Category Archives: Survival

Placitas – Impossible to Stay but Hard to Leave

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

That adobe was built sometime in the 1930s as a turkey barn, then later converted to a dairy barn until the 1950s.  The walls were 18 inches thick, the floor a couple of inches of poured concrete, flat roof that held several thousand gallons of water when snow accumulated on the roof and the canales intended to drain the melt became solid ice.

No heat, rotten iron pipes for plumbing, and a back wall ready to collapse next snowfall.  The vigas holding up the roof, cracked timbers sagging with the weight of 75 winters.  Roof leaking into the adobe walls, eroding them beneath the vigas enough to cause me to arrange the couch I slept on in such a way there’d be something between me and it if the whole thing collapsed.

The rent was so high I couldn’t afford to pay it, eat, feed the cats and pay the utilities, even with the intermittent jobs I could pick up.  So they’d cut off the utilities every few months until I could raise the money to have them turned back on.

Maybe the best place I’ve ever lived.  Certainly the hardest.

That last winter living there I was shovelling snow off the roof, slipped and fell into the snow on the ground below and lay there unconscious some undetermined time before I awakened and struggled indoors.  Stove up something awful the rest of the winter.

But the cats loved the place and so did I, even as I watched the walls dissolve and the crack between the back room wall and ceiling widen.  The near-certainty the house wouldn’t last another winter gradually had me wondering whether I could find a bridge to live under without giving up the felines.

Gale had been suggesting for several years that I move here and live in this cabin on his place.  Another winter in Placitas, the cat necessities, and the vice grips of no-obvious-alternatives gradually persuaded me.

Gale and his brother drove up from Texas with a trailer, packed me up and hauled me, the cats, and all my worldly goods down here in one fell swoop.  A person can count himself lucky if he can have one friend in a lifetime like Gale’s been to me.

For several years here it’s been easy to not think about what comes next, to just savor being here and the absolute luxury of not being in the joy of Placitas, the adobe, the proximity of some bridge to live underneath.  We seemed a lot younger, that short time ago, Gale and me.  The cats, too, for that matter.

But aging comes more quickly these days and it’s creeped into the picture until it fills it.  The Coincidence Coordinators are nagging at me with increasing urgency and insistence to look for the next bridge not to live under. 

So far I believe I’ve been the luckiest man ever to walk the face of this planet, possibly among the happiest.  I’ve discovered I’m nowhere near as tough as I once thought myself to be and Placitas taught me I’m also not the pioneer my ancestors were.  I wouldn’t change a minute of those years after I gave myself a Y2K, but I sincerely won’t regret not doing it again if I don’t have to.

But maybe now I’ve toughened up enough to make the next step as much a blessing as this one’s been.

Old Jules

Today on Ask Old Jules:  Marriage Before Sex?

Old Jules, why is it important to get married for having sex?

 

Why a Hermit? Escaping Loneliness in a Young World

I probably should post this on Ask Old Jules, but nobody much reads that blog.  Not that it matters whether anyone reads it, I suppose.  But if I’m going to compose words something in me likes it better thinking it will be read by someone else, than to just fade into oblivion.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this solitude addiction of mine lately, attempting to be candid with myself about it and what it means.  The tripwire involved several emails I’ve received asking what makes me do it, want it, whatever.  It’s plain enough the emails were sincere and genuinely interested, at least on some level.  But it’s also patently obvious the concept is foreign enough to those asking to leave them without a foundation for thinking about it.

One of the emailers was a cautious man carefully lo0king for someone to keep an eye on a property he owns in a remote area.  He’s somewhat caught between conflicting realities, I suppose.  There’s a need for someone ‘responsible, someone he can trust.  But anyone who’d stay there and do what needs doing is going to be a person he can’t understand, can’t identify with.

His concern’s legitimate.  If he allows someone to occupy the place and they happen to be the sort to cook meth on the side, or grow illegal herb, he’s in danger of having the property confiscated.  But he also runs that risk even if the grower or cook enter the unattended property without his knowing it.  Absentee ownership isn’t as seductive a proposition as it once was.

