Soak ‘Em? I Flushed ‘Em!

Dinner’s cooking. There’s a Cajun flavor packet in the bag: the instructions call for the addition of sautéed onions and garlic, a can of diced tomatoes, the juice of one lemon, and either sausage, Italian sausage, or ham. We have an end piece of ham Greg and Beth sent home with us from our Christmas visit, so that’s what’s going in the pot.

I always used to doctor up dried beans, but a couple of years ago I made a batch with the package instructions and flavor packet, and damn if they weren’t tastier than mine, so that’s how I make ’em now … by the numbers. And yes, I soaked the beans overnight. No InstaPot shortcuts for this guy! No InstaPot either …

If I seem a little defensive about my cooking, it’s because of a photo I posted to a Seiko watch group on Facebook. I was at the doctor’s office with Donna, wearing one of my classier watches, when inspiration hit. I took a closeup cell phone photo) of my Seiko-bedecked wrist and hand on the flush lever of the urinal in the clinic restroom, and posted it to the group. As an antidote, you see, to all the artfully arranged photos group members post, expensive watch in the foreground, expensive toy in the background (usually a Mercedes-Benz steering wheel).

Some grasped the ironic intent. Some didn’t. And how:

• Pick your setting man, seriously.*
• Who the f#ck touches a public urinal with their bare hands? Nasty AF.
• So, you didn’t wash your hands before taking the picture?**
• Wash your filthy hands!
• If it’s not automatic or I can’t get with my foot it doesn’t get flushed.
• One thing for sure I’m not using my full hand, grabbing my phone and taking a picture.
• All of us in the Civilized World use our foot to touch that lever. Cleaning it is another conversation. Using it with your hand is disgusting.***

*As if I didn’t?
**Isn’t that something you do after?
***I’ve never seen anyone do this at a public urinal. Maybe some do it in stalls, where the flush lever is closer to the floor, but to pull a Monty Python silly walk leg-lift to reach a urinal flush handle four feet above the floor? That’d be a sight to see.

Anyway, if you’re thinking about making a crack about my menu choices or my casual and very probably unsanitary methods of cooking, you can fuck right off.

Oh right, the doctor. Donna’s ailing, so I took her there. Her nasty cough went away several days ago, but she coughed so much, and so forcefully, that she pulled a muscle in her back. She asked the doc for advice and painkillers, which she’s on now, knocked out to the extent that if I expect to eat I’d better cook my own meals. Oh, I almost forgot her waking up in the middle of the night with vertigo so bad she nearly puked trying to reel her way to the bathroom. That too went away, but not for a few hours. It’s hell, getting old. Do not recommend.

Speaking of artfully arranged photos, here are a few items that followed me home from my USAF flying career, rediscovered this morning in the tool cabinet:

The prize of the lot is the tritium lensatic compass with its leather case, good as new and functioning properly after all these years. Also found my emergency G-suit pocket knife (the orange one): it has a switchblade release so you can open it with one hand if you’re injured, and a hook blade for cutting parachute riser lines (thank god I never had to use either feature). The big Rambo knife is another issue survival item, carried on your survival vest in combat, with a leather sheath and even a whetstone. Hell, throw in a pack of condoms and a fella could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas.

Our HOA general meeting is tomorrow and I’m chairing it, so I’ve been busy typing agendas, sending email reminders, and setting up a Zoom session for folks who can’t attend in person. Donna’s the association accountant, so she’s been busy with Excel and Quickbooks, preparing budget reports. I’m off to the library soon to make copies. I was HOA board president for three years in the early 2000s, and am finishing another three tomorrow. Someone else can take a turn! I know HOAs get a bad rap, and some of them earn it. Ours has always been pretty laid back, and I did my best to keep it that way.

Stay fresh, cheese bags!