Strange Universe

Tim says: I always enjoy Walt’s writing. Strange Universe. “American Impressionist” is a great blog.

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FFT: Mortar & Pestle

FRIDAY FOOD THING

Mortar & Pestle

“If you don’t have one,  y’oughta get one.”

Years ago, Rich took me to a kitchen gadget store, where I purchased a small ceramic mortar and pestle — a MUST have in any kitchen. I use mine for everything from grinding up sea salt to a fine powder (for such things as popcorn and roasted peanuts) to pulverizing caraway and mustard seed, peppercorns, and — rosemary, my number ONE all time favorite herb. With this in mind, I discovered something rather amazing the other day. . .

I was seasoning a steak. The mortar still had some ground up powered sea salt in it from the last time I had used it. What the heck? I threw in some stripped rosemary from my rosemary bush, and ground them both up together. The salt quickly absorbed the rosemary’s dampness. Afterwards, I licked my finger.

Wow, I thought. “Hey, what a great idea!”

I added more salt and rosemary, tossed in a few peppercorns, ground it up and filled a small empty spice jar with the great-smelling concoction.

Now that I have a nice mortar & pestle, I find I use it nearly every day. It has become an indispensable and attractive addition to my kitchen.

If you plan on getting one, I recommend spending a little extra and getting a really good one. Something that’s heavy and won’t slide around on your counter top.

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It’s Official…

I am a bona fide Geezer. I received my first Social Security check today, deposited — as promised by the US of A Government — ON TIME, in the correct checking account, for the correct amount.

<sigh>

By golly — what’s not to like?

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Tim says: Hmmmm. It took Uncle Sam 60 days (past my 62nd birthday) to get me that first check. Does that mean I’ll get 2 more checks after I’m dead?

DOUBLE Hmmmmm.

Time to play “LET’S DO SOME MATH!”

“The average monthly Social Security benefit for a retired worker was about $1,177 at the beginning of 2011.”

“SSA paid benefits to about 57.6 million people in 2009″

57,600,000 x ($1,177 x 2 months) = $135,590,400,000.00

Where does that unpaid 136 BILLION DOLLARS go?

My brain hurts.

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Thing in a Can

One of my Grandfather’s favorite places to find fishing worms was behind the old Freelandville, Indiana Mill, where tons of spent grain husks and chaff had piled up for decades. The resulting heap of decomposition produced layer upon layer of truly bizarre habitat, and one that to a small boy was downright frightening. Although “Papa” did most of the digging, he always brought along an extra small shovel and encouraged me to find my own worms. “Bigger fish will bite on worms you dig yourself,” he explained.

So, off I’d wander into the rank, steaming mounds of the old Freelandville, Indiana Mill, with coffee can, toy shovel, and teddy-bear in tow.

Whoa!

One day I had just uncovered a particularly nasty patch of compost. Underneath, was the biggest worm I’d ever seen. Even with small, kid’s fingers, the worm was twice as big around as my thumb. “Papa!” I shouted, grabbing hold of it. “There’s a great HUGE worm over here!”

Papa rushed over, thinking I had found a garden snake. He stared down at the worm. “Let’s see what you’ve got there,” he said, stooping as I let go of my discovery. The worm-thing began to pull itself deeper into the compost, its slimy coat glowing faintly as it contracted and expanded its body segments in an attempt at getting away. Papa grabbed it and began pulling on it. The worm tightened, giving up a foot or two, then broke in half, the severed ends exuding an awful smelling pea-green fluid. In his hand was a three feet section of— what?

The front end disappeared down the 3/4-inch diameter hole.

Papa examined the elongated tail section for several minutes. “I’ll be dog-gone if I know what this is!” he exclaimed, dropping the still squirming THING into my can, wiping his hands on his coveralls. (Meme wasn’t going to like that!) Then, we packed up our shovels, hopped in Papa’s 1950s  Ford, nicknamed “the Green Hornet” (based on the radio show series), and went fishing. Later that day I learned something very important to a fisherman’s way of thinking: not only do bigger fish bite on worms you dig yourself, even bigger fish will bite on BIGGER worms you dig yourself!

Thing in a Can Planet

Papa never mentioned the thing in a can again, and to this day, when I lie in bed, tossing and turning and unable to sleep, I sometimes think about the bygone Freelandville, Indiana Mill and wonder…

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Ha Ha Ha Ha Haw, Ha Ha Ha HAW!

VIDEO CURIOSITY

–submitted by “Annie”

Have a SAFE and FUN holiday!

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Tim says: if you’d like to submit one of your own You Tube “Video Curiosity” discoveries for consideration, use the “Contact” form at the top of the blog. Include the link and your first name only. Email addresses (if any) will not be published.

