counter of an installing application or ongoing process. That is, you see, my raison d'etre. I install and reconfigure stuff to make it work better.
In the cases where the caravan of pixels takes a longer time to populate than usual, I sometimes look around at the various items of personality that satisfies the users need of identity in the workplace. Where a lesser being would take the time to urinate in the corners and at various key locations within the space, we bring in pictures, juvenile artwork, Dilbert calendars, vases, etc. I particularly enjoy the pictures. Some are fairly benign. Simple poses at a favorite locale. All smiles, and no worries. While others are goofy or whimsical. There are also some people who don't take the time to scan the background of a picture to make sure the setting is appropriate. Exhibit 1- Four people sitting in a living room on a sofa. Sodas and beer on the coffee table in front of them. Everyone sporting exuberant grins and mild sunburns. However, if you looked in the corner of the picture, way up at the top, you would see the arched back of the owners dog, and his furry pucker dropping a "cigar" on the hallway carpet. Exhibit 2- A vacation photo. Based on the decor in the room, somewhere Mexican...perhaps Dominican. This is a boudoir photo. A picture of the boyfriend (thankfully fully clothed) laying on the King sized bed in the hotel room. All smiles, and no worries. Again, if you look in the background, on the nightstand, you can clearly see the telltale accordion-fold of a sizeable bandolier of condoms. And right next to the condoms? A vibrator.
But I digress.
The reason I thought to post today was the picture here. Comparatively this is a far more dressed down work space than usual. Nary a photo in sight. Although, the freaky, whimsical pencil is rather interesting.
Hand Cream. Swift and broad would be the judgement assessed on me for having hand cream figure so prominently at my desk. I mean, seriously, the mouse is less available than the hand cream. But girls don't have this issue. Had it been a whole cucumber, perhaps. But thankfully it wasn't.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Car Shopping
Increasingly over the past few weeks it has become evident that it is time to retire my trusty companion, the Ford Taurus SE that I have been driving for the past 10 years or so. It was around December that I started to notice a shimmy in the steering that told me that the mechanic at Fountain Tire was not just pulling my leg when he said that I needed to replace my ball joints and tie rods. Being that I had just spent some 800 dollars fixing a far more critical issue, I couldn't bring myself to spend another thousand dollars replacing the front end of the car as well as all four tires.
So the shimmy has graduated to more of a shake. Like most other unfortunate palsy victims, some days are worse than others. On a particularly bad day, Tannis decided to take the car for a quick errand. Upon her return, she didn't even have both feet in the house before she announced, no DEMANDED, that we buy me a new car. And so it begins, the confusing, tiring and expensive (albeit exciting) search for a new vehicle.
I have enjoyed my relationship with Ford so far. We have had a Mercury Tracer, A 1994 Ford Probe, A 1996 Mustang GT, and a 1998 Ford Taurus. All good cars. Aside from a mishancled incident with the Probe, for which we were generously compensated with a fantastic deal on the lease of the Mustang. So I decided to first look over the Ford product line to see if they had any offerings that I would like. The first thing that jumped out at me was the Ford Escape.
I have been looking to get a slightly larger vehicle with more versatile cargo space. The security of the trunk on the Taurus is fine, but it has just become an overstocked catch-all.
Friday, March 20, 2009
MythTV is Awesome
My TV recorder has nothing to do with Bill Gates. I am using a package called Mythbuntu. It combines MythTV, a TiVo-like software package, with Ubuntu, a non-geek friendly version of Linux.Before that, I started with a Toshiba DVD PVR a few years back. It has an 80 gig hard drive and is pretty user friendly. Problem was, the DVD drive died so I was unable to archive anything I wanted to save. And with an 80 gig drive, that filled up pretty fast. Now they come with much larger drives, but the market is drying up because all of the service providers (Shaw, MTS, etc) offer their own devices. But you will never get content off of those things to a DVD due to the Digital Rights Management bull****.
So that’s why I settled on this MythTV solution. Being based in Linux, it’s free. But for the same reason, it is not for the technically faint-of-heart. Mr. Gates does offer his own solution that gets bundled with most (or all?) versions of Vista called Media Centre. I have seen a demo of it and it looks kind of cool. It seems to have many of the features of the MythTV solution.
Here is a YouTube video that explains it pretty well: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-yNCqj_MXs
Most of the videos on YouTube have the user demonstrating it on their computer. What I did was put the computer beside my TV. My PC has S-video out so I ran a cable from the PC to the TV. Then I connected the audio out from the PC as well. Similar to what you would do with a DVD player.
