The Last Post Of The Year

This is the last post of the year.

Earlier today
- I worked from 9 to 4, straight through my lunchbreak, didn't notice the time
- I bought 2 bags of chips, 1 bag of Doritos, 1 bottle of Sprite and 4 Mars bars at the store
- I hurried home through the cold cold afternoon (-27)
- we had supper (soup, very good)
- I set everything up for some movie watching

Right now
- I am writing this post
- I have music playing in the background

Soon
- I will turn off the music
- we will eat the chips, watch movies and drink pop (and fake beer)
- we will not go to the fireworks, because the temperature is supposed to go down to -37 tonight, I'm sure we can see everything fine from our window

The last post of the year is now at its end.
Happy new year.

Soup & Bread

Here is a picture of the soup I cooked today.
(Note the bread I boke.)

Late Gift

Today a package arrived, containing more presents! Yay!
So my list must be updated:

1 cool-looking 5-subjects-notebook
0.5 3 cookie cutters: 1 tree, 1 clover leaf, 1 skull and bones (That's right, it makes skull and bones shaped cookies. Cool. I really like pirates. The idea of a pirate cookie-festival sounds awesome to me.)

The notebook really looks nice and beautiful and pure. Is it really for writing in it? I'm afraid to write in it. It's so untouched. My writing can only... maculate it, can't it?

Thank you very very much, dear late gift-sender!

The Forever-Turkey-Eternity

So we had turkey. It was awesome, delicious, great. With potatoes and vegetables cooked alongside. That was on saturday. A 3-person meal.

Then came sunday, and we had more from the same turkey, my wife and I.

On monday we had turkey, again.

On tuesday we had meat from the same turkey, accompanied by pasta and/or fried eggs and bread.

Today for lunch we had turkey sandwiches.

Today for supper we will have a turkey-based soup.

Tomorrow we'll have more turkey sandwiches and the same soup again.

On friday we'll very likely still have turkey-sandwich-meat and leftover soup, so we'll eat that.

Conclusion:

One 4.5 kg turkey is good for 2 persons for at least 5 days, perhaps even a week.
It's the forever-turkey-eternity.


Oh, and following some hearsay about a great idea some bearded guy out east had about what to do with leftover broth, I froze some of it into ice cubes. Broth cubes! How aeseome is that? Nice broth portions always ready for whatever use necessary. Now I got three racks of them. Probably also good for summertime, great ice-cream substitute.

9 to 5

5.30, to be precise. I have a job now. A regular daytime-weekday-9-5.30 Job. Guess I have to change my little profile text on the right.
I work at the local store, wearing the local-store-uniform (a vest), with a name-tag (with my name on it) pinned to it (chest, right side), carrying a security card with me at all times (using it to check in and out whenever I come and go), having memorized my security-password, typing numbers into the in-store-computer-system (gaining access to it using my security card and password), moving merchandise around, sticking tags to merchandise, filing files, making sure files match merchandise, making sure merchandise matches files and pinning anti-theft devices on (or through) merchandise.
The receiving end of the delivery boy business. Isn't that something.
Now my favourite spare time activity, rotating cleaning day (this week: monday. next week: tuesday. etc) I cannot do anymore. Cleaning day has to sidestep to a fixed weekend-timeslot. Not sunday. The Lord sayeth Fuck off on sundays and Thy be lazy on sundays. So it'll be saturday.
*sigh*
What I hated when I was young I am becoming now: My parent's house's cleaning schedule.
I must have missed a turn somewhere.

Turkey

Right now I am cooking a turkey. The first turkey in my life. 10 minutes to go and it will be ready. Looking golden and brown already. I can smell it. And I didn't take a nap while cooking it, but I could have, because Mr. Turkey was fine cooking all by himself for more than 2 hours.
I'm cooking it to the music of Chopin's Nocturnos. I believe deep piano tunes should make it even more delicious.

