Blueberries, strawberries, The Garden is Growing!

Every weekend (and a few days midweek) sees us putting more stuff in the garden: edibles as well as ornamentals. This weekend we are adding blueberries to the strawberry patch, even though they are entirely different in shape and could block my access to the herbs in the back...come to think of it, I may have to veto this choice of space.

So far, our list of veggies already in the ground is:

tomatoes (four cultivars)
eggplant (one cultivar)
potatoes (two cultivars)
celery (one cultivar)
strawberries (who knows what is in there)
Swiss ruby chard
mizuma
green bib lettuce
some red leaf variety of lettuce called "four seasons" - never heard of it, but it looked good
arugula
key limes
Persian limes
Navel oranges
citron
garlic

What is planned:

carrots
fennel
watermelon radishes (maybe)
Tuscan melon
fava beans (perhaps)
ginger
shallots

I am not counting the herbs. That is next weekend's project, when I will plant the basil.

I am also not counting the avocado, which will, in all probability, fail to produce fruit. I might try growing coffee in the living room, but only as a novelty: I don't think I can get a weekly yield of a pound and a half.

The Short Hair Ethic Shall Triumph!

Yes! Do it already! There is nothing worse than these sports stars running around looking like a bunch of criminals. They should ban all of these degenerate styles (illustrated by the barbarian in the photo that goes with the story). The NBA, which used to be the model of decorum in sports, should follow suit. A good haircut (and laser removal of tatoos) should take the sneer out of even the most prideful seven-foot thug on the court.

Here's NeoPuritanism for You...

If a study on tobacco-related health issues were funded by a vehement anti-smoking organization would anyone suggest that it was inherently tainted? The measure of the validity of a scientific study is the data and the logical interpretation of said data, not in who paid the bills.

Happy Easter!

I hope you all had a great Easter Sunday. I did. So much so that I am not up to writing much, but I will tomorrow. Lots to write about. Little time in which to do it.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new project for me: it will start informally, more as a test of a concept, but hopefully it will start the Erik Keilholtz Cooking Show. No, that will not be the name. For one thing, I have a co-conspirator in maters culinary, and second, it would be a horrible name anyway. Tomorrow I am making an instructional video on how to make fresh pasta. It is primarily for consumption by a family we know that owns a deli and wants to learn how I make fresh pasta. I have been making fresh pasta since I was knee-high to a duck. I learned from my mother who learned from hers and so on. In my family's corner of Tuscany there was no tradition of dried pasta. Too much humidity. So, when they weren't eating beans (we are the mangiafagioli after all), they made and ate fresh pasta.

There are still some who think that fresh pasta is superior to the dried. It isn't any more than pasta is superior to risotto. They are different ducks with different quacks. Why all the corn-ball duck imagery? I have been craving duck confit.

Speaking of corn, we watched The Hee Haw Collection, Vol. 4, which features Waylon Jennings. It is fantastic, although there are a couple of duds, as all of them have. For instance: the Hagens. I am sure they are nice guys, but putting them on the same bill as Waylon and Buck and so on is just cruel. Amalia thinks that there was not enough Archie Campbell, and she is right, but both of us would be happy to have an all Archie Campbell DVD, so we are probably a little biased.

So long, Joe, it's been good to know ya!

Well, we are at the point in the campaign where opposing sides are taken to pulling the "you sound like Joe" routine. Yawn.

"Hey Joe! Where you going with that list of 57 known subversives in your hand?"

I could write for hours on the Hon. Sen. Joseph McCarthy, but I must get the ribs on the grill.

Have I posted the recipe for my semi-Javanese Californian grilled spareribs?

I should if I haven't.

Still up to my ears in work...

I know that these excuses are tedious, but they are true: I am doing an experimental technique on something for the Church that must be done by Thursday. It is taking all of my time. And then comes the Triduum! I am singing on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday, so everything is pretty booked up. Obviously, I like to write about other stuff as a break, so it is not inconceivable that some of these posts will go up this week.

