Chihuahuas and kitties disapprove

    We are tending toward going vegetarian, possibly even vegan. I'm not sure why on Tamara's part; I'm not absolutely sure why on my part. We just are. Dogs and cats tend to want to steal human food. We warn them: you aren't going to like this! Tamara's senior chihuahua Lucy gave a taste to her vegan pasta last night (complete with dairy-free soy-free gluten-free Beyond Beef); Lucy was not best pleased.
    Since I put onions in everything, which cats cannot eat, the change doesn't make much difference on the feline end. This is probably lucky. Dogs are generalists like us. Cats are obligate predators. So nice people who try to make cats into vegetarians are making a mistake. This means that we might go vegan some day, but our dogs and cats are not likely to. No doubt the bunnies have mixed feelings.
    Ms. Amelia has commanded OUTSIDE. As she is dowager empress of Olympia, I have complied. (The fact that it's supposed to rain from midnight on for about 24 hours might also have some bearing.) So for the first time I can remember, I'm out on the porch typing this while I maintain feline surveillance. I'm glad I have reached a stopping point anyway, as a jail break appears to be being contemplated as I type. Uh oh!

C'mon, Dollar Tree!

    For decades, I've been looking for Tastykake fruit pies down here. They are a favorite in Philadelphia, also said to be available in New Jersey and South Florida, but not in between. There are many Tastykake products available in supermarkets here, but never the fruit pies.
    The other day in Dollar Tree, I found them. Mind you, it's years since I ate gluten, or high-fructose corn syrup, so it was more of a nostalgia rush to see them again. They're in bags these days instead of cartons, but I won't be sampling them to see if there's a difference. The problem was that I was in Dollar Tree looking for the previously mentioned fuller's earth kitty litter, and I couldn't find any.
    That was the moment when I was going to change the litter boxes. When I couldn't find the stuff I wanted at Dollar Tree, I just stayed with the stuff I've been using. Then the next Dollar Tree I looked in had the kitty litter but not the Tastykake pies. Really, I was just curious; I wasn't going to cheat with them! I was actually looking at this point for some kind of welcome mat or front door runner to prevent Amelia from destroying the carpet around the front door. At Family Dollar, I found the mat and I also found more fuller's earth kitty litter, also for $1.
    The point of all this whiffling is that I find it odd that inventory varies so much from store to store at Dollar Tree. Not shocking or anything; inventory varies somewhat from store to store at Publix, too. And also, it does finally appear that if I decide to change my kitty litter, I will have a steady supply of the cheap stuff. Now I just have to decide.

Charlotte adventure, card edition

    I can tell you now (could probably tell you before, but showed discretion) that we went to Charlotte because one of Tamara's rabbits was dying, that it takes a vet with special training to put a rabbit to sleep, and that the closest one on Saturday afternoon was in Charlotte. It was a sad, sad day, and Tamara is still sad to lose Grace, but we made do. One has to eat, so we determined at least to eat well, and as I said ate at a wonderful Colombian rotisserie chicken place called Pio Pio. However, by that evening, I found that my debit card had stayed at Pio Pio. By the time I learned this, they were closed. Next morning, I talked to the bank, and they recommended cancelling my cards (I had a duplicate, with which I bought gas when I found out that card #1 was missing) and they would send a new one. Bank lady confirmed that there had been no transactions other than the ones I had made, though. I made an ATM run and then the deed was done.
    Since then, we ate the leftovers, which were if anything even better than at the restaurant. Thus we are definitely absolutely going back, if not sooner then when we see Steely Dan and Steve Winwood in July. But I suspect we'll pay in cash...

