The Cookie Monster

My wife and I have discovered a new holiday past time. We are baking! We’re making Christmas cookies, short bread, date nut bread, Toll House cookies, we threw in a batch of cream puffs (first set didn’t come out too well, but the second did), and there are still a few more recipes waiting to poke their heads out and make their presence known!

Our first foray into Christmas baking was sugar cookies. You know the ones; we all made them when we were kids. What I didn’t have any concept of as a kid was the time involved to attack this particular recipe. My mother has much more patience than I ever imagined, because she did this with three of us little ones “helping” her. It took my wife and I three hours to make three dozen cookies. Granted, they are a masterpiece in their own rite, but it was a time consuming task. Not only do you need to have your “mis en place” properly executed (if you’re not sure about mis en place, please enroll in Cooking 101 at the Cooking Joynt), but you also need to realize the time needed to roll out dough, chill it, cut the cookies, re-form the left over pieces, re roll and re cut. Don’t forget too that there is icing to be made (2 types), and properly colored. Needles to say we were beat at the end of this one, but we had three dozen marvelous cookies. Had is a key word in that sentence.

Success with these cookies gave us confidence to move onward. I have the 1953 Better Homes and Gardens Cook Book, which graced our kitchen for years, and am moving through it making stuff from the past. Short bread and cream puffs. Cream puffs were a special treat that Mom would make for our neighborhood New Years Eve Party, and when very special company was coming over. Now I know why, it can be a fairly tricky recipe. Our first attempt resulted in some fairly flat cream puffs; they sadly looked more like cream blats. Second try, faithfully following the directions was a success.

Right now the aroma of date nut bread is wafting out of the kitchen, our first winter storm is moving in, and we are getting ready to watch White Christmas. We’ve started a new tradition of our own and in the process we are also reliving Christmas traditions of the past.

Joynt Venture

After umpteen years of working in both restaurant and hotel kitchens, going to school and getting a Culinary Arts Certificate, a Bachelors Degree in Hotel and Restaurant Management, and just completing an MBA, I have decided to take the bold step.

Launching October 19, is the Cooking Joynt, a cooking school, with classes taught by yours truly, and my partner in crime. It’s time to take our years of experience and pass them on. I love cooking, I love food, and I want to show others how simple and enjoyable it can be to make an incredible meal.

We are going to focus on meals that you can go home and do as soon as class is over. It will be as easy as putting together your grocery list, going to any supermarket for supplies, and following the recipe to re-create what you have learned in class.

Classes will be a blast, some instruction, hands on work, and then we all sit down and eat the results, no matter what they are!  What we are going to do is show you how to make some great dishes, and have fun at the same time.

Dining is many things to many people; it can be a social event, a romantic evening, a day in the backyard with the grill, or a quick and healthy meal on the run.

Classes will cover a variety of menu’s and subjects. We will cover basics such as slicing and dicing, how to flip an egg, to more advanced cookery.  We’re going to cover desserts, appetizers, Holiday dishes, soups and stocks, and many other aspects.

For more information and a class schedule,  you can send an email to

ScottsdaleChef

@
Gmail.com,

make sure you put this all on one line though, it’s the only way I can get it in here!

Please watch for the upcoming website.

Bon Appétit!

You Can Get there....From Here....

 Picture this if you can. I know a place where there is no Starbucks, McDonalds, Olive Garden, Circle K, Barnes and Noble, Jiffy Lube, AMC Theatres or Safeway. However there is a Café Milagro, Docksider, Lighthouse Inn and Restaurant, Pine Tree Market, McVay’s Service Station, Sherman’s Books and Criterion Movie Theatre (a 1930’s Art Deco movie theatre still in operation). There are towns with names like Blue Hill, Winter Harbor, Hulls Cove, Seal Harbor, Searsport, Belfast, Northeast Harbor and Sommesville.

Where is this you may ask? Well, if I told you, everyone would want to go there, and then it would be like every place else! There is still a world out there of small towns, places where neighbors know each other, where most of the businesses are owned by people who live in that town. There are local papers that report the news that is happening right there, and, though it may seem a bit morbid, the obituaries are real stories about real people who become genuine when you read about their lives.



Add some natural beauty to this starting with the Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes calm and flat as a mill pond, other times gentle swells. And it can change, quickly, very quickly. Forces unseen and miles away can bring about quick and sudden changes. Then there is the shoreline, mostly rugged and rocky, at some places the forest marches right to the coastline, and at some places there are flats and beaches.



