Back To The Kennel…

Well, we drove in from St. George Island last evening after a week staying at the Bohemian Bungalow… not to be confused with the Boobie Bungalow which I take to be a strip joint that we passed somewhere in Alabama. Over this period of 8 days, I heard nary a yelp from the canine family of creatures… of course after returning home that was immediately remedied by my mind-bogglingly inconsiderate neighbors. But I digress. If I was ever re-thinking my current idea that I would simply never retire and continue working til I dropped, a week with absolutely nothing that had to be done took care of that. The phone didn’t work and I couldn’t bring myself to watch TV on vacation which severely narrowed the options… or so it seemed. I quickly filled the void with beer, cooking, swimming, reading, puzzles, beer and of course UNO. But it also became clear that however long this list of distractions that if I were to achieve the, hmmm, what’s another phrase for american dream (an absurd and meaningless phrase if ever there was one), the, the cultural fantasy (akin to winning the lottery), that the aforementioned list would grow incredibly tiresome with a couple weeks I’d guess. So that was lesson one from the family vacation… go to work and forget about this imaginary life of leisure that so many are saving for. Onto another revelation about island life. You know, we visited the Bohemian Bungalow 2 years ago and we learned that food snobs will have difficulty obtaining their sustenance at an island grocery or the Piggly Wiggly over in Apalachicola. So, we brought tons of food and water too because the island water tastes like animal dung… well, it could be that we’re just not used to it. Anyway, the whole food thing was last trip’s lesson/revelation but this time we ran out of… you know… what the french call papier hygiénique. So off to the island market Mom went to stock up on, let’s just call it PH or TP if you find that tiresome. I paid no attention whatsoever to the lack of the paper product until one afternoon whilst my prostate was making me wait for a little flow-age and of course I had no glasses on because who needs glasses when they’re peeing (even if they’re peeing while drinking a beer at the same time), I stared vacantly forward only to see this island TP and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why anyone would think anyone would want or buy basil, I don’t know, flavored? scented? what? toilet paper…

Charmin must be coming up empty with their allegiance to the Six Sigma continuous improvement process. I kept thinking why basil?, I like basil but if we’re doing scents, I’d prefer lilac and if we’re doing herbs I think I might like to try some oregano toilet paper. The whole thing made me think of Ben Franklin’s infamous and fantastically funny “Letter To The Royal Academy”. Oh hell, you know these kind of things happen when you mix beer and blindness. The bug had one hell of a time and, as it turns out, she’s already a better and faster swimmer than I’d ever been. I swear she swam 9 hours + the first day we were there. Every morning the bug and I went to the ocean for an hour or so. Here’s a pic Mom took of us…

I guess I should point out here another revelation that I keep having over and over and that’s that despite what my brain thinks, my body simply cannot do what it used to. A couple days before leaving the waves were particularly large and I decided to wade out to where they were breaking and kinda jump into them and let them carry me a bit. Of course, I managed to time one incorrectly and it literally slammed me against the ocean floor. I hit very hard a bit askew against my ass and I had a very stiff neck and my back is still sore. It was one of those events where you wish against wishing that you could just go back in time about 1 minute’s worth and not do what you did. Here’s a couple shots of the fish in action…

Here’s a couple shot of Sofia “being Mom” as she says…

And here’s another shot of Sofia “being Mom” which consists of wearing a goofy hat and sunglasses…

And of course the sunscreen, the sunscreen, the sunscreen. Not my cup of tea but the bug was slathered multiple times daily. One last pic of the bug lounging. This pic just made me think, as I often do, how fast she’s growing. She looks so much older here to me…

Back to Alabama. It’s difficult to make sweeping generalizations about entire states of the union, especially if you live in KY. And if you drive in the country in KY, I don’t really think it’s all that different but I think everyone in rural Alabama has their own personal church. It might be easier if each household just registered itself as a church because it seems that there’s that many. Of course along with the churches are the churches’ advertisements on billboards which I ignore with all other advertisements but the funny/disturbing billboards and signs are the “holy” admonishments like this one that we saw along I65 and apparently is quite well known to travelers along this route…

Sure, it’s concise and in plain speakin’ too but the thing I find so amusing is the devil himself. Apparently before making an appearance here, Old Nick stopped off and stole the grim reaper’s scythe. Far be it from me to parse satanic iconography but I don’t recall beelzebub sporting that particular farm implement. Wasn’t he a pitchfork wielder? Last but not least I thought I’d post my favorite dish that I feel as though I made up myself. It’s this yummy avocado quesadilla…

Simple saute some garlic and mushrooms in olive oil. Mash up and avocado and mix in the garlicky shrooms. Spread evenly on 1/2 of a tortilla shell. Grate some havarti on top of the avocado mixture. A little more oil in the pan with fresh ground pepper. Carefully brown both sides which will melt the havarti but not really heat up the avocado much. This one has some blanched spinach mixed in too. Meat eaters would probably like to add some bacon but of course, it seems americans will put bacon on anything. Well, back to work.


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3 Responses to “Back To The Kennel…”

  1. mgilespots Says:

    I thought the reaper’s scythe was a hockey stick and the devil was from New Jersey. But of course, I’m Canadian, and it’s Stanley Cup season, and the Devils have a snowball’s chance in the devil’s home territory to win the cup after last nights game…so…no, that’s enough, I think, for now.

  2. naomi Says:

    Doesn’t that red guy work for Underwood? I believe I’ve seen him on their can of deviled ham.

  3. ronpots2 Says:

    I totally thought that said ‘basil’ too! Ha. Sort of disgusting as I think about it. I really like basil though. Okay, and that devil, well Michael Kline could teach him a thing or two about scything.

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