The Dreaded Drawer Fronts

When natural disasters strike, things have to get done. One of those things is a complete kitchen remodel.  We've remodeled the kitchen twice in the last five years, neither time by choice. 

With the last remodel, the cabinets were delivered with the wrong drawer fronts.  They weren't horrible or anything, just wrong. 

With a few calls to the cabinet company and a few more visits to the vendor, the problem was solved and the correct drawer fronts were delivered.  On to the next issue:  Installation.

I am not - repeat NOT - a precision cabinet maker by any stretch of the imagination.  Whenever I can put off a finish carpentry job, I will. For a long, long time.  This job was no exception.  Weeks, perhaps a month (maybe even 2 months?) the drawer fronts sat there, staring at me, mocking me. 

Finally, last night, I installed them.  It took about an hour.  Not too bad for someone who is a clueless cabinet builder.  So what if they're crooked and have to be adjusted.  At least they're attached. 

The straightening is a job for another day.  (*sigh*)

Butt YOU Called ME ...

So, I got this call yesterday that went something like this:

Me:      Hello?
Sister:  Hello.
Me:      Oh, hi!  What's up?
Sister:   I don't know, you called me.
Me:      I did???  Ohh!!! I probably butt dialed you.  Sorry about that.

From that point we had a delightful conversation about some things that we really should have kept up with every few days.

I should tell you that I also butt dialed my wife a few days ago and inadvertently left her a rather unusual text message. Hmmmm .... This seems to be a pattern.

 The first time I ever butt dialed someone was from an amusement park ride. My poor friend could only hear a "swooshing" sound and the panicked screams of children.  That took a little 'splainin'.

Anyway, I don't know why it took my butt to get me off my butt and call my sister.  I should be calling them all at least every couple days.  I have to do better from now on and actually dial my siblings the old fashioned way - with my fingers.

My Summer Top Ten List

A lot of bloggers are posting lists these days.  "To do" lists, recipe lists, book lists, Christmas wish lists, "Top 10" this and that, etc.

Here is my contribution.  These are the top 10 summer time things that make me happy (in no particular order).

 1. Outdoor Christmas  Lights

2. A Hammock In The Shade

3. Morning Coffee On The Front Porch 

(cream and 2 sugars, please)

4. Autoharp Music (also on the front porch)

5. Campfires

6. Mojitos

7. Burgers On the Grill

8. Picnics

9. Walking in the Park

10. The Pool

So, there it is.  A bonafide top ten list from moi, Tenorboy.

... Later!

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Read my other posts at Genuine Husband!  

Poof Went The Dad And Out Went The Light

A sizzling noise.

A puff of smoke.
A large spark.
A small flame.
Then ... darkness.

*Cough, cough*  I emit yet another puff of smoke as I cough.

"That ....
was ....
COOOL!!"

So said my oldest boy as he watched me fry myself while attempting to change a GFCI outlet in our basement.

The outlet in question is the only thing that stands between the breaker and a fully lit kitchen, and I was determined to change the little bugger today.  The only problem is ..... well, there are several problems, actually.

First, I'm not sure that I own the correct tools for the job.  I used to have the right stuff, but that was in the pre-flood garage inventory.  I have absolutely no idea whether I own lineman's pliers anymore.

Secondly, the outlet is tucked away inside the basement ceiling, in a place that would take a professional contortionist to reach.

Thirdly, there isn't a light in that part of the basement because, well, my guess is that the light is somehow powered by a line coming from the blown outlet.

Finally, It's come to the point in my pathetic middle aged-ness that my eyes simply aren't strong enough to read the chart and shut off the correct breaker, nor to see where the wires are supposed to be place and secured.

Let's face it, even though my son rather enjoyed watching my hair stand on end and seeing me blow smoke from my mouth (he really does need to get out more), electrical work, especially the hard-to-reach variety, is best left to someone else.

I used to subscribe to the idea that I shouldn't do anything that is beyond my capabilities.  "There are people for that," I used to say.

Perhaps I should start saying it again.  Before something bad happens.

Lardy, Lardy!! Is That A Chip???

Everywhere I go there are a gazillion varieties of baked potato chips.  I've tried them.  Not all of them, but enough that I can render the following informed opinion:

Yuck!

No matter how you slice it, a potato chip must be fried to be enjoyed, at least by me.  It isn't that I;m a potato chip snob or anything.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I enjoy all kinds of chips in many different flavors. 

The problem as I see it (more like taste it) is more a matter of flavor.  Specifically, the full mouth feel you get from a fried chip.  I suppose it depends on the fat that is used to fry the spuds.  The best ones are fried in lard (Grandma Utz in the brown bag ...... Oh. My. Goodness).  The worst ones are, of course, baked. 

I know, I know.  The baked ones are healthier.

Oh, yeah?  I don't really care.  All the baked chips I have ever tried were void of any semblance of flavor, with the exception of a slight hint of salt (and I mean slight).  Most of them aren't even made from an actual potato slice; rather, they are formed out of pulverized potatoes.  It's like the potato industry's answer to "pink slime." 

Anyway, my vote is in, and I vote for fried (in lard, thank you)!  Oh, yeah, and what I said about not being a potato snob is true.  I'm not a potato chip snob, but I am a purist, so when you pass the chips, please be sure they are the traditional, salted variety, sans vinegar, sugar, bbq, sour cream, or any of the other gobbledy goop they spray on 'em these days. 

BTW - Ridges are okay.


... Later!

Best Answer ... Really???

Once in a while I hang out over at Yahoo Answers to see if I can impart some of my fascinating knowledge on the rest of the world.  Really, I just like to see if there are a few questions I can answer, to help someone out.

I've done this a couple times a week for about a year now.

I usually read a bunch of stupid questions from people who are just there to get a rise out of the crowd, or are seeking some kind of weird attention.  Sometimes I find a question about which I actually have some expertise and can offer constructive tips and useful information.  Other times I utter an opinion.

In any case, people (I do not know these people) vote on the answers to some questions.

Well, today one of my answers was chosen as the "best" answer to a question.

I really wish I could be proud.  I would be proud if I had answered a question that had significance in the world, or even in the neighborhood.

What was the question?

Which is better - a pop tart or a toaster strudel?

 My answer?

It depends. If you need portability, like if you have to take it with you and eat it on the go, then pop tarts are definitely the right choice. If you want better flavor, texture, overall quality, then toaster strudels are the pastry of choice.

 Can't you just feel the intellect oozing from these sentences?

Of all the questions I've read and all the answers I've written, THIS is my best work.  Blimey!!  I'm going to bed.


... Later!

Just Let Me Get Up In The early Morn' ...

There's an old song that goes

Just let me get up in the early morn,
Just let me get up in the early morn,
Just let me get up in the early morn,
And I'll never sleep late anymore.

That's what has been happening to me.  Here I am at 5:45 on a Saturday morning, reading my Bible and going through my blog list and my prayer list.  I don't have to go to work, nor do I really have to be up this early. 

However, I am really beginning to love this time in the morning, when family is still asleep, to shower and dress, and start my day in quiet reflection, calling upon the Lord to help me focus.  I like to pray and read, and sit quietly and think. 

The day somehow becomes a whole lot easier.  It's becoming a habit.  A good habit.


... Later!