To use MythTV or Microsoft’s Media Centre, you need to have a TV capture card in your PC. Either HD or Standard, whatever your signal is. That card actually comes with a universal remote control. So now my kids can operate this thing pretty well. They have their shows recording and are able to watch and delete the stuff in their “category”.
Because this thing is a PC on a network, I can access the shows from anywhere in my house on my notebook. And I can also see the system from outside the house via the web.
The system can be run on an older computer, but I added a couple of HD’s to bring my storage up to 1 Terabyte. The only thing I need to pay for is a subscription to the listings service that gives me 2 weeks of program guide information over the web. But at 20 bucks a year, it’s worth it.
****Edit****
I have had people ask me for a cost breakdown/materials list. Although this will vary from person to person, here is mine:
- 1 Computer (~$200). Or at least a VM.
- 1 Video Capture Card with tuner. (~$100.00)
- 1 Video card with S-video Out (~125.00)
That covers the basics. Other than this, you need:
- A subscription to Schedules Direct (20.00/annually). This is a service that pushes the TV Guide schedule information to your MythTV PC via the Internets
- An internet connection wherever you are putting this thing. I had to run a line from my switch to the TV. This allows the system to automatically gather schedule information. Also, you can get access to your system from other PC's in your house, or remotely. You just need to configure your gateway properly.
- Although the Hauppage Capture card comes with a functional remote control, I found it limited in the way it controlled the other devices, so I had to purchase a Logitech Universal remote (~160.00). This turned out to be the best thing by far. This thing is fully programmable and you can even set up macros to make it even easier.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
"C"....NO...."A"
I have started to age.
I know. "We all age, you idiot". I get the regular aging. What I mean is the aging where you start to become your parents. Or at least you start to develop the habits of people the age of your parents.
I have begun to enjoy crossword puzzles, sudoku, and those cryptoquip things in the paper. I have become the dad who sits at the kitchen table on a Saturday and does the crossword puzzle. I'm OK with it. And the fact that I am aging has nothing to do with this particular post.
Often when I am doing one of these puzzles, I run across the clue "Mom's Sister", or "Grandma's Daughter". The answer is, of course, "aunt". But I have found that more often than not, I have already solved the last three letters using other clues.
"Honey, can you think of a four letter word for 'Mom's Sister' that ends in 'unt'?"
I'm just sayin'.
I know. "We all age, you idiot". I get the regular aging. What I mean is the aging where you start to become your parents. Or at least you start to develop the habits of people the age of your parents.
I have begun to enjoy crossword puzzles, sudoku, and those cryptoquip things in the paper. I have become the dad who sits at the kitchen table on a Saturday and does the crossword puzzle. I'm OK with it. And the fact that I am aging has nothing to do with this particular post.
Often when I am doing one of these puzzles, I run across the clue "Mom's Sister", or "Grandma's Daughter". The answer is, of course, "aunt". But I have found that more often than not, I have already solved the last three letters using other clues.
"Honey, can you think of a four letter word for 'Mom's Sister' that ends in 'unt'?"
I'm just sayin'.
My Tribe
A number of years ago, before we had kids, Tannis and I got mildly addicted to Warcraft. Not World of Warcraft, the online epic. Just the original Warcraft. It was a simple little game you could play as a human or an orc. You would build homes, barracks, farms, etc and go about building your empire and conquering neighboring civilizations.
When I say mildly addicted, I may be selling it a little lightly. It had become the topic of conversation in every phone call during the day with each other. When I picked her up from work, we would talk strategy till we got home and could turn on the computer. It was stupid, really. There wan't much to the game. It was just so addictive. We eventually kicked the habit and stayed off the smack until Tannis started playing The Sims 2. But don't get me started on that.
Recently I was looking for puzzle type adventure games. My searches led me to http://grubbygames.com/. I downloaded a couple of trial games that were OK. Then I tried My Tribe. This dumb little game is even more simplistic than Warcraft was. Which seemingly makes it even more addictive. And if that wasn't enough, the game simulates operation while you are not playing it. So now, you can close the game, turn off the computer, go to bed, and wake up the next morning to find your Tribe members have starved to death.
There is no currency, but you need to gather wood, food and stone. These are your basic raw materials. You can also expect the odd piece of flotsam from your ship to show up while you are playing. It may contain food, or items to help you build or research new technologies. On that note, one of the structures you get to build is a science lab. Here you get to research things and conduct chemical experiments with the various elements you find on the island.