You are Useless, United Nations!

Let's see...I would hate to sell the UN short. After all, Alger Hiss's brainchild must be good for something. They were able to prevent war in Korea! Oh. Wait. No, they didn't. They prevented war in Serbia! No. Scratch that, it was Iraq. Twice! They prevented war Twice in Iraq! Not really.

But they prevented the Taliban from blasting the ancient statues in Afghanistan! No. And the slaughters of the Khmer Rouge! oooops.

And now they seem to be functioning as some sort of great bully pulpit for secular neo-puritanism and enforced "healthcare" (scare quotes because it has little to do with health, and this health they don't care about as much as the profits from the business and the power from setting the legislative agenda). From helping to lead the charge against tobacco to trying to wipe out traditional uses of coca in order to prevent silly westerners from misusing a by-product of it. I am glad that there are others out there yelling "bullshit!"

I think the United Nations complex in New York will be turned into a new sort of urban prison for liberals in the Keilholtz Dictatorship. They can file into the General Assembly room to listen to invigorating speeches from Dear Leader.

Busy, busy, busy....

As usual, I have been up to my neck in stuff to do, some of which is great blog fodder (food talk, art talk, fishing talk, etc.). I cooked for a dinner party last night, and took some pictures (although not on my camera, so I must wait to get the pictures, and I will post them when I do) to go along with recipes (that is always fun). I have been doing more research on Diebenkorn (the mark of a dork - he who unwinds by sitting down late at night with a pile of art books and follows the development of one artist's use of a particular division of space - NERD! NERD! NERD!), and so on.

However, I have a big art project for the church, and it must be done immediately, because it should be in place by Holy Week, which starts, uh, tomorrow! Yippeee! If you smell paint around here, you will know why. So, see you Sunday night, as I will not be at the computer much today or tonight.

Official Notice by the BlogDuce

Effective on March 17, the Imperial embargo of the State of New York officially ends.

While We still must look down our noses at the fools of the Empire State for voting in that man (not to mention Hillary, RFK, FDR, etc.), We do not forbid any travel to or commerce with any business in the State after Monday. Please note that We have already exempted any business that was a victim of Mr. Spitzer.

I dunno...

How about the UN butt out of Serbian affairs? I like it better than the UN telling Serbia to stay out of Serbia.

I eagerly expect Easter this year.

I mentioned to a friend that I couldn't wait for Lent to be over and he said, "well, that is probably a sign of a good Lent, if you are really looking forward to Easter." I suppose so, but I don't feel that it has been a particularly deep or spiritual sort of Lent. Once again I find that slump in the middle.

You start with Ash Wednesday, and are in a fever for penance and increased prayer and so forth, and then it starts breaking down a little bit: you slip on something you gave up, the first time was forgetfulness, the second time with a little more rationalizing, etc., you realize that you never did add those rosaries you were going to add to the week, the number of mid-week masses has not gone up one iota, at most you are proud that you got some chore done around the house (and almost resisted using that as an excuse for some sort of indulgence or another), and then it hits: two weeks out. Ah yes! Lent. Time to get serious again. And then the practical stuff hits: all of the chores that must be done by Easter and so forth, and those last two weeks start to feel like penance (in my case a big part is my own stupidity in planning, so it is more of chickens coming home to roost than any great devotion to penance).

Anyway, another year, another mid-Lenten slump. Easter is around the corner, and I have to chalk it up as a mixed bag Lent, but knowing that I could have done better. Much better. And that is the worst, because to know that, you have to recognize that you chose the path of indifference (at best) to various graces, and that opens up a whole new can of worms.

Spitzer...Resign!

One should not titter and giggle when first class chumps like Elliot Spitzer get caught with their pants down, even when they are notorious for "going after corruption." But it is so hard sometimes. So hard. Titter. Giggle.

