People who have near death experiences all talk about a peaceful, euphoric , bright light enveloping them. From the moment we are conceived, we are moving towards that light. This is my heels diggin' in, I don't wanna' go, reluctant journey, into the light. Stephen







Friday, December 17, 2010

Obsession, A Cost/Benefit Analysis

                                                                                    


The scourge of hyper-obsessive, spotless kitchen fetishism, might well be water spots on stainless. However, in some cases, it's possible to overlook the slight blemish or two, by focusing on the bigger picture. For instance: Fresh from the tree tangerine and pomegranate brine working on succulent, organically fattened, wild, mourning doves. Tomorrow, those dove breasts will be morsels of treasure. Wrapped in thin cut bacon, basted with terryaki, and lightly grilled. That hint of mesquite smoke will be intentional.


Thursday, September 30, 2010

True Friendship/Fused Souls



This is a repost of one of my early blog posts.  My friend Tommy was on my mind tonight and I went back and read this and decided to share it with some of the new folks who have been stopping by.  Hope you like it.


July 13, 1975




When I walked in, it smothered me. An aura. A wet woolen blanket of despair. Like a house where they have been burning railroad ties in the woodstove all winter. An onerous creosote stench that the breezy, open windows of spring will never remove. I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary. Just another day. Another day of youthful exuberance and innocence in a long string of such unemcumbered days. I was 17, and it was all about me. That was about to change.



I have a friend. My best friend. One I don’t see much anymore, but still my bedrock. We can literally go years, and immediately upon re-connecting, pick up exactly where we were. That special connection never ceases to amaze me. No awkwardness, no pregnant pauses in conversation, just instantaneous revival of perfect comfort. Like how your high school letterman’s jacket would feel if you never gained weight, forever 185 well proportioned pounds. The feel of leather on your arms, the pride in that big W with the shiny stuff pinned to it. Familiar and safe. Comfort you can trust.



The same with his family. They were my family too. And my Mother was his as well. His older brothers looked out for me, and his older sisters teased me. And his little sister, the most beautiful little 4 year old you ever laid eyes on, was the apple of all our eyes. Kimmy was a late in life surprise. A blessing, a glue that united all of us. When everyone is doting on the same little angel, there’s not much time to worry about stupid little trivial conflicts between other family members. Her beautiful glow, warmed the entire family. I loved her.



I have a little sister, but then I had two. Blood was not a familial qualifier. I have this memory of Kimmy on my shoulders, me playing big brother, the almost out of control steed. I can hear her squeals and giggles still. And then I am back walking into that smothering kitchen. I knew something was wrong instantly. Being my second home, you knock with one hand while turning the door knob with the other , I went right in. All the women were around the kitchen table. Quiet, something not right. The coffeepot was there, hot, perking, the only normal thing in the room. This was a kitchen of light and joy, smelling of homecooking and safety. Until then. Somebody, I don’t remember who, mumbled that Tommy was in the basement. I went down. I knew the way. I practically lived there most of the time. Tommy was face down on his bed, motionless, unresponsive when I said, “Hey, man.” It took at least an hour to get the story out.



At first he muttered, “Kimmy.” Then he cried while I began to feel nauseous. My lingering premonitions from the kitchen were played out in a word or two every 5 minutes or so. Even though I didn’t know what the hell was up, I knew that it was bad. I sat, and waited, and listened. I’m not lying about it taking an hour. “Kimmy,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,was playing,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,and Dad,,,,,,,he backed up,,,,,,,,,and,,,,,,,,,,she was there,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,on her big wheel,,,,,,,,,,and she’s dead. There is no way to prepare for those words, “…she’s dead.” I have never in my 52 years been kicked that hard. I’m crying on my keyboard at this moment. Devastation is an understatement.