But the email exchange did get me asking myself to form some candid understanding of exactly what motivates me and why I’m a lot happier not being around people much.  And the eventual answer startled me a bit, seemed internally inconsistent.

I generally like people okay as individuals, I concluded, but dislike them in the composite.  I don’t have much in common with groups, but I can almost always find something in common with individuals.  So when I meet strangers in town I find I’m able to have friendly, enjoyable exchanges, though brief.

But I’m always acutely aware that each of those strangers is a part of some larger we, identifying with it, considering himself and it inseparable at some fundamental level.  And almost every ‘we’ I’ve ever examined closely has led me to want nothing to do with it. 

However, another piece of being around ‘we’ identifications scattered around all over urban landscapes is the forced realization of isolation and exclusion of a different sort than that of a hermit, deliberately self-imposing solitude.

The simple fact is, I get lonely and hell when I’m around people.  And I’m not lonely at all when I’m not. 

At least I think I might if I tried it.  I actually don’t recall ever feeling lonely under those circumstances, though I do recall not caring for it.

Old Jules

 

Dear Hearts and Gentle People – [Bullet Holes in the Ceiling]

Hi readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

It must have been an Eve, Christmas or New Year, 1996 or 1997.  Keith and I, or Mel and I were partnered that trip and the cold, or the mud drove us into town.  We got a room in the motel you see just beyond the cafe with the chuckwagon on the roof.  Quemado was dead, every business in town shut down except the bar underneath the yellow sign on the right side of the picture.

Sometime after dark we wandered across the highway to the bar.  A couple of pickups were parked in front and we hoped there’d be a hamburger and beer to be had.  At least we figured it would be warmer than the motel room.

We stepped up to the bar and examined the half-dozen other customers through the smoke as we pulled off our coats.  Behind the bar a guy probably named Bad Teeth was grinning, looking us over.  Same as everyone else in there, all of whom appeared to be ten-generations of first cousins inter-married to Bad Teeth’s ancestors. 

“Any chance of getting something to eat?”  The faint odor of hamburgers lingered in the background.

Bad Teeth just grinned and looked past me at the badasses huddled over one of the tables.  “You won’t be here that long.”

“Long enough for a beer, anyway.”  My partner was showing signs of irritation.

“Only certain kinds of people come in here.”  My eyes followed where Bad Teeth was pointing at the cluster of bullet holes in the ceiling.  “Nobody else stays long.”

But my partner, Mister Wiseass, wasn’t looking at the ceiling.  He was letting his gaze size up all the drinkers, them doing the same to us.   “Gay bar in Quemado?”  He poked me in the ribs with his elbow, laughing.  “He’s right.  If anyplace else was open we ought to go there.”

The door was only a few steps away.  I grabbed his arm and headed for it.  “Let’s go there anyway.  The smoke’s stuffing up my sinuses.”  I suppose we’d have just been too much trouble.  Nobody followed us out to the street. 

Or maybe it really was a gay bar.  I’m happy enough not knowing. 

Bad judgement was driving to Quemado instead of another  80 miles to Springerville, AZ, if we wanted something as complicated as a hamburger.  Just saying.

When Ned Sublette used to sing the song linked below at a honkytonk out on the West Mesa in Albuquerque he always got out alive.  Maybe all those cowboys were just glad someone finally said it.

Old Jules

Ned Sublette:  Cowboys are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other:

 

Dinah Shore 1949 – Dear Hearts and Gentle People

 

Seven Dollar Air vs Renewable Air

Hi readers.  Thanks for the visit.  I’ve got the side-panel back onto the comp and the dust is settling, so I suppose I’ve cheated computer-death once more.

I’ve neglected the redneck repairs side of blog entries for a while, so I’m offering this up for the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses without air conditioning or filtered air in their homes.