Producing offspring is as easy as picking up one of your tribe members and dropping them on a member of the opposite sex. They will then trundle off into an available hut, and emerge seconds later with an infant. You don't have to care for the children. As a matter of fact, you can't do anything with them till they become adults. They do nothing other than wander around.
I have not yet introduced Tannis to this game. I really want to, but if she gets addicted, she'll blame me. Perhaps soon.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Quote of the Day
iGoogle advises me that Matt Groening had this to say:
I'm not saying I agree with this necessarily. But it is funny. And I just watched Ice Age 2 last night. So the image if that acorn-manic weasel-thing is fresh in my mind.
Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
I'm not saying I agree with this necessarily. But it is funny. And I just watched Ice Age 2 last night. So the image if that acorn-manic weasel-thing is fresh in my mind.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Did MY Parents do This at 40?
You know those times that you are helping your kids through a tough time and you use the "I have been there, too" story to relate to them. And they nod thoughtfully trying to imagine you in the same stuation they are in, and then realizing to themselves that you are full of shit because there is NO WAY you could POSSIBLY understand what its like to have pants that don't fit right and how the little adjustable straps on the waistband are SUPER scratchy...etc...etc. I mean, sure, in my day the pants didn't have adjustable waistbands like they do now. We had belts. Or our moms would "let them out" or "take them in" to suit our everchanging bodies. Pants weren't made of smooth denim and soft cotton in the 70's. They were made of iron and polyester. You want to talk about uncomfortable, don't get me started. But they were very durable. Try adjusting a seam or sewing a gather in some of the jeans nowadays. Not as easy. Snip one wrong thread, and *poof* the trousers evaporate into a pile of threads. Maybe not that bad, but you get my drift: I know of uncomfortable pants.
Do we ever stop dismissing the possibility that our parents "have been down that road before"? I find myself wondering this more and more lately. Although it is not from my kids' perspective, it's from MY perspective.
I don't know what the 1975 equivalent of Rockband is. Pong? OK. Pong was first introduced around 1975. And we were the first family on our street to have one. And I loved playing it. Did I ever play it with my parents? Not a chance. Now I suppose it is possible that once I was snuggled in my bed at night, my parents would Pong it up for a few hours, but I find that doubtful. But I never witnessed them actually playing it themselves.
Yet, whenever I get the chance, I am jamming with the kids to "You Shook Me All Night Long" on the AC/DC trackpack. Now, I'm sure a social scientist would argue that the pervasive nature of various forms of technology over the past few decades has contributed to the acceptance of technology by the elder generations so my metaphor just doesn't hold up in the wash, unlike my Sears Toughskins corduroy pants (you like how I brought that around? -- me too).
I am now starting to get the eye-rolling from my daughter once in a while. "Daaaaaaaaaad!" Attempting, as young girls are prone to do, to sway her fathers judgement by whining and rolling her eyes and doing that "tsk-awwww" thing. My son, for the time being, still thinks I am the smartest guy alive.
Do we ever stop dismissing the possibility that our parents "have been down that road before"? I find myself wondering this more and more lately. Although it is not from my kids' perspective, it's from MY perspective.
I don't know what the 1975 equivalent of Rockband is. Pong? OK. Pong was first introduced around 1975. And we were the first family on our street to have one. And I loved playing it. Did I ever play it with my parents? Not a chance. Now I suppose it is possible that once I was snuggled in my bed at night, my parents would Pong it up for a few hours, but I find that doubtful. But I never witnessed them actually playing it themselves.
Yet, whenever I get the chance, I am jamming with the kids to "You Shook Me All Night Long" on the AC/DC trackpack. Now, I'm sure a social scientist would argue that the pervasive nature of various forms of technology over the past few decades has contributed to the acceptance of technology by the elder generations so my metaphor just doesn't hold up in the wash, unlike my Sears Toughskins corduroy pants (you like how I brought that around? -- me too).
I am now starting to get the eye-rolling from my daughter once in a while. "Daaaaaaaaaad!" Attempting, as young girls are prone to do, to sway her fathers judgement by whining and rolling her eyes and doing that "tsk-awwww" thing. My son, for the time being, still thinks I am the smartest guy alive.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Coffee Shop Rant
I am really trying to support the little guy.
There is a coffee shop near our house called the Pastry Castle. It used to be something else..Java Somethingorother. That place went under because the woman running the place had no idea how to run a business. The coffee was fine, but the treats were boring. She kept trying to change the menu items, but it never really made it. The only time I thought she had a good idea was when she started advertising live music a couple of nights a week. That is the crowd she was trying to pull in. And it might have worked if they had stuck with it for a while.