What I Got For Christmas

1 black baking pan for poundcake
1 black baking pan for a different type of cake
1 blue sweater
1 dark-colored tuque that has my name on it
1 bottle of shower gel "Diesel: Only the Brave"
1 pair of warm woolen socks
2 packs of German Chocolate
1 wooden recipe box wit some recipes and lots of blank cards in it
1 box of Ferrero Rocher
1 box of assorted Kinder chocolate
1 pair of binoculars
1 National Adubon Society Field Guide to Trees (Eastern Region North America)
1 ancient looking grinding-pot with holes in the bottom and a crank handle
6 Novels:
How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely
The Way Through the Woods by Colin Dexter
Pope Joan by Donna Woolfolk Cross
Streets of Laredo by Larry McMurtry
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
and...
0.5 pepper grinder
0.5 Slap Chop (as seen on TV)
0.5 cuddly stuffed reindeer holding a blanket in its arms
0.5 package of new sheets
and...
1 huge amount of various Christmas chocolate, sweets and cookies
1 toothbrush

AND

1 (early november present:) computer

Wow.
Considering after getting the computer I didn't really wish for anything else I got a surprising amount of presents this year. Conclusion: There must be people out there who like me a lot.
Thank you, people out there! Thank you very much!
Merry Christmas.

Seasoning the Dutch Oven in 22 Easy Steps

1. Wash it with soap and dry well. (done)
2. Take a fuckload of aluminium foil and create a catch-all to put into the lowest possible position in your oven. (done)
3. Put it there. (done)
4. Turn on oven to preheat to 350. (done)
5. Completely grease your cast iron pot with Crisco or similar stuff, rub it into every nook and cranny, don't forget the lid. (done)
6. Place pot and lid upside down into preheated oven. (done)
7. Keep it there for an hour. (done)
8. Suffer the smoke. (suffering)
9. Open windows. (impossible, frozen shut)
10. Open backdoor. (done)
11. Beware of dogs coming inside. (bewaring)
12. Freeze your ass off. (freezing)
13. Hope time will pass by faster. (hoping)
14. Experience constant fear the smoke alarm will go off. (experiencing)
15. Turn off oven. (in 30 minutes)
16. Allow pot to cool. (will do)
17. Hope the catch-all caught it all. (hoping)
18. Wipe off Crisco remains with paper towel. (not yet)
19. Get rid of catch-all and caught Crisco. (later)
20. Shut the fucking backdoor. (does the pope shit in the woods?)
21. Enjoy seasoned pot. (sure)
22. Wonder why it takes so long for the smoke to clear out, open backdoor again. (hope not)

So many presents!

Where did they all come from? I don't know, but they're here. And who lives here?
We live here.
Conclusion:
They are all for us!
Merry Christmas!

The Smoking Mole...

and his fabulous friend!
But first:
The legend himself.

Brato presents:
The
one
and
only!

The
great
awesome
and
unbelievably
wonderful,

the
world-
famous
and
intergalactically
respected

yet
unfortunately
chain-
smoking

Smoking Mole!
(He just arrived from Europe.)
And he is actually smoking, it's hard to see. The smoke smells like fir tree! (Burning fir tree.)

And he brought his friend.
Brato presents:
From a country that once was but today is no more,
He who was born in a factory owned by the people:
Trusty christmas-companion for more than a quarter century!

The
mighty
Nutcracker!And because both of them are always hungry, I promptly made a whole new bunch of gingerbread cookies. Well, almost. I changed the recipe. I replaced the ginger and cinnamon with a different spice mixture (made of cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, allspice and other spices).
For my European friends.
I hope the cookies taste good. So, as the smoking mole would put it:
En-fucking-joy!

Christmas Tree

Volleyball

Yesterday was the day of the annual wife's work christmas party. A big event with large amounts of delicious food and christmas music. People brought their families. Even Santa Claus showed up and gave people presents.
And games. Yes, there were games. The kind of game where somebody in charge makes people participate in ridiculous and embarrasing activities like putting on pantyhose with oven gloves or feeding people while blindfolded.
Thank god I don't work there.
Overall an okay event that lasted about 2.5 hours.

But before that, and I can still feel it in every bone and muscle of my body, on tuesday we went and played volleyball. The last time I had played volleyball was probably in grade 9, and I have only unpleasant memories of it.
In any case, since we were asked to go: we went and played. This village has about 6 or so volleyball-teams (like a team of cops, a team of teachers and so on). Apparently our team has never ever won a single game (or maybe one). Well, putting my wife and me on the team certainly didn't change the statistics. We lost. But, and who would have thought, it was so much fun that we will actually go again next week. I just hope it won't be as painful afterwards as it is now. Must be all the volleyball-related weird movements our bodies aren't used to.
Team sports. Gah.

Baking Cookies

Gingerbread cookies. A whole F-load of them. Iced. Plain. Different Shapes. In January we'll be fat.