The California Wolverine

Almost as legendary as Bigfoot is the California wolverine. We know that there was a population of wolverines in the high Sierra, and possibly one in the Trinity Alps, and reliable folks have claimed sightings of them every so often, but no one has offered any proof since the 1920's. So, whenever the wolverine was discussed in conversations about our fauna, the parenthetical (possibly extinct) was always appended. Wolverines are those sorts of creatures that you would like to think roam our high mountains, although I don't think anyone actually wants to meet one in the wild. Called "stink bears" in other parts of the world, wolverines are mustelids who "smell like skunks and have the strength of bears" as one book describes them. Sharp teeth, massive jaws, powerful paws with dagger-like claws, the wolverine is a formidable carnivore.

Well, thanks to modern technology, a photo of a wolverine was snapped in California, and not only was it in California, but it was in the Tahoe area, not the much more remote high Sierra to the south (around Mt. Whitney).

My friends...

I was going to write about the use of the vertical in the Ocean Park paintings of Richard Diebenkorn. However, the St. Anthony of Padua Institute is planning something very exciting and we had an emergency work meeting, leaving me with little time to write. And, I am trying to get fellow home-schoolers up in arms in an effective way (have I ever mentioned how much I hate petitions and letter writing?). So, even though I have done a lot of preparation for this Diebenkorn essay, it will have to wait until next week (inlaws are coming this weekend...no time, no time). Sorry.

You do know that I only treat the blog this way because no one pays me to write it? I know, it is crass, it is mercenary, but the writing that always gets done is the writing that comes with a check. And the bigger the check, the more work I put into it. Boy. It stinks to see that in writing, but it is the truth.

And, while we are on the topic of... no, we are not on the topic, but allow me to rant...squirrels, have I mentioned that I am much less fond of them now that I am trying to entice songbirds into hangin out at our house? Melanie does not like the idea of giving the bird feeder a crown of razor wire, but I am warming to it. My grandmother was the opposite. She fed the squirrels and complained about the birds getting into the squirrel food. It must have been a lingering old-world nostalgia for the plague or a notion that mammals are better than birds, which they are, but mammals that carry plague and don't sing are useless mammals in my book. Yes, they are cute, in the way that rats are cute, but enough is enough. Rodents is rodents.

Bring on the cat. We feed the thing, don't we? Isn't it part of the contract? We feed the cat, it rids the place of all rodentia.

Hmmmmmm.

It's '68 all over again!

Ah, the fun begins. Remember to encourage all of your Democrat friends to go to the convention to "make sure that the voice of change is being heard by the party elites!"

Sausages!

My food posts get more response than my art posts. Perhaps I ought to keep my art writing to the famous food paintings of Wayne Thiebaud, although he doesn't exactly make you hungry for them. I see his cakes and I think more of those very cook storage tanks that used to all be in pastel colors at the oil refinery. I have often thought that I would like to go over and paint those tanks, but I can't seem to find a vantage point that I can spend some time at.

-Uh, boss, we got a guy here drawing detailed pictures of the tanks. Should we book him?

Anyway, in normal form, biscuits and gravy (a sausage related post, certainly), has attracted some interest, along with the suggestion that I sample the stuffed casings found in Pennsylvania. The Quaker State, of course, has a great reputation for pork products, and it has been years since I have been there. The last time I was there I was canoing the border with New Jersey, and I don't think I ate any sausages. Of course we brought a picnic lunch and ate dinner back in Summit, so I don't think I really ate anything from Pennsylvania that trip.

Making sausage is fun, and I highly recommend it, even if you are in an area with great sausage to be found.

And art...

I am working on a little reflection on the diagonal line in Diebenkorn. Come back for the fun. It might just be a Friday Afternoon Sermon!

Eat a Whale for the Earth!

No, I am not suddenly advocating a reduced carbon footprint, but I am, of course, pro-whaling, and if this convince anyone that eating whale is a good thing, then, well, I could tolerate the carbon hogwash.

I have yet to eat whale, but it is certainly on my list. I suspect that it tastes a bit like manatee, which I have eaten.