I had arrived only an hour after the ambulance had taken her. It was to be my future Mother-in-Law’s last time on the volunteer ambulance. It was too much. Kimmy wasn’t just loved by her family. Her death tore a huge gaping wound in the whole community. Small North Eastern Nevada town. Kimmy’s Dad, utterly destroyed. He was a prominent, well-respected businessman and community leader. I know for a fact he seriously contemplated suicide. Who wouldn’t. The fact that he bore that pain without surrendering to his demons, speaks volumes about his character. He drank more, but I don’t begrudge him that. Self medicating to survive. It was an accident. But an accident that forever changed his family. And he nutted up and lived on to provide for his family. He didn’t heap a second helping of tragedy on those he loved. Kimmy’s death also cemented my brotherhood with Tommy, for life.



I didn’t leave him for weeks. I had just graduated from high school and was leaving for college in a few months. Tommy was a year behind me and I worried about not being there. I felt like I had to buck him up, not let him drop back down into the abyss of hell we were trying to climb out of. It was hard to act normal and just go on living. We tried. At times it worked, at times we failed. Others, less emotionally invested, moved on more easily. I remember long somber silences, excruciating pain, communicated with merely eye contact. A simple meeting of the eyes spoke louder than words. Words that fell short of expressing how bad we missed her. How bad we hurt. How pissed we were. There was anger, I can’t lie. “How in the FUCK could God let this happen. How in the Fuck could…………….”, on and on. I was much older, with many years of waters from the fountain of wisdom under the bridge when I actually understood that anger. Anger releases emotion. We were all desperate for the emotional holocaust to subside. Anger was just a pressure relief valve. For some, that surplus emotional energy was aimed at Tommy’s Dad. I’m not going to pass judgement on any who lived it, and survived it, because even the misplaced anger came from a place of love for Kimmy. But I can say that Tommy and I never quit loving his Dad.



I did go away to college, and like Tommy, eventually married a good gal who would put up with me and we raised a family. I have a wife and 2 boys, and Tommy has a wife and 2 boys. But no matter how we explain it, or recount the sheer misery of it, none of those who we love most will ever be able to understand how we survived that horrible time together. The sheer emotional intensity of those times fused our souls. I don’t know how else to better describe it. Fused souls don’t come undone. And my idea of a soul, is that each human soul is individual, unique, and eternal. Which gives me hope, that someday, someway, somehow, once again Kimmy will ride the shoulders of her almost out of control steed and squeal and giggle in our ears.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Family Ties


Catfishing at night, with your Nephew, is very cool.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Kill The Blog / Fail

Obviously I have not been motivated to devote time and energy to this blog.  Half a dozen times I had a finger poised above the delete button.  But, yesterday, I was reminded that there is a role, small though it may be that I can play on the great big wonderful internet.

  We live in troubled times and too often we end up missing opportunities to have our lives enriched, our perspectives broadened, or miss a chance to be a positive influence, because of apathy, ignorance, or anger.  A brick is just a brick, but many bricks can become a cathedral.  This blog is just one of my bricks.

A perfect example would be Brigid and Shannon.  Complete strangers become as sisters.  Shannon stumbled onto my blog and followed my blogroll to Brigid.  I'm not part of that new relationship, but by this blog being here, a connection was made.  That nexus continues to grow.  It makes me very happy.


Despite not posting on this blog, I still follow and occasionally comment on all those blogs on my sidebar.  They are touchstones for me.  No less important than coffee and a crisp newspaper.  Like clockwork, I run through my favorites list early every morning.  Including Lex.  You will notice Brigid's Home On The Range on Lex' blogroll.  Another cool thing I had a hand in. By having the courage to drop a couple little notes, two spheres of influence far beyond my own modest little blog interfaced.  It made me very happy.

Then yesterday, this happened.  Loralee has been one of my favorite bloggers for a couple years now, and when I saw her over at Lex' place, I was surprised. Pleasantly.  Then after absorbing the shock from Loralee's post, I headed for Neptunus Lex.  And saw this.  You need to go read the comments on both posts to fully understand what happened.  Again, it wasn't about me, but rather,  that by participating, I had a teensie little part in these two completely different worlds coming together. It made me very happy.