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Simply Tim Splits the Atom

One day Mom and Dad bought me a chemistry set. The outside of the box boasted “101 SAFE PROJECTS FOR CHILDREN”. I think Mom, Dad, and the manufacturer underestimated me.

For my first experiment I decided to make sulfuric acid. Although “How to make Sulfuric Acid” was not listed in the kit’s table of contents, the Athens, Greece library supplied me with more than enough information to get started. I carefully bubbled sulfur fumes through an Erlenmeyer flask containing water I had distilled in the first half of the lab session. This produced a weak solution of H2SO4 (sulfuric acid), which turned the litmus paper the proper color.

Oh, boy!

Mom poked her head into my bedroom. “What are you making?” she asked. “That smells HORRIBLE!”

“It’s just sulfur dioxide, Mom.” I responded. “Smells just like rotten eggs!”

Later, I distilled the weak acid solution, producing a thick syrup. A fresh piece of litmus paper turned bright RED even without submersing it in the fluid. Just the FUMES turned it red.

Oh, BOY!

About a week later Mom noticed a dime-sized hole that had been burned through my bedroom laboratory’s carpet. “What’s THAT?” she asked, pointing the way only mothers can do.

“I must have spilled something on the rug,” I said. “You know, something nasty from that chemistry set.”

Mom was shocked. “Where is the chemistry set now?” she demanded.

“Don’t worry. I threw it away. What I REALLY want is a Gilbert U-238 Atomic Energy Lab!”

Quote from above link: “The set came with four types of uranium ore, a beta-alpha source (Pb-210), a pure beta source (Ru-106), a gamma source (Zn-65?), a spinthariscope, a cloud chamber with its own short-lived alpha source (Po-210), an electroscope, a geiger counter, a manual, a comic book (Dagwood Splits the Atom) and a government manual “Prospecting for Uranium.”‘

Sure enough, several weeks later Dad brought home a Gilbert U-238 Atomic Energy Lab. He was obviously pleased with my continued interest in science, and possibly hoped for a budding nuclear physicist gracing the family tree.

The first thing I did was put some of the uranium powder into the sample of the sulfuric acid I had made…

Those were the days.

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Pigeon Poopers Minus One

There goes the neighborhood.

A number of years ago my neighbors decided to raise pigeons in a coop that was located very close to my driveway. (We’re talking a poorly-zoned suburban setting here.) On hot summer days the coop wafted really nasty pigeon poop smells into my yard and worse if my screen doors and windows were open. From time to time, these good folks would cull their pigeon flock in a gruesome backyard event by butchering and freezing the tiny birds, a practice with which I have no problem if you happen to be living on a farm or in the country. The pigeon flock was frequently freed from the coop in an effort to enforce the homing instinct, or, I suppose, to exercise the flesh before committing to the freezer.

Unfortunately, the pigeons always seemed to find their way home, much to the dismay of the entire neighborhood.

Pigeons from Hell.

On one such day, I neglected to close my vehicle’s windows, which resulted in a flurry of mysterious white droppings and pigeon feathers scattered all over my back seat, and hours of cleanup effort. Seems like one of those damned pigeons made a shortcut visit before returning to the coop. About two weeks later I began to notice a very unpleasant odor whenever using the vehicle. I searched everywhere, but discovered nothing. The odor soon subsided.

A year passed. That’s when I discovered a tiny, mummified pigeon carcass stuffed underneath the front passenger seat.

So much for shortcut visits before returning to the coop.

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We Wish You a Steampunk Christmas

From my friend, Walt’s “American Impressionist” blog…

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FFT: Essense of Fish

FRIDAY FOOD THING

I’m probably one of the few kids who actually LIKED taking cod liver oil. I remember in the 1950s Mom lining up my sister, Pat, and me at the refrigerator door every morning while she spooned out our daily dose of the smelly liquid. Every once in a while Pat would manage  to “sneak” her spoon to me when Mom wasn’t watching. I’d lick off her cod liver oil and “slip” her my clean spoon and collect a whole penny(!) for the favor. (Nowadays, I look at this arrangement as having been more of a symbiotic brother and sister agreement than it was — blackmail.)

This is probably why I think of those good ol’ cod liver oil days every time I open a can of sardines, or find a penny on the sidewalk.

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Go Get ‘em Grasshopper!

VIDEO CURIOSITY

Hahahahaha!

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–submitted by Sally Farmer

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Tim says: if you’d like to submit one of your own You Tube “Video Curiosity” discoveries for consideration, use the “Contact” form at the top of the blog. Include the link and your first name only. Email addresses (if any) will not be published.

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