Further perils to gluten-free living

    Of course, I've blogged about this already, so the "further" is unnecessary, but it had a nice rhythm. "Unexpected" had one syllable too many and anyway the fact that I've blogged about it before makes that word not terribly applicable either. This is about licking envelopes. There's usually gluten in the envelope glue, so celiacs aren't supposed to lick them. As most billing parties provide return envelopes and often there's even coding preprinted on them which supposedly speeds them on their way, I generally just use them, moistening the flap with a damp paper towel.
    However, sometimes there is no envelope and if I have to go buy some, I prefer the self-closing kind with the strip of paper you pull off of the glue. I bought some at Staples a while back (and whined, moaned and blogged about it) and today, having finally run out of those, tried out Office Depot. The latter didn't have any small packages of envelopes (I don't use many) but what they did have was a sale. So I could have gotten 50 envelopes for $17, 45 for $10, or 100 for $7. As I recall, the expensive ones were the non-security type and the cheaper ones were the security type. Go figure. So although 100 envelopes is likely to be a lifetime supply for me, I went for the latter. I know that this is nothing earth-shattering. I was just bewildered by the crazy array of prices. And pleased to be able to make it work for me.

Sucking up to the General Assembly, permanently

    Almost twenty years ago, I was volunteering for the Center for Environmental Policy at the Institute of Public Affairs of the University of South Carolina. (Whew!) This was located in a university building called Carolina Plaza, which had previously been a high-rise motel called the Carolina Inn. For a year there, the SC General Assembly (legislature) were there with us, as the State House was being renovated, complete with turning the green copper dome shiny again, however briefly. (Just don't ask.)
    There was a certain irony in this, because Carolina Inn was home to a bar where many sleazy political deals were, uh, consummated. Regardless, the Department of Transportation, or possibly the city, decided that they didn't want any unhappy legislators, so they retimed the light at Pendleton and Assembly to turn red for Assembly a LOT, allowing pedestrians to cross often.
    Carolina Plaza is long gone, the pols have gone back to their natural home, and that light still turns red for no reason, traffic calming or traffic-related, all the time. This includes this Easter morning before 8 in the morning. They could of course have just put in a button allowing pedestrians to request a crossing; we had that technology in the '90s. But no; politicians can't wait that long. Well, it IS called Assembly Street, I guess. I'll just have to develop patience against annoyances I can't control or figure a better route. But it IS awfully annoying.

Some things work out

    For sad reasons that I'm not going to mention, we suddenly had to go to Charlotte. I didn't know how long I would be gone nor when I'd be able to feed the cats. Normally, I feed them four times a day, twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon. This was noonish, hours before either afternoon feeding. I solved this by giving them all their afternoon food at once, and solved the problem of Harry tending to eat it all by leading him outside with his food first, leaving Amelia inside with her food. They ate it all and neither seems to have suffered any ill effects.
    After the sad part, we found ourselves in a major city with a wealth of interesting restaurants to choose from and more appetite than we expected. We went to a Latin place, seemingly Colombian, specializing in rotisserie. It is called Pio Pio and we highly recommend the chicken. Also the jalapeno sauce. Not that there was anything wrong with anything else, but those two things were insane. Chicken tender beyond belief. So even though the reasons were sad, we had about as nice a time as you can have under the circumstances. Cats have been rewarded for being relatively good with an extra small can of cat food.

Them allergies

    Hmmmmmm. As I spend less time here and more time at Tamara's, my allergies are clearing up. My nearly stopped up right ear mysteriously opened up without resort to peroxide or other remedy. My breathing is a little touch and go, but I think that may be because I keep going on long walks without remembering to bring my water. In other words, I'm just a little dehydrated.
    Now Tamara has three bunnies and two chihuahuas. If my allergy were to animal dander in general, it would probably be worse over at her place. That it isn't suggests either that I'm specifically allergic to cat dander or to the darn darn darn kitty litter. I think it got better when I switched from the clay kitty litter to the sawdust one, but not a lot. I'm still planning to try the fuller's earth litter. I hope that will improve things. At some point, I'll definitely be living some place larger, which will help more.
    What it all means, of course, is that a person with common sense would give up the kitties, but I have never been that person. I love the rotten stinkies. Long ago, somebody told me that if I was allergic, I was crazy to shorten my life living with cats. I don't mind being that kind of crazy. Also know how to buy Benadryl.