Then there are the forests; forests so thick you can barley walk through them. Forests with Oak trees, Maple, Ash, Hickory, Hawthorne, Chestnut, Poplar, Willow and Pine Trees. Don’t forget the apple orchards, where there is fresh pressed cider this time of year.



And of course, food! That one wasn’t going to get away. There is nothing in the world that can hold it’s own against steamed clams and fresh lobster with drawn butter. That’s it, the entire meal. Maybe some sweet corn, and possibly a small dish of maple/walnut ice cream to finish it off. A meal that is impossible to get anywhere else other than this particular spot in the universe.



To top it off there are friends of old. The best kind, the ones that care for you no matter what, and take you back in again like the family that you really may be.



Where is this place? For now it is resting in my memory, but I know how to get back there.

The Bean

Coffee




It goes by many different names, java, joe, juice, mud, brew, battery acid and sometimes by it’s real name, coffee. It’s origins, like some of its brews, are muddy. It seems that it has been around since at least the 13th Century. Interestingly it was first used for the “energizing” effect it had on people. If you’ve been to a Starbucks you would see that this is true, it seems the baristas (people who make coffee), generally partake too much of their product.



Not the point though, and neither is Starbucks. I’ve done a lot of experimenting with coffee over the years. Strangely enough I didn’t begin drinking coffee till I was well into my thirties. Prior to that I thought that coffee was some type of legal but toxic substance. Some of that may have been due to the fact that one time I drank so much, with so little sleep that I honestly thought I was going to have some type of coronary event, and it didn’t seem like it was going to be on the positive side of life. Along with the shakes and sweats I was pretty sure coffee wasn’t for me, so it was with some trepidation that I picked it up again later.



Instant coffee in a Styrofoam cup isn’t a great start on becoming a connoisseur of the bean. A little known fact about coffee is that you can make instant coffee with hot tap water in a styro cup….I don’t know why anyone would do that though. I’ve done it, so you don’t have to.



There is a coffee that a friend of mine introduced me to one time when we were camping on the beach in San Carlos, Mexico. Combate! What a name, how can you argue with a coffee whose name literally translates to Combat. That is what coffee is all about. Toss a few spoonfuls, plus a few more in a percolator, put it next to the fire and let it go. You can’t over perk Combate, the longer you go the stronger it gets. This stuff lets you walk on water when you’ve had a few cups in the morning. I don’t know if it’s legal in the U.S. yet, but I’m looking for it.

Suggested Reading

Lost Dutchman Reading List




If anyone is interested in further reading on the Lost Dutchman these are all very good books. I’ve read them all and they are great reads





The Killer Mountains Curt Gentry

Coronado’s Children J. Frank Dobie

Quest for the Dutchman’s Gold Robert Sikorsky

The Curse of The Dutchman’s Gold Helen Corbin

The Lure of the Dutchman Thomas A. Gelderman

The Lost Dutchman Mine Sims Ely

Thunder God’s Gold Barry Storm



The Killer Mountains is a fun, great book. The last two, The Lost Dutchman Mine by Sims Ely and Thunder God’s Gold by Barry Storm may be difficult to read.

Legends Live On

Date Line Scottsdale Arizona


Thursday, July 22, 2010

14:00 hrs



Three hikers are still missing in the Superstition Mountains, outside of Apache Junction, Arizona. The hikers were last seen Sunday, July 11, when they headed into the Superstition Mountains in search of the Lost Dutchman Gold Mine. Temperatures in Arizona were hovering around 114 degrees at the time they went into the mountains. A few days ago the sheriff departments of Pima and Maricopa County called off the search. At this point there is still no news on the missing men.


The Lost Dutchman has been luring people to the rugged Superstition Mountains since it was first reportedly mined in the 1870’s. Jacob Waltz, (the Dutchman) and Jacob Weiser were the only two men ever to really find the mine and take gold from it.



Waltz’s’ connection to the mine came about in the classic manner of old west tales. Waltz and his partner Weiser were in old Mexico, the town of Arizpe on a festival day. In the corner of a cantina a spirited gambling game was in progress. Waltz realized after watching a few minutes that it was far out of his league, so he and Weiser were ready to head out. Before they could leave, an argument broke out between the gamblers, and out came the knives. Intervening by cracking the dealer over the head with his gun, Waltz and Weiser dragged the other man out to safety.