But the location is such that it is inconvenient to find. You have to actually be looking for the place. It is completely surrounded by other restaurants so attracting the lunch crowd would be a tough gig. I say go after the coffee crowd. The only Starbucks in the area is in the Safeway. And we all KNOW that those aren't REAL Starbucks. And Tim Horton's is always packed, but that just means that people don't have a real alternative.Another thing this place could have going for it is the free(ish) MTS Wireless Internet. I added the 'ish' because you have to have an MTS user ID from an existing service in order to log in.
That in itself isn't the issue. The issue with this service offering is the reason why I am typing this entry while I am offline even though I am well within the range of the access point. They have a 2.4 GHz wireless phone. Every time they answer said phone, I have my connection severed.Is this the last straw? No. I will continue to patronize this place despite the apparent frivolity of my efforts. I'm quite sure that within the next few months I will be sitting here, drinking my latte produced by the NEW owner/barrista of my neighborhood coffee shop. And hopefully at some point in the future, the stars will align and I will finally have a neat little neighborhood coffee shop to patronize.
There is a coffee shop near our house called the Pastry Castle. It used to be something else..Java Somethingorother. That place went under because the woman running the place had no idea how to run a business. The coffee was fine, but the treats were boring. She kept trying to change the menu items, but it never really made it. The only time I thought she had a good idea was when she started advertising live music a couple of nights a week. That is the crowd she was trying to pull in. And it might have worked if they had stuck with it for a while.
But the location is such that it is inconvenient to find. You have to actually be looking for the place. It is completely surrounded by other restaurants so attracting the lunch crowd would be a tough gig. I say go after the coffee crowd. The only Starbucks in the area is in the Safeway. And we all KNOW that those aren't REAL Starbucks. And Tim Horton's is always packed, but that just means that people don't have a real alternative.Another thing this place could have going for it is the free(ish) MTS Wireless Internet. I added the 'ish' because you have to have an MTS user ID from an existing service in order to log in.
That in itself isn't the issue. The issue with this service offering is the reason why I am typing this entry while I am offline even though I am well within the range of the access point. They have a 2.4 GHz wireless phone. Every time they answer said phone, I have my connection severed.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Who Does This to Their Cat?
I really don't know what to say about this. When I looked at this picture on the original website the ad content to the left of the image was promoting a "cat lovers network". That made me laugh just as hard as the original picture.
Note the evidence of a black eye in frame #4. How hard do you have to smack a cat to give it a visible black eye? I bet the artist could shed some light on that. I also enjoy the disembodied leg in a boot that appears in frames 1 and 6.
Nice to see that the instructions recommend using the more humane canister vaccuum as opposed to just running the upright unit back and forth over Fluffy McMeowington.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Not a Bad Day
You know those times when you get called in to move computers and then show up to find out that not just computers are moving, but new desks were installed as well?And the new desk is an antique made from the deck of Noah's Ark. Never designed to have a computer. The mere suggestion of a hole being drilled to accomodate a cable is met with gasps and fainting. And of course the desk is placed in the centre of the room like a power and ethernet-less island refuge.Ever have those days?
Well, today was not one of those days for me. I showed up to see a desk and computer moved into an office just waiting for me to plug them in to a plug and network port I had so efficiently installed years ago when this was still a storage room. Although the network port was on the opposite side of the office, I was able to find a 25' patch cable. How often does THAT happen?!Today is shaping up. Maybe I won't need to get as drunk as usual tonight.
Well, today was not one of those days for me. I showed up to see a desk and computer moved into an office just waiting for me to plug them in to a plug and network port I had so efficiently installed years ago when this was still a storage room. Although the network port was on the opposite side of the office, I was able to find a 25' patch cable. How often does THAT happen?!Today is shaping up. Maybe I won't need to get as drunk as usual tonight.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Restaurant Review - Lovey's BBQ
Whenever I am driving down Marion, I would always notice the new (and only) Southern BBQ place in Winnipeg, Lovey's BBQ. Always thinking to drop in and pick up some pulled pork, or some ribs, I just never did. I would always be driving home for supper after work, and there would usually already be a supper plan, so my desire for delicious BBQ meat would go unfulfilled.
Finally, one night last week, I had my wits about me enough to call ahead to Tannis to arrange that I pick up some wood smoked bovine and ovine delicacies. As well as enough slaw and beans to make sure our intestines didn't shut down completely.