Yes, Virginia, there is, isn't, might be or couldn't possibly be a Santa Claus

"Dear Google,
    I am an eight-year-old girl. My name is Virginia. My friends say that there is no Santa Claus but I don't believe them. I believe in Santa, but they are making me wonder. My Pa says that if you see it in the Google, it's so. So tell me, Google, is there a Santa Claus?"
"Dear Virginia,
    Yes there is definitely a Santa Claus. Wait, there is absolutely no chance that there is a Santa Claus because it would be physically impossible for one being, no matter how quick his reindeer are, to visit all the homes in the world in one evening even if he only limited himself to the Christian ones where the little boys and girls had all been good. No hang on, as long as a child believes, there is certainly a Santa Claus. That whole North Pole thing just has to go, though; not only is there no land there, there's hardly even any ice there anymore! Also they prefer to be called little people. Also the flying reindeer thing? Please! Also Rudolph should probably cut down on his drinking. But back to your question, Virginia: of COURSE there is a Santa Claus! And you can just ignore all those hits about the 5th century bishop from Asia Minor. It's definitely a big fat guy in a red suit. And I know what you're going to ask next! If you don't have a chimney, he can get in anyway! Santa has many, many, many skills. What else does he have to do 364 days of the year but learn lock-picking, I ask you?!
    So Virginia, tell all your little friends 'Ha ha, you're wrong!' There is definitely, absolutely, unquestionably a Santa Claus, unless there isn't. Next time though, ask Siri. She'll tell you all about a Tim Allen movie!"

And the search resumes

    A year or so ago, as I most likely blogged about incessantly, Aldi introduced a gluten-free bread that was unprecedented. It tasted good. It had nice, soft texture. It-- well, I don't have a toaster, but I suspect that it toasted well. Anyway, it made a neat grilled fake cheese sandwich. At the time, I googled the ingredient list and found that it was from a British Columbian company called Western Family. Their website is pretty near impenetrable to me (might need the keyword "eh") but I gather that they're a supermarket chain out there. I had searched against the inevitable day when Aldi would change their mind (as they always do) and get a different supplier or discontinue the item altogether.
    They did. Their gluten-free bread is in nearly the same packaging but now comes from Ireland. Same old stuff: bad texture, dry, tastes like soil. Western Family's site hasn't gotten a lot more comprehensible (eh) but I don't imagine that they're in the mail order business. Searching Western Family gluten-free bread amazon got me nowhere as well. So I guess the search resumes. What stinks about it is that I had accepted that there is no good gluten-free bread and had learned to live without sandwiches. Now that I've found that it's possible, it's markedly harder to go back to a sandwichless life. Just got to move to Vancouver!

No one here gets out alive

    I had been having "Five To One" by the Doors running through my head pretty consistently, particularly when I was with Tamara. This could be a little alarming, since the most salient lines in the song are the subject line above and "We want the world and we want it... now? NOW!!!!" But no, nothing like that. I finally figured out that it was running through my head just because Jim says "Love my girl" in it a lot. Although we DO want the world and we want it now as well. But then, maybe we already have it.

A reappraisal

    Mind you, I will never be a fan of retailers offering MVP programs, preferred customer programs, or anything of the type. Just lower your prices for everybody is always my advice. However, I finally figured out what the clerk at Pet Supplies Plus was trying to tell me when I got peeved and blogged about it the other week. The idea is that if I give them my Pet Supplies Plus Preferred Pet card (I swear I'm not making this up) every time I buy regardless of whether or not there's a discount, then they'll know what I'm buying and put it on discount more frequently. And of course, the only drawback to doing so is getting an email that I don't want and can easily ignore. That in turn only annoys me because I repeatedly told their site ONLY ONE EMAIL PER MONTH. This, however, reflects more on the central office in Michigan than anyone here.
    Still, what annoys me about these programs in general is that the companies are enlisting me without pay to do their market research for them. As such, I have a feeling that they would get better cooperation if they gave a $1 discount on every Preferred Pet card transaction above and beyond any sales prices. Then they could even send me email about it every time. Are you listening Pet Supplies Plus?