Don Miguel Peralta was the man they saved that day, the man who at that time owned and mined the Lost Dutchman. Over the years the Peralta family had worked the mine adding greatly to the family’s wealth. Sadly, Apache’s had killed both his father and brother while working the mine in the aptly named Massacre Canyon.



While working the mine that last time, the mining party became aware that they were being surrounded by Apache’s, who considered the Superstition Mountains sacred, home of the Thunder Gods. Trying to make a safe exit they were pursued by the Indians, with nearly the entire party being massacred. Even into the late 1950’s people hiking in Massacre Canyon would from time to time find small bits of bridles, horseshoes, and other reminders of that fateful day. Peralta was one of the survivors, but he no longer had the nerve or desire to work the mine, but, in gratitude to Waltz and his partner he would supply them with a map, and finance them, and in that quick transaction, a legend was born.



Over the years the legend of the Lost Dutchman Gold Mine has lured many into the mountains, with more than a handful never to return. Today the Superstitions can be clearly seen from million dollar homes, private country clubs and air-conditioned malls. A short drive of ten miles will take you to some of the most rugged, difficult and frightening terrain in the world, and the mountains still have the  power to draw people in.

Hit The Road

I got them ol’ traveling blues once again. That’s because I just got back from a quick camping trip, close to the fabled Number 9. Number 9 is an epic in itself, but that story can’t be told for some time yet, the guilty need to be protected.


Summer gets that tavelin’ jones fired up. It makes me want to get going, somewhere, anywhere. I’m pretty open to going to just about any location to check it out, except Gary, Indiana (sorry if there are any Gary fans out there, but I’ve been there and there is no reason to go back).

Adding to my wanderlust was a recent re-reading of “Travels with Charley,” by Steinbeck. It’s a remarkable book and a great story. After reading it, the desire is to grab your dog, hop in your truck and do a back road tour of the country. There is a lot to explore out there, many mysteries lie along the open road, legends, meals, meteor shows, jack-elopes, live summer music, surf, waves, campfires, coffee and s’mores.

When I was younger I made a few cross country trips, even driving from Arizona to Maine (and I was able to find it without a GPS). I bought back a lobster trap from Beal’s Lobster Pound in Southwest Harbor, Maine. For years it graced various apartment living rooms as my coffee table. Now it has a place of honor in the backyard as part of my outdoor BBQ kitchen.

On another cross country trip camping somewhere in Minnesota with friend of many years (41 years to date Bob), we were attacked by a family of skunks, that I presume were crazed about something. It may have been a full moon, rabies or just bad joss, I don’t know but we didn’t question a thing, they charged up a wooded hill en mass, and we bolted for the tent. This is a true, verifiable story.

My wife and I have had wonderful trips, both here in Arizona and out of state, even a few trips to Mexico, when Rocky Point didn’t have condo’s or golf courses and was safe. We’d get fresh fish cocktails for dinner, potato burritos for breakfast on the beach.

We’ve camped in wonderful places, stayed in great hotels. On an expedition to Hawaii, I proposed to my wife on the beach at Waikiki, and the rest as they say is happy history. This year we’re going to hit both the Pacific and Atlantic!



Happy Trails to All!

The Heat is On

“And it was summertime

Sweet summertime, summertime”



It is summertime, it made it once again. Summer is a great season wherever you spend it. In the northeast, Midwest, southwest deserts, in big cities, small towns, it doesn’t matter. Summer is not only a season, it’s a special way of life for a few months.



It brings back memories, of camping trips, vacations, Boy Scouts, summer camp, traveling, working in Maine, working in Montana, being in downtown Chicago for the 4th of July, camping on a beach in Mexico, trips to Hawaii, Utah, Michigan, Wisconsin, California, Oregon. Weddings we’ve been to, a wedding proposal, a first date, meteor showers, concerts, lazy days, and days at the beach, spending time with friends and making new ones.



One of the greatest Rock n’ Roll songs ever done reminds me of the summer of ’69. It’s the one that starts out with the cow bells and drums, Honky Tonk Woman and the Stones always takes me back to the Lions Club Pool, in Homewood Illinois. I think we spent the entire summer there, day swims, home for lunch, and then back for the evening swims. Biking it back and forth. Schwinn Stingray biking it at that, on a blue machine with ape hangers, banana seat, and five speeds. Bryan Adams had his band in the summer of ’69, we had hurling ourselves off the high dive all summer. Who knows what that means. You couldn’t pay me to get on a high dive now, but I could do a cannonball and jackknife with the best of them then.