Texas is determined to find its way into my computer.  I read blogs and websites offering reminders to “spring clean that comp!”  and I just shake my head in wonder.  Every computer I’ve owned during the past 20 years I’ve been living without air conditioning would have needed a jackhammer and backhoe to get the dirt out if I cleaned it once a year.

Probably the never, never, never school of 21st Century certainties will find the following inadvisable.  I suggest you believe them if it resonates with you.

But if you’re a person who’s not confident buying cans of compressed air at $7 US per whack to blow dirt out of your computer presents an unacceptable level of risk, you might try this.

These are air pumps.  They’re designed to take air out of the sky and blow it in a fine stream under pressure at a target of opportunity.  Maybe an air mattress.  Maybe a bicycle tire.  Or perhaps, the inside of a computer.

Each of these was purchased from a thrift store at a cost of less than $3 US.

They have the disadvantage of allowing themselves to be used for years, repeatedly doing the same thing without going empty.  They have a second disadvantage of not providing the user with a stack of empty cans to dispose of.  And they have a third disadvantage of not costing $7 anytime during their lifetimes.

The people who sell compressed air for $7 per can will tell you the reason a person shouldn’t do this involves the risk of humidity, compressed in the pump, condensing on the computer parts when it decompresses, venturi-like.  You should be able to test the premise by directing the nozzle of your pump onto the surface of a mirror and observing whether any moisture condenses there.

 The other risk they’ve thought up involves static electricity being created by the friction of the pump damaging something inside the computer.

The people who believe them will verify for you that the reasons the the expensive canned-air bidness folks have dreamed up to justify the need for their product are valid. 

If you prefer to believe them you’d be well advised to just buy air at the going price.  And if you have some extra money lying around, invest in air futures.  It’s already a lot higher than gasoline at the pump, and the air-manufacturing brothers-in-spirit of the folks selling you gas are learning from them.

I suppose I’m just old fashioned.  I drink water out of a well, mostly, instead of buying bottled water.

Old Jules

 

A few previous Redneck Repairs posts here:

White Trash Repairs and Fixes – Owls and Rock ‘n Roll

Artful Communications – White Trash Repairs 3

Fire Ants, Dishwashing and Drought

Building A Salvage Chicken-Hilton – One Man Band

Cat houses and such

Cathouse urgencies

House Coon and Cat Houses Update

Afterthoughts on the MSG post, or Hang’em From the Lamp Posts

Hi readers.  Thanks for stopping in.

The comment responses to the post about MSG [Culinary Risk Taking – MSG – Root Hog or Die ] surprised me, mainly by the fact a relatively small pool of readers included so many who’ve with MSG reactions.  Curiosity led me to do a few web searches for statistics on MSG related ailments.

Surprising results.

http://www.msgtruth.org/avoid.htm is so disheartening as to make it a lousy place to begin unless you want to ruin your next meal, while naming just about everything you might eat in the future as targeted for more MSG by the food industry.

Blowing The Whistle On MSG Is Our Responsibility, Get The Word Out  http://tinyurl.com/29j8mk    also provides a lot of potentially helpful information without raising the spirits about it all:

With special thanks to: Wayne Erickson MSG Information Center

Extracted from: What is MSG?

See also: Food-borne Neurotoxins and Tinnitus Part 2: Monosodium Glutamate
————————-

I wondered if there could be an actual chemical causing the massive obesity epidemic, so did a friend of mine, John Erb. He was a research assistant at the University of Waterloo in Ontario, Canada, and spent years working for the government. He made an amazing discovery while going through scientific journals for a book he was writing called “The Slow Poisoning of America”. In hundreds of studies around the world, scientists were creating obese mice and rats to use in diet or diabetes test studies. No strain of rat or mice is naturally obese, so the scientists have to create them. They make these morbidly obese creatures by injecting them with MSG when they are first born. The MSG triples the amount of insulin the pancreas creates; causing rats (and humans?) to become obese. They even have a title for the fat rodents they create: “MSG-Treated Rats”.