I was impressed by the decor. It is not at all spectacular, but exactly what I would expect from a BBQ joint. Sheet metal siding wainscotted walls, chalk menus on the walls, pictures of other similarly named and and annointed BBQ establishments that were obviosly taken by the owner during his fact finding tour prior to opening his own joint, and the requisite effigies of the source of the raw materials...pigs.
Although it was the supper hour, I had my order taken quickly. After looking over the various choices (ribs, chicken, brisket, sides) the proprietor and I decided that the 3 meat combo would be the best bet. For 30.00, I had 6 ribs, about a half pound of pulled pork (or option brisket), a half BBQ'd chicken, a couple small squares of corn bread (option was bannock), fries, beans, and some slaw. There was another potato option, I think mashed, but I can't remember.
While I waited, I wandered around the restaurant looking at the various photographs and kitcsh that festooned the walls. My final read was the restaurant reviews by the Press and the Sun. In my opinion, Marion Warhaft is inconsistent with my tastes, and the girl that does the review in the Sun must be either poisoned or clubbed by the waiter before she does a bad review. But as I read these reviews, especially the Free Press one, I noticed how...well...shitty it was. Even though, as I said, Marion and myself are often at odds, I was hoping for something more encouraging from her review. You see, BBQ is basic, primal food. Most of the menu items are prepared well in advance of serving. So, it's not as if you have the same order freshness management concerns as, say, Oriental takeout. Most of the items in my order were put on the smoke 3-10 HOURS before I ever darkened the door of Lovey's. So it would seem to me at least that so long as you have solid proven recipies for the preparation of these dishes, you're golden.
Not so.
I'll truncate the pliagiarism of Ms. Warhaft's review to say it was non-complimentary on most every count. Not to be discouraged, when my order was ready, I excitedly grabbed my two sacks of meat and sauce and headed for the car. I felt my biggest challenge now was getting the works home without eating half of it on the way.
I somehow managed to make it in the house with the original fold still in place on my paper sacks. The family wouln't be home for an hour, so I decided now was the time to sample the wares at their freshest. The following are my findings in the order of their ingestion:
1) Corn Bread - It was definitely NOT my intention to sample the corn bread first, but I had little choice. It was packed on top of the menu item I was originally going for, but more on that later. As I lifted it up, it crumbled to pieces. I caught as much as I could, but it got pretty messy. I decided that the best place to store the remaining pieces was in my mouth. The taste was too spicy for my palate. I was hoping for a sweeter product. Instead, I got savoury. And dry. Like a dusty corn fart.
2) Chicken - Looked wonderful. The texture was good. Nice and tender with a slight crust. The meat was well seasoned, not at all salty, and the smoke flavour had made it all the way through. I did note, however, that this was not the meatiest of birds. Perhaps she was raised on the corn bread, and like me, never developed a taste for it.
3) Fries - Wanting to cleanse my palate of my first meat sample of the night, I decided to dig in to one of the side dishes. What do you want me to say here? They're fries. Real ones, made from potatoes. Good.
4) Pulled Pork - It is pretty damn hard to screw up pulled pork. And they didn't. It was good. I prefer mine a little less pulled than what I got. It would be nice if a few half-inch sized pieces were in there. They would stay a bit moister. But the flavour was very nice.
5) Beans - More palate cleansing. Although after trying a forkfull of these, I was regretting not having chosen to lick the dog. These beans were barely a step below crunchy. And the flavour was far too intense. This was evidently a new batch. Perhaps a few more hours in the crock and some molasses. Yes. That is all I will say about that.
6) Slaw - In an effort to get past my relationship with the beans, I jumped right in bed with her best friend. This is one dish that could have used a bit more flavor. Salt. Corriander. Malt vinegar. Something. But pretty good.
7) Ribs - Cue the trumpets! I left the ribs till last in the hopes that...well...they were yummy. Flavour - good. Texture - poor. Value - meh. I prefer my ribs to be able to be removed from the bone. And if you need to err on one side or the other, a slightly overcooked rack is better than a tough one. And considering the tenacity with which these sinewy morsels were clinging to the bone, I was left wondering if this animal, too was raised on the aforementioned cornbread.
So that covers it. Overall, the value would have been OK if the food had been a bit better. It's not BAD food. But ... ok here's the deal: If you're going to run a BBQ restauant, you really only need to do one thing right...BBQ. Everything else is details. And my ribs are better. It's hard for me to see past that. Maybe I should look at opening my own place...naw, people are to critical. ;)
Finally, one night last week, I had my wits about me enough to call ahead to Tannis to arrange that I pick up some wood smoked bovine and ovine delicacies. As well as enough slaw and beans to make sure our intestines didn't shut down completely.