Shenanigans

    Oh nothing. I just thought it was funny. I feed the cats four times a day, not because I'm so nice but because it seems to work best. I generally give them the first of the afternoon feedings when I get back any time between 3:30 and 5:30. Today, it was like 4:30. Both cats had been inside all afternoon. So Harry ran out as soon as I got back. Then he realized where the food is, so when I opened the door again, he ran right back in again. Hard to describe, I realize, but pretty comical at the time.
    Shouldn't an English sci fi show be called Dr. Whom instead?

Wish granted, kitty litter edition

    Earlier I remarked that I would like to find old original Kitty Litter, which is to say sand and fuller's earth. Knock me over with a pin when I find at Dollar Tree (where everything is a dollar) seven-pound bags of kitty litter made from fuller's earth from Virginia. I am sorely tempted. Finding reliable reviews has been tricky; the Internet being what it is, the few reviews I could find might easily have been put up by the manufacturer. Still, the "I don't believe I found this at Dollar Tree!" aspect adds a degree of verisimilitude. Caveats that come to mind: fuller's earth is still clay, and clay is hard to breathe for cats and people; the bags seem small so seven pounds may not go so far. Still, it's extra neat to find something I was looking for at a very low place in the last place I would have expected to find it. Even if I never buy any, SCORE!

True loved killed the bloggery star

    Hey, it's an entry, right?!

ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!

    So, the Moody Blues show. First, dinner at the Good Life Cafe was great. Tamara liked my manicotti and I gave her the leftovers for lunch today, so yay! Telling the servers that we had a show to get to got us out the door in plenty of time. Although the Moodies didn't start quite on time, they were surprisingly close to it. Old pros, they are!
    We loved being on the floor in the fifth row towards the center except... we couldn't hear them well. It seems like the big speakers hanging above were projecting right over us and we were listening to the stage sound. They were very nice Marshall amps and all, but not that loud. If you've ever been to a rock concert in your life, you're familiar with the vibration running through your entire body and the ringing in your ears after. Nothing like that here. Operationally, what it meant was that it would have been a perfect show (since the Moodies were just absolutely flat great) if everybody had sat in their seats and listened attentively like it was an orchestra concert. But rock and roll fans don't do that.
    The people behind us sang along louder than Justin Hayward, yelled "MOODY BLUES!" frequently ("Very good! You know where you are! Here's a cookie.") and "ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!" some 45 times. All of this would be normal rollicking rock show good times if it hadn't drowned out the actual band. After an hour, the Moodies took an intermission and wise Tamara went off to get us glasses of white wine so we wouldn't punch anyone. She also asked the people behind us if they were having trouble hearing the band, because we were. ("ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!" he said.) One lady said she had hearing aids-- AND ear plugs. It's possible that they behaved better in the second part of the show; it's possible that the wine just kicked in. (We were dancing a bit during the boogie-woogie part of "Tuesday Afternoon" and earplug lady clapped me on the shoulder for some reason.) What's sure is that we won't be paying for another show at the Township Auditorium again. Or if we do, we won't bother to be down on the floor. I won tickets for the Jackson Browne show, postponed to late May. The noisy people also mentioned that they would be there, too. FOLKY SOLO FOREVER!!!

It's fun to eat at the GOOD LIFE CAFE!

    I had deep things to delve into here, but since we're going to the Moody Blues tonight and like them, I should probably catch a nap, I'll be quick and inconsequential instead. Subject line follows on my brain's recent trend to see if EVERYTHING can be made into a Village People number. First there was turning Happy Birthday into In The Navy, now this version of YMCA. We're eating at the Good Life Cafe before the show, in case you couldn't guess. I'll be interested in Tamara's reaction. Everything is vegan and raw (although dried apparently is permissible) and everything on the menu sounds perfectly ordinary, like hamburger and pizza. When you order one of these things without forewarning, you're very surprised. The only item that particularly resembles the name on the menu is manicotti and it's a fair stretch. Everything is very good, though. I've tried at various times to move Drinking Liberally there, but faced rebellion every time. No chicken wings, no DL, apparently. Pity. Ok! Moodies tonight! Yes!