I was shocked too. I went to my kitchen, checking the cupboards and the fridge. MSG was in everything! The Campbell’s soups, the Hostess Doritos, the Lays flavoured potato chips, Betty Crocker Hamburger Helper, Heinz canned gravy, Swanson frozen prepared meals, Kraft salad dressings, especially the ‘healthy low fat’ ones. The items that didn’t have MSG marked on the product label had something called ”Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein”, which is just another name for Monosodium Glutamate. It was shocking to see just how many of the foods we feed our children everyday are filled with this stuff. They hide MSG under many different names in order to fool those who carefully read the ingredient list, so they don’t catch on. (Other names for MSG: ‘Accent’ – ‘Aginomoto’ – ‘Natural Meet Tenderiser’ etc.) But it didn’t stop there.

When our family went out to eat, we started asking at the restaurants what menu items had MSG. Employees, even the managers, swore they didn’t use MSG. But when we asked for the ingredient list which they provided, sure enough MSG and Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein were everywhere. Burger King, Mcdonalds, Wendy’s, Taco Bell, every restaurant, even the sit down ones like TGIF, Chilis’, Applebees and Denny’s use MSG in abundance. Kentucky Fried Chicken seemed to be the WORST offender: MSG was in every chicken dish, salad dressing and gravy. No wonder I loved to eat that coating on the skin, their secret spice was MSG!

So why is MSG in so many of the foods we eat?.. Is it a preservative or a vitamin? Not according to my friend John. In the book he wrote, an expose of the food additive industry called “The Slow Poisoning of America” he said that MSG is added to food for the addictive effect it has on the humanbody.

Even the propaganda website sponsored by the food manufacturers lobby group supporting MSG explains that the reason they add it to food is to make people eat more. A study of the elderly showed that people eat more of the foods to which it is added. The Glutamate Association lobby group says eating more benefits the elderly, but what does it do to the rest of us? ‘Betcha can’t eat just one’, takes on a whole new meaning where MSG is concerned! And we wonder why the nation is overweight? The MSG manufacturers themselves admit that it addicts people to their products. It makes people choose their product over others, and makes people eat more of it than they would if MSG wasn’t added.

Not only is MSG scientifically proven to cause obesity, it is an addictive substance! Since its introduction into the American food supply fifty years ago, MSG has been added in larger and larger doses to the pre-packaged meals, soups, snacks and fast foods we are tempted to eat everyday.The FDA has set no limits on how much of it can be added to food. They claim it’s safe to eat in any amount. How can they claim it safe when there are hundreds of scientific studies with titles like these?:

‘The monosodium glutamate (MSG) obese rat as a model for the study of exercise in obesity’. Gobatto CA, Mello MA, Souza CT, Ribeiro A.Res Commun Mol Pathol Pharmacol. 2002.

‘Adrenalectomy abolishes the food-induced hypothalamic serotonin release in both normal and monosodium glutamate-obese rats’. Guimaraes RB, Telles MM, Coelho VB, Mori C, Nascimento CM, Ribeiro Brain Res Bull. 2002 Aug.

‘Obesity induced by neonatal monosodium glutamate treatment in spontaneously hypertensive rats: an animal model of multiple risk factors’. Iwase M, Yamamoto M, Iino K, Ichikawa K, Shinohara N, Yoshinari Fujishima Hypertens Res. 1998 Mar.

‘Hypothalamic lesion induced by injection of monosodium glutamate in suckling period and subsequent development of obesity’. Tanaka K, Shimada M, Nakao K, Kusunoki Exp Neurol. 1978 Oct.

Yes, that last study was not a typo, it WAS written in 1978. Both the “medical research community” and “food manufacturers” have known about MSG’s side effects for decades! Many more studies mentioned in John Erb’s book link MSG to Diabetes, Migraines and headaches, Autism, ADHD and even Alzheimer’s. But what can we do to stop the food manufactures from dumping fattening and addictive MSG into our food supply and causing the obesity epidemic we now see?

However, http://www.msgtruth.org/remedies.htm does offer something I think I’ll try.

