Meeting my culinary match…

Man does not live by bread alone, but apparently not by mac & cheese either. I let the photo opportunity slip by because the batch in question went down the disposal faster than I could grab my camera. Ellen and Reid will surely understand.


March 10, 2014

Ellen/Reid: My TV habits are becoming all too predictable. I’m Tivo-ing all the shows that have redfish associated in the promo teasers. Most of the shows feature good old boys who latch onto 20-30 pounders down Louisiana way or eastward toward Pensacola, FL. It just looks inordinately fun. I’ve gotta do this somewhere in the Carolinas. It’s not like I’d wearing jeans and a straw hat fishing for bass. This would be the real thing. I’ll keep you posted.

I’ve finally met a meal that was more than my culinary match. A batch of mac & cheese was so bad it didn’t rate a score on a 1-to-10 scale. The noodles were undercooked and tough, there wasn’t nearly enough cheese and it was dry as toast. I must’ve skimped on cream and/or milk. It’s the hot, bubbly liquid that does the trick and there just wasn’t enough of it. Perhaps I should stick to the ACTUAL recipe a little more often rather than winging it. Skimping works sometimes but when things head south, they head south in a hurry.

On that score, I’ll head toward our mountains in a few weeks to fish some waters said to hold nice trout. An acquaintance who I meet during my early morning Saturday/Sunday trash walks, Fritz the former district court judge, invited me along and it sounds like a worthwhile trip. Good to get away from the golf course for once. These guys are like Tim; they tie all their own flies. I’ll use the store-bought variety.  We’ll see what I catch (and release). As Tim says, bad karma to keep a fish. There won’t be the same measure of concern in Wyoming. We’ll keep a few for the fire.

We endured about 36 straight hours of rain last week. Thank God there are enough trees out back; I could’ve fashioned an ark if push came to shove. Man, when it rains, it pours. I think Emma would find the little stream of interest. I’d be glad to take her down to see what’s swimming or slithering around or growing along the banks. Aside from the deer that browse out there, I saw a possum slowly making its way in daylight a few days back. Probably not a slickest move for easy prey given the coyotes that are known to frequent the neighborhood.

Reid, I’ve downloaded Google Music so am headed in the direction suggested by you. I’ve gotta head to Best Buy to get some gadget that allows me to play from my iPhone to speakers. I may pick your brain further about how to set up such functionality.

True to my word, I did buy a device to upgrade my non-existent music system. Now, I just have to figure out how to use the darn thing.

True to my word, I did buy a device to upgrade my non-existent music system. Now, I just have to figure out how to use the darn thing.

And Ellen, the same goes with the Chrome thingie you guys got me. Some golf friends were excoriating me this weekend about how easy it is and how utterly lame it is to avoid not doing so by sticking my head in the sand. Your old man is the original late adopter. I’ve been dialing up a lot of Coldplay, The Ride and R&B lately and that’s sort of spurring me a little bit.

No more pushing my cart or carrying my clubs twice on the weekend. It’s just killing my right hip which was throbbing this morning as it has the last couple of months. I wish someone in my Golf for One group would step up and take over the organizer duties so I could take a weekend off now and again (see first paragraph on redfish). But they are my friends and without them I’d have virtually no daytime social life at all. There may be something better coming along and I’ll keep you up to speed on those developments, too. Man does not live by golf alone. At least not every weekend.

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Filed under Writing to adult children

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