Truth to tell

    To tell the truth, Historic Columbia Canal and Riverfront Park, blogged about yesterday and reopened today, is a pretty terrible park. Planners didn't much think through the need for shade in this climate and you have to walk under high-tension power lines for a significant distance. The best part is the very farthest end and the entrance and parking area for that end are still closed. The most fun part are the little islands in the middle of the Broad River and they largely washed away in the flood. But I was thrilled beyond words to be back there and in no way disappointed when I left, hours later. I was not the only person to return today and was not the only one best pleased; the dogs seemed particularly thrilled. The far end entrance and parking area didn't seem structurally damaged; there were a gazillion sandbags awaiting assignment in the parking area. Perhaps why that's why it's still closed. It doesn't seem like it will be a terribly long wait for it to reopen. There is the shade problem, but it's a lot shadier at that end.
    I have a lot of memories of Canal Park, many great and some sad, but I was entirely pleased to be back there. I'm not sure, but it looked a lot like they had moved the high tension power lines, or at least some power lines, away from the trail for a distance. So that's a plus too. The canal is not as high as it used to be, but not as sad looking as it was after the flood (and dam breach). On the whole, the city is to be saluted for getting it up and running and open again. Sa-LUTE!

I didn't even get to blog about it!

    I had been getting around to doing a blog entry about this. Walking in Granby Park, I saw the cleanup guys using a golf cart marked Columbia Riverfront Park. That park has been closed since the big flood in October. The non-life-threatening but most dramatic looking part of the flood was the breach of the dam at Columbia Canal. Series of breaches, really. And Columbia Canal is the focus of the Riverfront Park. Even though I fully understood that that park is closed and they might as well keep using the equipment in the parks that are still open, I was more than a little sad. And so it is with great glee that I note that the golf cart can go home, that they're reopening Columbia Riverfront Park TOMORROW!!! The newspaper inexplicably ran a headline that more parts of the park will be open, but there's no indication that any part has been open since the flood. I was about to run over and check, but subsequent edits left out the "more parts" part. I can wait. I can hardly wait. As I keep saying, it'll be good to be home.

No matter how many times it happens...

    Every Sunday, a local station picks up the rebroadcast of American Top 40 from the 1980s. This means that for a large portion of the year, there's a 1 in 10 chance that they'll play a show from 1983 when I wasn't yet back from junior year abroad and for a small part of the year, it's a 1 in 10 chance that they'll play a show from 1982 when I set off there. And no matter how many times it happens (for instance, right now), I'm infinitely amused how many of the songs I don't know, or at least never remember hearing on top 40 radio. Of course, the fact that most of them are bilge kind of sucks some of the fun out of it, but also in a way adds quite a lot back, too.
    In actual '82-'83, I mostly listened to tapes, ones I had brought and ones I bought, and then got into King Crimson's then-current work. (All Terry's fault.) Later, when I had a girlfriend, we listened to BBC1 much more than we should have ("Knock it on the 'ead, mate!") but I remember little except for a lot of Culture Club. Oh and "Come On Eileen." Nothing but "Come On Eileen," and more of the same as soon as I got home. Oh well, it was a small price to pay for a crazy good time.

FINALLY open again

    As mentioned yesterday, Congaree Creek Heritage Preserve is finally open again months after the flood. I would have liked to return there with Tamara, but then, it had been a muddy mess all last year even before the flood, so it seemed prudent to go there myself first to see how good or bad it might be. Also we had dreams of bringing along a chihuahua or two and so that possibility needed to be explored as well.
    The bad news is that it's still a muddy mess. The good news is that it's way better than it was before the flood. Lots of areas where the trail bogged down into quagmire have been bypassed. It has been rerouted for the better many times, affording many extra opportunities to spot alligators. Some of the new trail sections are borderline electrifying, where you're tiptoeing along a ridgeline between small bodies of water. (Once canals or once clay pits, I don't know. Neat regardless, though.) All the storms mean that it's not as shady as it once was, but it's still nice. I'm thrilled beyond measure that it's open again and was thrilled beyond measure to be back. The fact that I saw no gators, nor anything more interesting than a great blue heron, bothered me not at all. We're recovering and it was good to be home.