Plan B – REPORTED “REMEDIES”

Taurine

Some MSG sensitive individuals report relief from some MSG symptoms by taking taurine.  The rationale behind this approach is that glutamate competes with the amino acid cysteine for uptake in the body.  An excess of glutamate will interfere with the body’s ability to convert cysteine into taurine, the other free form amino acid which acts as the body’s heartbeat regulator.    Taurine is the body’s water soluble anti-oxidant, and inhibitory neurotransmitter.  The body also uses taurine to make bile, which aids in the digestion of fats. 

The idea of taking taurine for accidental MSG ingestion is that since MSG may inhibit taurine formation, those with irregular heartbeat, digestive problems, epilepsy, vision disturbance, and panic attacks from MSG, may benefit from ingesting taurine instead of waiting for the body to make it. 

Unfortunately, most food scientists are not taught about taurine because adults are assumed to be able to make it and shouldn’t need to eat it.  It isn’t even listed in most tables of the amino acids.  However, taurine is so important in the body, that since 1986  it has been added to baby formula because it is essential for proper growth and development in humans.  Also, studies of people with epilepsy have shown that taurine levels in the brain after a seizure are unusually low.  Taurine is now being considered as treatment for diabetes as well as epilepsy.

Foods high in taurine include fresh fish and meat.  It is not found in significant amounts in foods of non-meat origin.  Heat for long periods of time destroys it.    It is interesting that the Japanese use much MSG, but also eat diets high in fish, and raw fish at that.  A Japanese meal of sushi contains much taurine, as well as MSG.  Chinese food, which often is cooked at high heat and also contains mushrooms, another source of free glutamate, and often mostly vegetables, would contain less protective taurine.

We buy our taurine online from here:  http://www.beyondacenturyonline.com  It is inexpensive and free of fillers and additives.

I’ve been puzzled about this high blood pressure condition of mine almost 20 years.   I was at a clinic for some regular testing the medicos insisted on doing every six months to find out whether I was dying yet of a type of cancer they can’t do anything about, but I’m high-risk for.  But  when they took my blood pressure it was off the charts.  They had me lie down and scurried around frantically trying to find a way of lowering it, without success.

I’ve been on blood pressure medication since that day and never even considered the possibility the cause for the original incident might have been something I’d recently eaten containing a lot of MSG.  When I quit going to doctors I had to buy the blood pressure meds from Mexico, now India, because it’s been 15 years since I had a prescription. 

I’m thinking I’ll get some of this Taurine and carefully monitor my blood pressure to see if it does any good.  Prinivil for high blood pressure is cheap enough coming from India without having to pay for a doctor to write it on a slip of paper in exchange for me slipping him a $50 bill.  But I’ve never been satisfied there wasn’t some other way of getting rid of high blood pressure.

Old Jules

Culinary Risk Taking – MSG – Root Hog or Die

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

Socorro, New Mexico, isn’t long on good restaurants.  But during the several years I lived there, I had a favorite restaurant, and a favorite menu item.  The place was owned and operated by an elderly Chinese man with whom I was on friendly, bantering terms. 

This lasted until the discovery that MSG in food causes my blood pressure to skyrocket.  A few times per week I’d sit myself down, they’d bring the usual, and a couple of hours later my pulse would be visible almost anywhere a blood vessel showed.  This was accompanied by a pounding in my head, maybe audible, maybe only seemingly so.

After I figured out the connection between my favorite food item and the blood pressure problem I attempted to discuss it with the owner, though we had a language barrier.   The result was an outburst of anger and indignation.  I didn’t know yet the MSG was the cause.  Just that particular menu item.

I solved the problem by eating elsewhere, but eventually learned that Chinese restaurants, particularly, lean heavily on adding MSG to their foods, and that a surprisingly large number of people have reactions to it similar to mine. 

I also began watching the labels on food I bought to prepare at home.  What I discovered was that a person sensitive to MSG had best carry a magnifying glass in his pocket and read those labels carefully.  Almost everything a person might buy in a can is loaded with it, but especially soups and soup-bases.  If a label slips past and gets inside the vehicle it notifies the owner by the rods knocking.

