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Jul. 10th, 2008 09:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
merrycaepaQ: What does one do when the fridge shows a distinct lack of good food bases (ie peanut butter but not bread?)
A: Gourmet Raman!
(Think I'm joking? 'Cause I'm not)
No, really. It was quite cool; I made chicken-flavored Raman with egg, bokchoy, snow peas, onion, bell pepper, and fresh sage, oregano, basil, and thyme. Oh! And garlic powder, but that was added in the midst of my first bowl, when it had been determined that it really needed a good kick. I think there was more added vegetable than noodle, and that next time I might just skip the Raman and cook vegetables in chicken stock.
Speaking as someone who can barely fry an egg (but man, can I scramble those suckers), this was quite the triumph.
Q: What does one do whereupon the crisper holds in residence two large bags of distinctly sour, unfit-for-human-consumption grapes? (Hint: it involves a slingshot)
A: Target practice!
This requires some explanation. The house backs up to a good-sized wooded ravine, inhabited by the neighbor's dog, scores of ticks, and commando squirrels (by which I don't mean that they go au natural, because obviously they do, but in that these little suckers earned the green beret and went rogue, dammit). Said squirrels have chewed the wheels off the grill, decimated dozens of flowerpots (not the flower, mind you; they eat the pots) and are presently in the process of chewing around the support posts of the deck. Make no mistake, the little rodents have sekrit plan to exterminate human life. I can feel it.
What I'm saying is, they have it coming.
And also that slingshots are, as it turns out, not too hard to aim once you get the hang of it. The tricky part is to not squish the grape in the sling, because then it will disintegrate in midair and not impact the target (in this case, a handy walnut tree). We're nowhere near good enough to go after live targets yet, but that walnut tree took quite a pounding.
Mom came home when Dad and I were about ten minutes into training for our murderous little spree. She watched for a minute, bemused, and then said, "What if we tried freezing the grapes?"
...
Tonight's gonna be fun.
ETA: PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
I would like to take a moment to draw a connection between seasonal allergies and the futility of the abstinence-only movement.
At present, I am having severe difficulties utilizing my sinus cavities, which are presently behaving in a mutinous manner (that is, imitating a faucet). I kind of want to rip them out of my head and stomp on them. This is because I have severe seasonal allergies. This is due to the fact that trees are having sex on every available surface at this very moment. They have been at it for about a week, and show no sign of stopping anytime soon.
Bear in mind that these trees have never had a sex-ed class in their leafy little lives. No one ever showed them a condom and a banana. Unless the neighbors have been modifying the term "tree-hugging" to something less associated reduce/reuse/recycle, these trees have never seen a condom. And yet they are having Olympic-level tree orgies. It wasn't sex-ed that induced them into this. It was their own uncontrolled natural impulses. Slutty, slutty trees.
(I'm not saying that a good sex-ed class would prevent these trees from having sex. But it's possible, if however unlikely, that a good two-week unit on the reproductive system might at least lead these trees to have safe sex, thus drastically dropping the number of seedlings I'd have to uproot next year. Safe treesex --> fewer new trees --> less allergens --> less allergies --> happier people.)
A: Gourmet Raman!
(Think I'm joking? 'Cause I'm not)
No, really. It was quite cool; I made chicken-flavored Raman with egg, bokchoy, snow peas, onion, bell pepper, and fresh sage, oregano, basil, and thyme. Oh! And garlic powder, but that was added in the midst of my first bowl, when it had been determined that it really needed a good kick. I think there was more added vegetable than noodle, and that next time I might just skip the Raman and cook vegetables in chicken stock.
Speaking as someone who can barely fry an egg (but man, can I scramble those suckers), this was quite the triumph.
Q: What does one do whereupon the crisper holds in residence two large bags of distinctly sour, unfit-for-human-consumption grapes? (Hint: it involves a slingshot)
A: Target practice!
This requires some explanation. The house backs up to a good-sized wooded ravine, inhabited by the neighbor's dog, scores of ticks, and commando squirrels (by which I don't mean that they go au natural, because obviously they do, but in that these little suckers earned the green beret and went rogue, dammit). Said squirrels have chewed the wheels off the grill, decimated dozens of flowerpots (not the flower, mind you; they eat the pots) and are presently in the process of chewing around the support posts of the deck. Make no mistake, the little rodents have sekrit plan to exterminate human life. I can feel it.
What I'm saying is, they have it coming.
And also that slingshots are, as it turns out, not too hard to aim once you get the hang of it. The tricky part is to not squish the grape in the sling, because then it will disintegrate in midair and not impact the target (in this case, a handy walnut tree). We're nowhere near good enough to go after live targets yet, but that walnut tree took quite a pounding.
Mom came home when Dad and I were about ten minutes into training for our murderous little spree. She watched for a minute, bemused, and then said, "What if we tried freezing the grapes?"
...
Tonight's gonna be fun.
ETA: PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
I would like to take a moment to draw a connection between seasonal allergies and the futility of the abstinence-only movement.
At present, I am having severe difficulties utilizing my sinus cavities, which are presently behaving in a mutinous manner (that is, imitating a faucet). I kind of want to rip them out of my head and stomp on them. This is because I have severe seasonal allergies. This is due to the fact that trees are having sex on every available surface at this very moment. They have been at it for about a week, and show no sign of stopping anytime soon.
Bear in mind that these trees have never had a sex-ed class in their leafy little lives. No one ever showed them a condom and a banana. Unless the neighbors have been modifying the term "tree-hugging" to something less associated reduce/reuse/recycle, these trees have never seen a condom. And yet they are having Olympic-level tree orgies. It wasn't sex-ed that induced them into this. It was their own uncontrolled natural impulses. Slutty, slutty trees.
(I'm not saying that a good sex-ed class would prevent these trees from having sex. But it's possible, if however unlikely, that a good two-week unit on the reproductive system might at least lead these trees to have safe sex, thus drastically dropping the number of seedlings I'd have to uproot next year. Safe treesex --> fewer new trees --> less allergens --> less allergies --> happier people.)
Just wanted to say
Date: 2008-08-03 08:07 am (UTC)