We have adventures without having adventures

    Today, we visited an organic farm in far Blythewood, a consignment shop in central Blythewood, ate tacos in Five Points, walked a bit on Old State Road and my beloved CONGAREE CREEK HERITAGE PRESERVE, WHICH IS FINALLY OPEN AGAIN(!!!), visited His House Thrift Store on Augusta Road to see their salvage doors and windows and such (and bric-a-brac), I showed her the patio home Alice and I used to live in and my dream tumbledown house. She liked it too, but agreed that there probably isn't enough money in the world to restore it. And we had crazy fun doing basically nothing. We plan to continue like this. Yay!

She's ruined my life

    I was all set to live out my life as a broken old man, alone and convinced that I would never be any use to any woman at all ever. Boy has she blown that all to hell! The nerve of some people, I tell you! I don't think she even asked permission first!
    The not remotely agonizing reappraisal going on in my life right now is nevertheless thoroughgoing. I kind of like the new guy living in my body and if I haven't already recommended to everyone that they get tested or test themselves for gluten sensitivity, well I'm recommending it now. If I have, I'm recommending it again.
    Our big problem right now is deciding whether we can realistically do a summer program in India, whether we could stand the weather if we actually did it, and whether we can someday really pile two people, three rabbits, two chihuahuas and two cats into an RV and go off to see the world. I'm thinking they might not make an RV that big. What our problem isn't is compatibility; we seem made for each other. And I'm so grateful to her for pulling me out of my half-life.
    PS: If you missed it, you should see the new X-Files episode #3 with a title like "Mulder and Scully Meet the Were-man." Hardly ever has anybody had more fun than they were having. All it needed was Trebek and Governor Ventura.

But does it count?

    Yesterday and today, I went walking with Tamara. Each day as the day wound down, my poor scattered brain said, "Oh no! I forgot to go walking today!" Apparently, it doesn't count if it's fun and if you're with somebody you love. But yes, brain, I did go walking each of the last two days. Get used to it.
    Yesterday's chihuahua-kitty showdown was totally anticlimactic. Lucy just enjoyed gamboling around in my apartment and just ignored the cats completely. The cats weren't scared or hostile. Puzzled maybe describes it best. We took Lucy walking at Old State Road, my favorite local long dirt road. She loved it, Tamara loved it, we met a possum (oh all right, an opossum) which brave Lucy protected us from) and we enjoyed a gorgeous day, not even minding the occasional huge mud puddle.
    Today Tamara and I went to Sesqui(centennial) State Park and walked the trail around the lake and also got information about their dog-walking park. The trail seemed quite chihuahua-friendly and we had a lovely time again. I keep trying to take Tamara to my beloved Los Bellos Portales (Puerto Rican restaurant), they keep being closed at lunchtime, and we keep ending up at nearby Village of India. But that has worked out well, too, because their lunch buffet is quite lovely. And Tamara got the electrician to come out and rewire her burned up outlets, so a win all the way. I'm sure it doesn't sound very exciting, but we have fun whatever we do. Nice, isn't it?

The showdown

    Oh no! We're less than a half hour from the first meeting between the devil chihuahua and the calico empress of Olympia. I sense that it may be a bit anticlimactic since Lucyfer the chihuahua can't exactly jump and Amelia the cat is enamored of high places. (High for a chihuahua anyway.) Also Lucy is the sweet chihuahua. She just has the name because somebody once thought she looked like a devil dog and Tamara thought it was funny. Now when Harry the charcoal tabby and Zoey the more excitable chihuahua meet-- then there might be fireworks! Please stand by.