But I was going to say, I love oriental food, and I was in town yesterday, so I clenched my teeth and decided it was a day for risk-taking.  There’s an Oriental buffet I’d never tried, so I pulled in.  I tried asking whether they had MSG in their food, but it was clear she didn’t understand me.  So I went root hog or die.

The food was mediocre, but I didn’t die.  I took a couple of extra blood pressure pills when the pounding in my head started, and by the time I got home my blood pressure was so low I didn’t have any business being alive.

I found myself wondering why the FDA cops who faint and revive themselves over one-in-a-billion risks to human health otherwise haven’t jumped on this like ugly on a monkey.

Old Jules

Today on Ask Old Jules: 

Historical Events Duplicated Today?

Old Jules, does any time in history correspond to what’s going on within the US today?

Powdered Horse Milk

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

After I finished my morning download ritual this morning and prepared to go outdoors to bring up Old Sol and turn out the chickens I checked Ask Old Jules Biggest Regret? to see which of my brainstorms of the past she’s picked for the day.  I take a lot of things about myself for granted and occasionally one of my answers rattles me a bit, gets me asking questions about me and what makes me tick.  This morning is one of those.

Sitting out there under the tree I found myself asking, “What in the dickens is wrong with me that I feel so content and can’t come up with anything to regret?  It ain’t as though I haven’t gone the last mile to assure myself of plenty any sane person would prefer to be otherwise.”

I can’t guess how many people live the way I do, close to the cuff, physically having to force myself to maintain a comfort range that includes whatever the Universe tossed my way.  Probably a lot do in the poorer countries, but likely not too many within the boundaries of the US.  But when I see some evidence of them, I generally find myself on the edge of feeling sorry for them.

But meanwhile, I’m about as content, almost euphoric about my own life most of the time as a person could be.  Yeah, there are nagging things need doing, need changing, forever being pushed forward in time for one reason or another because of limited options.  But they whisper from the wings and mostly I don’t pay them any mind.

“Would I like, or trust someone like me if I came across him?”  That’s what I finally found myself asking.    And the answer’s a bit confusing to me.  “No,” I’m forced to admit, “I probably wouldn’t.   How the hell could you trust someone like that? “

“So, do you want to change it?”

“I’d hate to.  I’m more-or-less fond of being happy.  But it might be better to cultivate some regrets, some yank-your-heart-out-things I wish I’d done differently.  This satisfaction thing can be taken too far.”

Cultivating regrets, yearnings, deep feelings of loss might just be what it takes to live a life of fulfillment.  It would open the door to finding things to be scared of, frightened they’d happen.  Angry because they did, or didn’t.

Old Jules

 

Shinola, etc.

I’ve been coming across the word disambiguation somewhat frequently on the web lately. It always brings a smile when I see it, gives me a momentary ambition to disambiguate something.

But the problem is that I don’t know anything much.  Even inside the 21st Century where uninformed opinion is respectable, almost universal, and carries the certainty and power of positive speaking, I just don’t know anything much.

Besides, the dialup connection, or WordPress is being a pure D Communist this morning.  It’s taking me forever to even load the site.  I’m rolling on the floor with joy everytime it tells me it can’t find the webpage.

So instead of disambiguating you readers on some uninformed opinion I have, I think I’ll give you a quick and dirty on something I know something about because I’ve discovered it around here and watched it happen.

I’ve told you about the Great Speckled Bird and how he’s in decline because of something he did in his youth to cripple him up something awful.  One side of him just doesn’t work the way it ought to, and it causes him a lot of pain and distress.  I’ve expected him almost every morning to be dead when I go out to turn them out for free ranging.

But  I’ve been making up orange-peel tincture and treating him with it for a longish while, and it always makes him feel better after I’ve done it.  Sometimes when he’s in particular pain he actually volunteers, gimps over and sits around near where I am, hinting.