I was impressed by the decor. It is not at all spectacular, but exactly what I would expect from a BBQ joint. Sheet metal siding wainscotted walls, chalk menus on the walls, pictures of other similarly named and and annointed BBQ establishments that were obviosly taken by the owner during his fact finding tour prior to opening his own joint, and the requisite effigies of the source of the raw materials...pigs.
Although it was the supper hour, I had my order taken quickly. After looking over the various choices (ribs, chicken, brisket, sides) the proprietor and I decided that the 3 meat combo would be the best bet. For 30.00, I had 6 ribs, about a half pound of pulled pork (or option brisket), a half BBQ'd chicken, a couple small squares of corn bread (option was bannock), fries, beans, and some slaw. There was another potato option, I think mashed, but I can't remember.
While I waited, I wandered around the restaurant looking at the various photographs and kitcsh that festooned the walls. My final read was the restaurant reviews by the Press and the Sun. In my opinion, Marion Warhaft is inconsistent with my tastes, and the girl that does the review in the Sun must be either poisoned or clubbed by the waiter before she does a bad review. But as I read these reviews, especially the Free Press one, I noticed how...well...shitty it was. Even though, as I said, Marion and myself are often at odds, I was hoping for something more encouraging from her review. You see, BBQ is basic, primal food. Most of the menu items are prepared well in advance of serving. So, it's not as if you have the same order freshness management concerns as, say, Oriental takeout. Most of the items in my order were put on the smoke 3-10 HOURS before I ever darkened the door of Lovey's. So it would seem to me at least that so long as you have solid proven recipies for the preparation of these dishes, you're golden.
Not so.
I'll truncate the pliagiarism of Ms. Warhaft's review to say it was non-complimentary on most every count. Not to be discouraged, when my order was ready, I excitedly grabbed my two sacks of meat and sauce and headed for the car. I felt my biggest challenge now was getting the works home without eating half of it on the way.
I somehow managed to make it in the house with the original fold still in place on my paper sacks. The family wouln't be home for an hour, so I decided now was the time to sample the wares at their freshest. The following are my findings in the order of their ingestion:
1) Corn Bread - It was definitely NOT my intention to sample the corn bread first, but I had little choice. It was packed on top of the menu item I was originally going for, but more on that later. As I lifted it up, it crumbled to pieces. I caught as much as I could, but it got pretty messy. I decided that the best place to store the remaining pieces was in my mouth. The taste was too spicy for my palate. I was hoping for a sweeter product. Instead, I got savoury. And dry. Like a dusty corn fart.
2) Chicken - Looked wonderful. The texture was good. Nice and tender with a slight crust. The meat was well seasoned, not at all salty, and the smoke flavour had made it all the way through. I did note, however, that this was not the meatiest of birds. Perhaps she was raised on the corn bread, and like me, never developed a taste for it.
3) Fries - Wanting to cleanse my palate of my first meat sample of the night, I decided to dig in to one of the side dishes. What do you want me to say here? They're fries. Real ones, made from potatoes. Good.
4) Pulled Pork - It is pretty damn hard to screw up pulled pork. And they didn't. It was good. I prefer mine a little less pulled than what I got. It would be nice if a few half-inch sized pieces were in there. They would stay a bit moister. But the flavour was very nice.
5) Beans - More palate cleansing. Although after trying a forkfull of these, I was regretting not having chosen to lick the dog. These beans were barely a step below crunchy. And the flavour was far too intense. This was evidently a new batch. Perhaps a few more hours in the crock and some molasses. Yes. That is all I will say about that.
6) Slaw - In an effort to get past my relationship with the beans, I jumped right in bed with her best friend. This is one dish that could have used a bit more flavor. Salt. Corriander. Malt vinegar. Something. But pretty good.
7) Ribs - Cue the trumpets! I left the ribs till last in the hopes that...well...they were yummy. Flavour - good. Texture - poor. Value - meh. I prefer my ribs to be able to be removed from the bone. And if you need to err on one side or the other, a slightly overcooked rack is better than a tough one. And considering the tenacity with which these sinewy morsels were clinging to the bone, I was left wondering if this animal, too was raised on the aforementioned cornbread.