A Tree Is A Tree Is A Tree Is A Tree

It's minus 24 outside.
So I put on my awesome Canada Goose Constable Parka (TM), and my awesome Canada Goose Gloves (TM) and my awesome Winter Boots (Which are winter-proof until minus 60 degrees... or was it minus 40 and I paid 60 bucks for them? In any case, my feet are very toasty in them.) and I put on under my Jeans my German Army Olive-Green Long Johns(TM?). Dressed like that and armed with a bag full of packages I walked to the post office.
Very pleasant walk, actually. Sun in my face, no wind, a little bright perhaps... 30 minutes later the bag was empty, my wallet considerably lighter and all the packages were on their way. I walked back.
This time I had the sun behind me. That simple fact caused a massive drop in face-temperature. It felt like my face was freezing off, and exposed to the cold were only my eyes, nose, cheeks and a bit of forehead. Whoo. The rest of me was warm and toasty, though.
So toasty, that the moment you go inside you MUST instantly rip away all that clothing because if you don't you will SUFFOCATE from the terrible HEAT that is trapped around your body.

In front of the store I found some little boy with a bicycle. The chain was off. Boy was sad and whiny. So I said: Hey! Need a hand? and I put the chain back on. While I was busy doing that, some dog decided to jump me from behind? WTF? Hey kid, I said, can you make that dog go away? And the kid did. (I didn't even use swear words.) One minute later the chain was back on, I said: There you go! Kid said: Nothing (not even Thank you.).
I bought a bagful of groceries, took 'em home (face-freeze again), went in, tore the parka off, assembled the No-Name Christmas Tree Stand(TM), put the parka back on and walked back to the store. There I was led into a giant shed where in the very back they have a stash of real Christmas trees. (Before that, in the store: Me: I wanna buy a Christmas Tree. Clerk: Yeah, just take one, they're over there. I: A real one. Clerk: Oh. (uses intercom) Clerk (amplified from everywhere): Costumer Service please for a REAL Christmas tree!)
The trees were all bound and wrapped, looked all the same and I decided that one's as good the next one. I picked one, shouldered it (like Arnie does with a log at the beginning of Commando) and carried it home. (There are certain activities that make me feel good. Carrying a tree on my shoulder is one of them. Wearing white undershirts is another. Like Bruce Willis in Die Hard.)

And now the tree is standing in the living room looking tall and slim like a giant green carrot, because even after removing the wrapping the branches don't immediately come down, because the whole tree is frozen. So we will wait and let gravity do her job.
Nice tree. It goes all the way up to the ceiling.

PS: Yesterday we also walked to the store. And there we bought, unbelievable: A Dutch Oven. A cast iron pot. With a lid. Apparently they're hard to come by. Who would have thought we'd find one in one of two stores in BFNW.

Built too tight

Ventilation, that's what's important! Trust me, I know, and I've learned the hard way. I've just spent the better part of the afternoon dealing with one of the furrier problems this world has to offer: Mould. Mildew. Argh. Disgusting. I don't know who designed this appartment, but it takes one shower to steam up all the windows... especially in the wintertime. I should have known this water wasn't just going to disappear.
Today I decided to finally clean away that leftover dirt and dust where the AC had been during the summer. That was when I discovered it wasn't just dirt and dust, but mould. Yuck! And everything was wet! Big drops of water hanging everywhere! Water standing in the nooks and crannies of the window structure. Hidden behind those office-like curtain things. Trying to look innocent. Black growth everywhere.
A terrible thought dawned on me - I jumped up, ran to the living room window, moved aside the curtains: The same thing! I ran into the bedroom, ripped away the tape that holds the blinds in place, opened the metals bars, swept aside the curtains things: Mildew! Water! The worst contamination imaginable!
Slowly I went back into the living room to check the backdoor window. Yes. There, too.

I thought: Well, mildew, if you want war, you shall have war.

It took only seconds to type in the security code to open the secure kitchen cabinet where the weapons-grade cleaners are stored.
I armed myself with the deadliest window cleaner there is. The ugliest, most disgusting kind. The kind those enviromentalists really disapprove of. The kind that kills whatever it touches. If you value having fingers, never, and I repeat, never attempt to use it without rubber gloves on. If you like being able to go running again in your life, never, and I repeat, never breathe while using this cleaner.
Muahahahar!

I took two hours to clean all 3 windows and 1 windowed backdoor.
Now the mould is gone.
Fuck you, mould!
Don't you dare to come back. I have more liquid death in a bottle! You have been warned.