This is why I'm going to continue this blog.  I want to continue to have a small, but not insignificant part in bringing diverse voices together, so that not only those blogging talents I admire and follow, but their followers as well, can have their lives enriched by broadened perspectives, and thoughtful and civil discourse.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Piksher Taker Wannabe / Sticks and Stones



Around here, dirt is scarce.  And life is tenuous.



You still have to be tough, but at water's edge you can scratch out a life.



I love the narrow strip of lushness that defines the border of hell.



I'm not the only one.



Desolation is but a few steps away.



A convergence of life and death. Live or die.  I choose life.



Succulent life.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Quick Pic



Where I live does not suck.


Seriously, you could do alot worse.


Even when it's scorchin' hot.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Vacation



                                                                                     

I'm taking  about a 10 day trip up through Nevada, Idaho and Utah.  I'll get some pics for ya.  Yes, I will be doing a little fishing.  See you in June.


Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Bummer!



just as a favor to me, click this pic

Monday, May 17, 2010

Tie Dyed Bighorns






I've been playing with some photo manipulation and it's a neat way to share some more of a subject you have already put out there.  Just a few pics. 





















Saturday, May 15, 2010

Mini VayCay



I took a little boat ride this evening.


Just needed a little peace......
 I guess I'm lookin' for a beacon.




A signpost of reassurance.
That we're really ok.



Life is an onion.


Thursday, May 13, 2010

HOLY COW!



Jessica Watson is a 16 year old Aussie lass about to finish a solo, non-stop, circumnavigation of the earth in a 34 foot sailboat.  An amazing feat. I've been following her blog for awhile and it just blows me away. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Jessica Watson's blog




BTW, if you go to "The Voyage" page and zoom in, the little pink location markers are blog posts. A cool way to surf her blog.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Robert Plant and Allison Krause



This song haunts me. 

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Nekkid Emporers/ SB 1070



This is what I'm talking about!  As Joe Friday would have said, "Just the facts Ma'am."  Her accent makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I practically love this woman.



h/t to   http://hillbuzz.org/

Friday, May 7, 2010

Food Chain/Bluegill



Yeah, I eat bluegill. A delicate, dance of the palate across the bones of sacrifice.


A gentle poaching with just a few spices. Clean and scale, then be gentle.



With every morsel,,,,,remember....



Remember the beauty of singular moments.



And be thankful that you aren't his dinner.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Distended Belly/Pregnancy?




If you are pregnant, you will probably pee alot  and you need to keep up on your replacement fluids.


click on pics to look 'em in the eye

Whether gloating about your sperm count,,,,,,,,, or gestating, either makes you thirsty.



Do fish get thirsty?




Last Nights Ram.



I saw two big rams last night. One far away, the other close. 


Some perspective:



That was after he FINALLY turned towards me.



I'm having a focus issue with my camera. Hence the "I want a new camera" mantra.  What I'm seeing in the viewfinder and what uploads are about a half bubble out of plumb the last few days.  But still, a desert monarch up close is always cool.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

I Love My Mother/Everybody Does



My Mom's favorite color is purple. Happy almost Mother's day Mom.

Bad Shoes? Yes, But, But, But, WOW!



Having played some organ in my time, this blows me away.  Look past the shoes and the uniform, and watch those feet.  WOW!     At the 1:00 minute mark those twinkle toes really start poppin'.  And then at the 1:30 mark......."Look ma, no hands."   Cameron Carpenter.


Saturday, May 1, 2010

Deep Breath/Breathe,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Again



Sometimes we forget it's Saturday and need a swift kick in the back of the pants to remind us that a state of imbroglio is not necessarily permanent.  Sometimes we need a natural anti-depresssant.  I'm lucky enough to know who to see for that prescription.  Well,,,,,,,,,,,,,not so much a who,,,,but rather a what/where.


A subliminal yet conscious unclenching of the mandible.  A disconnect from  the oil slicks of life.



He's not worried about offshore drilling, unless it was in his cove.  So maybe sometimes we get too focused on singular issues and forget there is a great big ol' world out there, all we have to do is look up.



Look up? At what? That big rock?

clic for bigga bo peep flock

Well that group of desert bighorn sheep up there on that big rock  above the beaver cove wouldn't hurt your eyes.