So that covers it. Overall, the value would have been OK if the food had been a bit better. It's not BAD food. But ... ok here's the deal: If you're going to run a BBQ restauant, you really only need to do one thing right...BBQ. Everything else is details. And my ribs are better. It's hard for me to see past that. Maybe I should look at opening my own place...naw, people are to critical. ;)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentine's Party - Follow up
Someone took a grapefruit
Wore it like a hat
I saw someone under my kitchen table
Talking to my old tom cat
They were talking about hockey
The cat was talking back
Long about then every-thing went black
Wasn't that a party
That is what I was expecting. And I'm pretty sure I'm thankful that none of that took place. The only activity under the kitchen table was retrieving dropped candies from the ice-cream sundae making.
We shipped Mitch off to Doug and Lor's place. That was a very good idea. He would have gone nuts. After an hour or so, I was kinda wishing I had gone with him. Not that the party wasn't fun, but it was a GIRL party. I felt rather out of place.
Supper was fun. We made pizza dough and had a ham pizza and a cheese pizza. Tannis and I made a more deluxe artichoke, ham, feta, mushroom pizza. That was tasty.
I can't say much more about the party goings-on. I did the 23 skidoo up to my bedroom after supper to watch a movie - Mirrors. Kiefer Sutherland rocks. I have really got to catch up on my "24" episodes.
Brooke's "friend who was almost not invited" showed up. Along with a bunch of medications one of which is to "help with the night terrors". Um...what? 8 girls sleeping on the floor of the family room in sleeping bags one of which is prone to something called "night terrors"?
Turns out she is a very sweet girl. I'm sure she has her issues. Hence the meds. But from where I sat, everything looked peachy. She was certainly more well adjusted than the twins. Holy mackerel! These girls, or at least one of them, are Brooke's best friends at school. And they are complete maniacs. They seem to have developed a desire to stand and scream right in your face. They also have this maniacal laugh that chills me even now.
Quite to my surprise everyone was asleep by about midnight, despite the accellerated sugar intake. And there appeared to be no issues through the night. At least none that I am aware of. If someone crapped in the corner beacause they couldn't find the bathroom in the middle of the night, the dog must have found it.
The next morning was pancakes and bacon. It was a big hit with everyone. Shortly thereafter appreciative parents started picking up their kids and before long, life was back to normal.
This could be an annual thing for the next two or three years. I think it would be fun for the kids and rewarding for Brooke socially.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Brooke's Valentine's Day Party
My daughter is having a valentines day High School Musical sleepover party this Saturday. She is inviting a bunch (read: all) of her female classmates over on Saturday for pizza and...well, as little girls do...screaming.
Until last night, not every one of Brooke's female classmates was on the invite list. I found out that one of the girls in the class was not invited. Hmmmm.....Now I'm not a proponent of the "blanket invitation" method of inviting your entire class to each one of your birthday parties. I think that's ridiculous. But to have a girl party, and to invite ALL but ONE girl in the class....well, that's just gonna give someone a complex.
So I decided I needed to get to the bottom of this. So I sat down with Brooke to help her do her Valentine's cards and ask some leading questions.
"Why did you decide to not invite her to your party?"
"Because she's mean to me"
"What, does she say mean things to you?"
"Yeah. LOTS."
"Are you mean to her? Do you say things back?"
"No. I tell her to stop."
"Is she mean to the other kids in the class."
"Sort of, but mostly to me."
"Do the other kids join in, you know, back her up?"
"No. I like them, and they like me. It's just her."
Turns out that this little kid is quite a bitch to my darling girl. After further probing, I have found out that she has also kicked Brooke in the stomach on a couple of occasions. This simply will not do. After making sure that she understanded that she needs to involve a teacher when this happens, I talked to Brooke about how, although fighting is wrong, defending herself is completely necessary. At that point I remembered that Brooke is taking Tae Kwon Do. So I elaborated on what I meant by "defending yourself". I don't need to come home one day to find out Brooke has ripped out some kid's jugular. Move out of the way, use your low blocks, whatever. She'll probably take one shot, and then after she sees that you can handle yourself, she'll back down. If she doesn't, well, she was asking for whatever she gets.
After much consternation, she decided to invite her to the party. Brooke decided it would be the right thing to do. I told her I was proud of her. I also told her that if this girl gets out of hand at the party, she would be escorted home. That seemed to appease her.
Tannis promptly called the mom, and left an awkward message in Yoda-speak. When the mom called back, she confided in Tannis that she was surprised that her daughter didn't get invited to more parties. Go figure. Tannis told the mom what Brooke had said. So I guess we will see if things get better. Sure hope so. In any event, the kid is coming to the party, so I guess we'll see.
