Sunday, May 28, 2017.
The Mowing Season Begins.
I have today and tomorrow off from the radio show. Perfect timing for that and the delivery of our lawn tractor after several weeks in the shop. The price to repair an assortment of problems, each one of which was enough to keep it from working, was $400. This strikes me as a bargain. The shop even washed the inch or so of dirt off the unit. I have already used it for almost twenty years, much of which was borrowed time.
I was pleasantly surprised that the thing fired up immediately. I cut the entire front lawn, except for the parts of it with such soft soil that I would get stuck if I tried to go there. I tried my hand at cutting the parts where the dogs cave had a ball digging holes. Some of these are a foot or more deep. I'll have to fill those holes one of these days.
I spent the rest of the day having breakfast (solo; the Marys are in town hanging out at ML's apartment), working on the web site, and updating my mailing lists, and not having dinner. And working on the diary piece on the subject of this year's NOW&FE. When MA comes home, she and I watch a classic movie I've heard about for a long time, but which I had never seen: "The Man In The Grey Flannel Suit." It more than lives up to its reputation. In fact, I'd say it's one of the most finely crated films I've ever seen. Even the parts involving World War II, which surely hit home with the original 1950s audiences, for whom the War was still a vivid memory.
On the Mary-Ann-O-Meter, it ranked high, because she stayed to watch the whole film, which she rarely does.
Monday, Memorial Day, May 29, 2017.
Pork Tenderloin, Pork Ribs, And Other Meatlover Fare.
I have the day off again, so I join the Marys for an afternoon of grilling in the traditional civil holiday style. MA asks me what I'd like to grill. I suggest pork tenderloins. I am not even a little surprised that MA comes back from the store with the tenderloins, but an equal amount of pork ribs, which, she says, were very inexpensive. As was ground beef for burgers. She gets that, too. And potatoes for fries. Menu A-1, in other words.
When I inspect the Big Green Egg, I discover that I have still not replaced its rusty grill. We've needed a new one for quite a while. I ask MA to stop at the hardware store to get one. She comes back with a beautiful stainless-steel job, a little smaller in diameter. She is concerned that the grill seems to be coated with oil. This, I tell her, is the equivalent of seasoning the grill. But I have checked into this with the manufacturer, who says that there is no need to season this kind of grill. I taste nothing foreign in the food.
I maintain a nice fire for about an hour before we actually start cooking. The pork tenders and the ribs fit onto the grill perfectly. After about eighteen minutes, the meats are fully cooked to 160 degrees. That or a little less is ideal for pork, which becomes safe after ten minutes at 140 or higher. However, the girls want it cooked until all the juices are gone. I seem to have passed along almost nothing in the realm of good taste to my wife and children.
Meanwhile, MA grills the burgers over the electric grill in the kitchen. She sets a few small fires fueled by the burger fat. I blow them out. My reputation as of being full of hot air is fulfilled.
The "bistro fries" MA makes are as wonderful as always. I eat too many of them with too much salt. Mary Ann uses the indoor grill on some very spicy andouille. Except for the fries and the beautiful salad ML composed, this is a meatlover's feast.
I am the only one who eats any of the pork tenderloin, which is now overcooked but otherwise more or less what I had in mind. It will make good sandwiches, too, with cole slaw on the sandwich.
This will be of no interest to anyone but me, but today I had a breakthrough in my methods of capturing photos from my new smart phone, my real camera, and my desktop computer, all of which hold hundred of pictures I've taken over the years. For months, it became almost impossible for me to extract the shots, or even to figure out where they disappeared to. This is why I have no photographs of the Meatlover's Feast just served.
I can't explain the degree to which this has been driving me nuts. Computer tech guys surely have a job for life, and a necessary place in heaven.
The radio show takes the day off, but nothing else in my busy life does. I wrote an entire NOMenu Daily, and most of an article I'm doing for Inside Northside. And all that fooling around with the computer directory massacree.