Remember Steve, breathe,   in...........out..... and don't forget to look up.



Friday, April 30, 2010

Civil Rights Violation? Yeah, The Civil Rights of Cops.



The radical open borders crowds are going nuts about those poor criminal invaders from South of the border having their civil rights violated.  Bullshit!  It's the civil rights of the GOOD GUYS that I'm more interested in.

Five Hispanic men authorities described as drug smugglers shot a Pinal County Sheriff's deputy Friday afternoon when the officer came upon them and a large amount of marijuana in a remote part of south-central Arizona.

Wait, that's racist, using the term Hispanic. Just ask anyone from that benevolent La Raza organization.

Pinal County Lt. Tami Villar said Friday's incident "sends a very powerful and loud message that we have a problem."


Villar said the suspects were armed with long guns and at least one handgun. She said gunfire with helicopters came about an hour after the initial incident. An unknown amount of marijuana apparently handled by the shooters remained in the desert.

Villar said Puroll, 53, was attacked about five miles south of Interstate 8 near its junction with Arizona 84. She said the veteran deputy is assigned to patrol the area known for drug smuggling.

She said the suspects were Hispanic men who "appear to be undocumented."

No way! These were probably just good christian family folks who came North to better themselves. I mean, golly, on the nightly news, they say it's that Nasty Racist Arizona Governor causing all the trouble.  Seriously, that Pinal County Deputy was probably a profiling racist himself.

Round them up, deport them. NOW!

Militarize the border. NOW!


I wonder if Sheriff Clarence "Dufus" Dupnik has his tail tucked between his legs tonight?   Watch Pima County Sheriff "Dufus" exhibit his command of the issue at about the 1:05 mark in the vid.


Thursday, April 29, 2010

The United Nations Sucks Sweaty Goat Testicles!




I WILL NEVER HONOR THIS FLAG.  EVER.



I have NEVER been a fan of the UN.  Despite doing more good things for those less fortunate than us around the world, more than any other country in the history of mankind, the U.S. constantly gets bashed by the UN.  Did I mention I HATE the effing UN?  Here's just the latest thing that pisses me off. 

You know the Iranians, those Persians that Obama has been coddling?  Those terrorist thug Iranians. Those despicable Iranians who have sown anti-american sentiments throughout the world and U.S. soldier killing IED technology all over Iraq and now Afghanistan. The ayatollahs who want nuclear weapons to vaporize Israel.   Remember those guys?  The guys who fund the terrorists of Hezbollah, and are buddying up to Chavez in Venezuela, you remember them, right? Well they don't think much of women's rights.  Check this out.

  "In some areas of north Tehran we can see many suntanned women and young girls who look like walking mannequins," he continued. "We are not going to tolerate this situation and will first warn those found in this manner and then arrest and imprison them."


The warning follows recent comments made by a hard-line Iranian cleric, who claimed women dressed in revealing clothing were disturbing young men and causing earthquakes.

So those mullahs that Obama thinks are misunderstood, want to round up suntanned women and put them in prison.  I wonder if the National Organization of Women (NOW) will be protesting this?  Or if Mr. Obama himself, shown all over the news today crying at at a female civil right legend's funeral, will mention anything about the callous disregard for women in Iran?  I doubt it.

But wait! What does the UN think about the Iranian's  "Islamic Women and Goats are Equal" attitudes? Wait.........wait.............wait for it......................YES THAT'S RIGHT, THEY DID THIS!

NEW YORK — Without fanfare, the United Nations this week elected Iran to its Commission on the Status of Women, handing a four-year seat on the influential human rights body to a theocratic state in which stoning is enshrined in law and lashings are required for women judged "immodest."

That's right, those misunderstood Persians get some lovin' from the UN.   THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS!!!

Can you tell I'm pissed?  I'll tell you what I think of the Iranian government and mullahs.  (mom, quit reading here, sorry)  THEY ARE FUCKING SAVAGES!