Until last night, not every one of Brooke's female classmates was on the invite list. I found out that one of the girls in the class was not invited. Hmmmm.....Now I'm not a proponent of the "blanket invitation" method of inviting your entire class to each one of your birthday parties. I think that's ridiculous. But to have a girl party, and to invite ALL but ONE girl in the class....well, that's just gonna give someone a complex.
So I decided I needed to get to the bottom of this. So I sat down with Brooke to help her do her Valentine's cards and ask some leading questions.
"Why did you decide to not invite her to your party?"
"Because she's mean to me"
"What, does she say mean things to you?"
"Yeah. LOTS."
"Are you mean to her? Do you say things back?"
"No. I tell her to stop."
"Is she mean to the other kids in the class."
"Sort of, but mostly to me."
"Do the other kids join in, you know, back her up?"
"No. I like them, and they like me. It's just her."
Turns out that this little kid is quite a bitch to my darling girl. After further probing, I have found out that she has also kicked Brooke in the stomach on a couple of occasions. This simply will not do. After making sure that she understanded that she needs to involve a teacher when this happens, I talked to Brooke about how, although fighting is wrong, defending herself is completely necessary. At that point I remembered that Brooke is taking Tae Kwon Do. So I elaborated on what I meant by "defending yourself". I don't need to come home one day to find out Brooke has ripped out some kid's jugular. Move out of the way, use your low blocks, whatever. She'll probably take one shot, and then after she sees that you can handle yourself, she'll back down. If she doesn't, well, she was asking for whatever she gets.
After much consternation, she decided to invite her to the party. Brooke decided it would be the right thing to do. I told her I was proud of her. I also told her that if this girl gets out of hand at the party, she would be escorted home. That seemed to appease her.
Tannis promptly called the mom, and left an awkward message in Yoda-speak. When the mom called back, she confided in Tannis that she was surprised that her daughter didn't get invited to more parties. Go figure. Tannis told the mom what Brooke had said. So I guess we will see if things get better. Sure hope so. In any event, the kid is coming to the party, so I guess we'll see.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Recipe - Molten Chocolate Cake
I have stolen this somewhat from Michael Smith. But, I'm pretty sure he doesn't read my blog, along with the rest of the world. So I should be safe posting it here.
4 oz Chocolate (Whatever your taste. I like 70% myself)
1/2 stick of butter
2 tsp Vanilla extract
1 tbsp Maple Syrup
2 tsp sugar (white or brown)
1/4 cup of flour
2 eggs
Oven to 350.
Melt chocolate and butter in double boiler or microwave. Be careful if you use the microwave. Don't overheat it. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs with the Vanilla, maple syrup, and sugar.
fold in the chocolate and flour. Don't worry about using all of the flour. The mixture should remain pudding-like.
If you have ramekins, great. Otherwise, you can use coffee mugs. To prep these, coat them with some melted butter. I use a pastry brush. Then sprinkle in some white sugar and shake it around to coat the butter. Divide mixture into your prepped vessels. You can get 2 tall cakes or three squat ones.
Place ramekins (or mugs) on a baking sheet and place on a middle rack. After 15 mins, they should be done. A toothpick inserted to the CENTRE of the cake will come out gooey. but what you want to do is pit a tooth pic into the top 3rd of the cake. It should be clean.
Turn out cakes onto serving plates. Add some ice cream and renew your gym membership.
4 oz Chocolate (Whatever your taste. I like 70% myself)
1/2 stick of butter
2 tsp Vanilla extract
1 tbsp Maple Syrup
2 tsp sugar (white or brown)
1/4 cup of flour
2 eggs
Oven to 350.
Melt chocolate and butter in double boiler or microwave. Be careful if you use the microwave. Don't overheat it. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs with the Vanilla, maple syrup, and sugar.
fold in the chocolate and flour. Don't worry about using all of the flour. The mixture should remain pudding-like.
If you have ramekins, great. Otherwise, you can use coffee mugs. To prep these, coat them with some melted butter. I use a pastry brush. Then sprinkle in some white sugar and shake it around to coat the butter. Divide mixture into your prepped vessels. You can get 2 tall cakes or three squat ones.
Place ramekins (or mugs) on a baking sheet and place on a middle rack. After 15 mins, they should be done. A toothpick inserted to the CENTRE of the cake will come out gooey. but what you want to do is pit a tooth pic into the top 3rd of the cake. It should be clean.
Turn out cakes onto serving plates. Add some ice cream and renew your gym membership.
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