That whole "The Customer Is Always Right" thing

    Pet Supplies Plus are a great bunch, on the whole. They have a wide variety of high quality cat foods, a much better array than anybody else around here. However, they have a certain gulf between the local management and the corporate brass in Michigan. I've been trying for years to get them to stop sending me email every time I breathe, but no matter how many times I tell them that I want at most one email per month, they just send and send and send. Every time I use my preferred customer card, I get an email asking how my visit is, which I invariably ignore in hopes that they might take the hint.
    Thus, I only use the card when there's an actual discount involved. Today there wasn't and the checkout girl was very pushy about me using it. "It still records your purchases," she said, or something very like that. In other words, I'm doing your market research for free. This has never been one of my prime interests and is why I shop at Aldi and Publix, companies that don't have loyalty programs or preferred customer cards, whenever possible. Ms. Tamara would like me to throw down PSP because they sell live rabbits. I am growing ever more sympathetic with this view.

Life event

    Everything about my real-life relationship with Tamara is glorious, fun, wonderful. The Facebook version though turned very slightly strange, reflecting entirely on Facebook and not at all on us. Never having done this before, I tried declaring that we're in a relationship by using the Life Event status update. One of the choices is New Relationship and you can tag the Facebook Friend with whom you're in the relationship. (That came out odd, but I really don't want to add another "with.")
    Declaring that I'm "in a relationship" on my profile proved impossible on the phone for whatever reason. (For non Facebook peoples, this is a different thing than a status update. So I did so from this here computer. In this case, I could also fill in Tamara's name, but it would only be confirmed when she responded to a message from Facebook saying that it's true. I so approve. What I find odd is that they didn't do this on the In A New Relationship status update. Granted that my friends who might have been waiting with baited breath got the word a few hours earlier than they would have otherwise, and moreover we really are in a new relationship. But in theory, I could have said I was in a New Relationship with any or all of my 215 Facebook Friends, including four or more recording artists. Kind of slack, Facebook, not that it was any problem for us personally, but a little weird nonetheless.
    So in short, in case you missed it, I'm in a relationship, and beatifically happy about it.

Synthesizing pernil

    I had a brief phase, last year I think, when I was just flat crazy about the Puerto Rican delicacy pernil. That's marinated pork shoulder. Tamara, for very good reasons not involving religion, does not eat pork. So the current effort is to find a way to fake pernil. I think I mentioned at the time of my pernil obsession that I was nuts about pico de gallo. I am sure that I have mentioned my recent discovery of canned diced tomatoes with lime, peppers and cilantro. In other words, pico de gallo without the onions. That helps! Tonight, we're going to try out pernil-style chicken thigh with vegetables and rice. I don't know how authentic it will be, I'm just hoping for tasty.
    In the end, I hope to make something pico de gallo like with lentils, I mean besides the lentil pancakes I made earlier this year. I dig 'em, but I never did master cooking them throughout without burning the top, bottom or both. I still think that lentils would make a terrific meat substitute. I used to make ok lentil meatballs by adding organic corn grits. I didn't exactly abandon the effort; I just ran out of grits. It might be time to buy more. In the end, I suspect that one or both of us will wind up being vegan. It helps to be prepared.

Kibbitzers

    I have a lot of important stuff and a lot of funny stuff to write about. But right now what's on my mind are these two little weasels that I live with who, since I started feeding them wet food and quit letting them free-feed dry food, whine at me more or less 24 hours a day for more food. I swear that I am not underfeeding them. If anything it would be overfeeding. Love and romance has been great for them. "M-rowwwr!" --"OK, here's some food. Hush now." Granted, they used to whine when the (dry) food bowl wasn't constantly filled, so it's not so different. But I wish that they would hurry up and evolve those opposable thumbs. It's not so hard! We did it, didn't we?
    I must say though that generally they are much better behaved and seem much happier. Since I started adding a little water (tepid and filtered) to their canned cat food, they're both back in the clean plate club. They didn't seem to like pate style, but making it wetter seems to make it OK. And they're good kitties by and large. And Tamara loves them if anything even more than I do. So that works!