I don’t have arthritis troubling me, but if I did, the Great Speckled Bird testifies it’s the way to the truth and the light, orange peel tincture.  He says it’s the difference between Chit and Shinola.

Costs almost nothing to make, too.  Just put your orange or grapefruit peels into a jar of vinegar instead of throwing them away.  In a while you’ll have a tincture.

Chit and Shinola disambiguated.

Old Jules

Today on Ask Old Jules:  State of Democracy?

Learning How to Not Be So Stupid

Morning to you readers.  I’m obliged you came by for a read.

If I’m going to get anywhere in this life I think I’m going to have to learn how to not be so stupid. 

Yesterday I made that post about the F350 wiring, which I’d been fretting and gnashing my teeth about for months.  Ben offered to try to find me a wiring diagram, and tffnguy recommended a Ford Truck Enthusiasts Forum.  I felt fairly uppidy and hopeful, but not sky-high enthusiastic because I’ve learned the hard way to suppress my melodrama.

But I went to the Forum site and immediately remembered I’d been there before, several months ago.  The reason I remembered was the popup advertisement for Phoenix University that blocked the entire screen and came back as soon as I clicked the X, every time.  The site took forever to load on a dialup, too.  So I blew it off and spent the next few months twiddling my thumbs trying to find ways to fix the immediate problem.

But yesterday, because of tffnguy’s recommendation I fought my way through the esoterica, waited while things loaded, killed popups as though I could dress them out and have them for supper.  Registered, posted a question about the wiring, along with pics, and asked for any help anyone could offer.

In a matter of hours I had a reply and a wiring diagram.  Now I’m back where I could have been several months ago if I’d had the patience and determination to wait for that site to load and posted an identical request back then.

Gale’s fond of saying that during the 40-odd years we’ve been friends every mutual acquaintance, if asked to list my traits would have had, “If there’s an easy way and a hard way, he’ll pick the hard way and stay to the end.”

Maybe I’m beginning to understand what they were talking about.  If I can get that grapefruit out of my mouth I might try to sort it out and change it.

Old Jules

 

Today on Ask Old Jules:   World Ending in 2012?

Old Jules, is it true that the world’s gonna end in 2012?

 

Incentives Not to Go Off Food – Rice and Veggie Steamer

I’ve been mildly curious watching myself for a considerable while.  Weight was peeling off me and I was forgetting to eat.  My body would notify me I hadn’t eaten anything in a day or two by a dose of the blind staggers, or just a dizzy spell to get me thinking back on when I last ate something.

Most of what I cook around here’s cheap and simple because of the fact I ran out of propane early last year and haven’t refilled the bottle, and because hauling water makes washing cookware an expense measured in hauling trips.  So I was living mostly on potato combinations, yogurt combinations, fruit combinations and various bean concoctions.  I was at the point of hating to look any one of them in the eye.

Then one day in the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Kerrvillle I saw that rice and veggie steamer still in the box for sale for a dollar.  It didn’t appear to ever have been used.  So, I bought it, thinking rice and steamed veggies would at least be different.

Sheeze, the best purchase since my High Roller back in 1972.  The tow bar I bought the other day might turn out to be a better deal, but I haven’t figured out anyway to cook with it.  But I’ve digressed.

What I’ve re-discovered is the absolute, euphoria-laden joy of food.  I’m making better meals on that thing than I could even find in a restaurant in town, but if I could, couldn’t afford them.  I’ll make up a batch of one or another Asian-like mix thinking it will last two days, then find I have to fight a war with myself to keep from eating it at a single sitting.

It does require loads of fresh onion, garlic, jalapeno, cayenne, curry and ginger.  I buy bags of trail mix of various sorts, dried mango, papaya, raisins and cranberrys at the Dollar Tree and pour on top, a little of each.  The food bills went up something awful last month.  But I don’t forget to eat.

And the simple truth is, some of these meals turn out to be classed among the best I’m able to recall having anytime in my  life.

Anyone says an old dog can’t learn new tricks is kidding himself.

Old Jules