Not only do the UN's actions make me want to puke, but in the context of Obama rebuffing Israel (our best middle east ally) and not being strident and aggressive against Iran's alllllllllllllllllllllmost there nuclear program,  and his coddling of Islamic extremists, I'm seriously worried. 

The only thing I can think of is that the United Nations is just trying to help women by eliminating skin cancer. After all, the Iranians report that a burqa has an spf value of 100.

Food Chain/Leeks?

 

I'll admit it. Until yesterday I had never bought Leeks.  But they looked so good. Giant green onions begging me to take them home.  Ok, you bought Leeks, now what?  I trimmed them down to  just below the darkest green and  coarsely diced them up. A little olive oil in my favorite cast iron skillet, and in they went along with a couple small sweet peppers and a little home made beef stock. A little salt and black pepper as well. This was three Leeks. It simmered for about 15 minutes on low heat.

click pics to initiate drool sequence

I diced 4 russet potatos  and boiled them until they were fork tender, as well as chopped and browned a couple pieces of bacon.





Everybody in the pool, along with a cup of milk.



Then a handful of grated cheddar cheese, and a little tangy asiago cheese over that.  I also added a couple tablespoons of sour cream. 



A little more stock and let it simmer for about 15 minutes being careful to not smunch up the potato chunks.



The leeks are very mild. Distinct but not sharp like a green onion.  This could be a great cool cloudy day soup, or even served cold on a hot summer day, but I put it alongside a burger. 



I WILL be buying more Leeks.  I think next time I'm going to crosscut them thinly and throw them into a jar with the juice that's left after the pickles are gone, and after a couple days work them into some kind of slaw.  I love new toys.  BTW, I've been trying something different with burgers lately. Add the condiments, for me it's BBQ sauce and spicy brown mustard,  on the grill then cover them with the cheese. NUM NUM!

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Sometimes Life Sucks



That's why I'm going out to the garage and engaging in lifesucks therapy.  Neighbors are gonna be pissed.


Jazz is the ultimate antilifesucks rhythmic medicine.  While I bang, you listen along to Regina Carter. This is what I'm going to go drum to. African American jazz violin goddess.  Seriously, check it out.


Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Bass BBQ/Food Chain



That's Bass. Not Bass.  You know, bass drum, bass guitar, you know, bass.  Bass are fish, not instruments. There's a difference. Got it? 

The point of the bass vs. bass thing is that, despite reading every enclyclopedia I could find, I didn't know the difference between, "base instinct",  and "bass instinct"  until I was about 15.  I felt SO stupid when I found out.  I thought "base instinct" was "bass instinct"  because I couldn't control those deep bass rhythms that incessantly sprang forth from my soul.  An incessant, welcome rhythmic backdrop to my life. Unexplained, it was just always there.  Constant thumpin' companion.

 If my right foot, without conscious permission, just starts poppin' away, that's bass instinct.  If I throw a fat Canadian nightcrawler, perfectly threaded on a laser sharpened hook, into a Smallmouth Bass' nest and she attacks it,  that's bass instinct.  Then there's BASE instinct.

A base instinct is the reason geese, ducks, and myriad other birds fly south for the winter.  Without G.P.S.  I believe one of the most "base instincts" than humans have is sitting around the cave chewing protein off bones.  Today, I succumbed to one of my base instincts.  Enough bass lately, let's do basic beef.




That's a rack of beef ribs, rubbed with molasses, then a run through the dry rub I made.  Dry rub is highlighted by fresh ground coffee and black pepper.  Also, garlic powder, smoked paprika, dried onion, salt, cumin, and a little crushed red pepper.



Plug in bullet type smoker and wait about 4 hours. Lid on of course.



Succumb to the incredibly delicious and coronarilly salacious pleasure of indulging in one of mankinds oldest "Base Instincts."   It's all about the gnawing.

click this pic to double your cholesterol count.

What a rare treat. To indulge until satiated, just like our anscestor cavedudes who had 31 year life spans. That's a "BASE INSTINCT."

this posting was NOT approved by the American Heart Association.  However, it WAS funded by the American Cardiac Surgeons Association  and a couple big cattle ranchers in Northern Nevada.