81 dolluh tux

    There used to be this great thrift, gift and variety store far out Two Notch Road (also US 1) in Northeast Columbia called It's A Deal. And then it was gone, and we were very sad. The other day, my Facebook feed showed me a memory from a year or two ago featuring something from this store. This was very fortuitous since I couldn't remember the name up til that point. So I looked it up and they had moved less than a quarter mile up US 1. So joyously Paul and I went back, he bought a bunch of books, and I found some new tuxedoes.
    Tamara had told me to look out for a tuxedo, that I might need one, so when we were buying the loveseat yesterday, I took her on the rounds of the thrifts and also to It's A Deal. The best of the tuxes was a Calvin Klein, but it was very big. I thought that my seamstress was magic and could do anything, so I snapped it up for $10. My seamstress, however, told me that it couldn't be done. It was just too big. So today I went back to It's A Deal and asked if I could trade for the 42 Regular tux (I usually wear a 40); he said no problem. The seamstress was much more pleased this time, except that it was the only 42 Regular that they had and that was the size her husband would need. I offered it to her for $10, but I think she preferred being paid to paying out.
    Anyway, she pinned it up and the alterations, which may take all month, will be $71. So I have a brand new tux for $81 and now all I need is the puffy shirt, the black tie and the shiny shoes. Only bad news? That 37 waist fitted suspiciously comfortably. I've been wearing a 34 ever since I dropped the weight after quitting gluten. Ah well, it was a nice run.

Loveseat

    Anybody who has ever met me probably could guess that once I learned of the existence of a store named Furniture Barn, I would have to buy my loveseat there. The fact that there's a sign out front reading, "SHOP HERE NOW" = only a plus. Seriously, they happened to have a crazy comfortable loveseat that happened to be on half-off sale. They also sell used furniture, which we perused after I bought the comfy chair; fortunately there wasn't anything there to make us run back and say, "Just kidding!" The chair is actually being delivered this afternoon, which we thought was pretty snazzy.
    We really would have liked a double recliner, but it's like they're all made for people who don't like each other. Most have a console with drink holders in between, presumably for manly men who want to make clear that they don't want to sit next to each other. Others would fully recline but only while your head is there to hold it down. This would make kissing a somewhat tricky action.
    So it's a comfy, squashy, chocolate brown suedish loveseat. One side is a little more comfortable than the other (on the floor model anyway) but we figure even the less comfortable side is still comfortable. Now what to do with this papa san chair... Meanwhile, you should pay me not to tell you what earworm this loveseat has caused to be stuck in my head. Believe me, it'll be worth it!

Certified

    Back in the late '70s or early '80s, auto dealers decided that used car salesmen had a bad reputation. I don't know how it took this long for them to notice this, as the dishonest used car dealer had been a stock character in fiction, TV and movies for as long as the occupation had existed, but that's just another thing I'll never understand. So there was a push to rename the field.
    For about five minutes, dealers sold "previously owned" cars. This has a lot of syllables and is hard to fit on a sign, but at least it's correct. Since then though, it's been "pre-owned." This is insane on its face and makes me in turn insane on my face. Honda dealers, for example, invariably advertise certified pre-owned cars. I... can't go through with it. I would otherwise march right in and buy a used Honda, but I just can't. I'll buy one off a used car lot first, no matter how dishonest.
    So what's needed is a better adjective. Where I live, "certified born-again" ought to be a winner, but most likely folks would be offended. This morning, I thought I had it: "certified restored." But that latter word already has a meaning in the field and people would expect the car to be freshly repainted, which they almost never are. Reborn or Renewed sound good to me, although again people might want fresh paint. "Broken in"? No. "Previously driven"? No. If they want to sell to me, I think they should go with Used But Not Used Up. I don't think they need the "certified." Who's doing the certifying? Their mechanics? I've SEEN their mechanics. I think they should embrace the used car ethos, put everybody in loud plaid jackets and run with it. WHO'S WITH ME?!