I still love the summer. In Phoenix summer is a different type of beast, but there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s light at 4:30 in the morning, and already heating up. We don’t get the late, late evenings like Maine, Michigan and Oregon, where it is still light at 9:00 at night, and that’s a shame, because that is really cool. We do get great monsoon storms later in the summer, which have tremendous cloud build ups, gusting winds and torrential rains. We also get days on end of over 100, over 105, and sometimes over 110. Yes it’s a dry heat, but as they say, so is a convection oven. It’s hot, that’s all there is to it.



One of the great advantages of the summer heat is turning off the water heater, and still having hot water. You can also leave a cup of coffee in your vehicle in the morning, and when you leave to go home in the afternoon its’ hotter than it was 8 hours ago! Now that can’t be done just anywhere you know.



So it’s time to turn down the volume some, relax, read, take more naps and plan some travels. “Cause its summertime, sweet summertime.

Surfs Up

I’ve been noticing the past few years that there is a plethora of people wearing, and I gag when I say this, Hawaiian Shirts. This is for the uninitiated and uninformed. Let’s get this straight from the start, they are not Hawaiian Shirts, they are Aloha shirts. That’s part of the deal dudes and dudettes; you got to get the lingo right if you’re going to live the life! I mean, if you’re really want to be Coola phonic, going to hang 5, cruise in your bitchin’ Woody with your bunny, and hang out with the Big Kahuna you got to get it down.

So dudes and dudettes, here’s the lowdown on the greatest fashion in the world.

First, and this is cardinal. NEVER (in caps for a reason) tuck in your Aloha shirt. That is akin to wearing white socks with your sandals…c’mon dudes.

Second, Aloha shirts should not have creases in them; it defeats the entire aura of wearing them. If you’re going to be wearing an Aloha shirt with a crease in it you miss the whole point!

Third and this one could be open for discussion if you were writing this blog, but you’re not, the pen is mighty Third is material. Rayon is king; it is the material of the shirt. Silk is number two, and cotton, well, if it’s going to be cotton you ain’t hit the groove yet.

Fourth, the type of prints used on your shirt. This is a hard one to explain, and it is where the laid back dudes are separated from the suits. Prints are intuitive, you either got it or you don’t. Unlike many things this can’t be taught. A few definite no go’s are shirts with Tabasco bottles on them, shirts with square and boxes on them (get it? Squares?), and shirts with NASCAR cars on them, sorry dudes, they just don’t’ cut it.

You should also know a few things if you’re wearing an Aloha shirt. You should be able to hum some Alfred Alpaka tunes, know where the Aloha Shirt Museum is, know some of the history of the shirt, and obviously know some Jimmy Buffet songs by heart. It helps too if you can strum a uke, and wear Roy Orbison Ray Bans.

I hope this helps, remember, Aloha is a state of mind.

Fact, not Fiction

In spite of a graduate level corporate finance class, I’m still retaining bits and pieces of my mind. Not many and it’s taking me more time to get them firing than in the past, but thankfully I sense that there is still cognitive functioning taking place.


Recently I have come to some proven facts and conclusions. Just the other night I was able to verify that there is a difference between malt and a shake. I always thought that it was true, but after having a shake last night, as opposed to malt, I can say yes.

Malts are made with the same basic ingredients as a shake, but it is the addition of malt powder that makes them what they are. Malt powder is a creation of it’s own which was developed by Horliks, of Chicago (yes, my city of origin, which is also home to Bozo the Clown, Garfield Goose and other cultural icons), in the 1920’s. Its original intent was to influence young children to drink more milk!

Here is another fact that I have been able to verify, the best way to play “Knockin’ on Heavens Door” is on a Fender Telecaster. No argument, no reservation, no hesitation, and as Tex Earnhardt, a Phoenix cultural icon of the past used to say, “No Bull”. Why someone like Avril Lavigne (I have no idea who she is) would try to do a version of this song is beyond me.

Another morsel, Orange Julius’ does still exist! This was another creation of the 1920’s, from California. However, the modern version of the drink is sans raw egg….because consuming raw eggs may lead to sickness, insanity, or compulsive laundry washing.

I do have a lot of food facts, I’ve made a living from food my entire life, except for a brief period in the ‘80’s when I sorted peridot. Lobsters do not scream when you put them in a pot, I know, I’ve done it to hundreds of them. KFC doesn’t raise special chickens with no feet or beaks – where in the world did that one come from? Blue food is very unpopular, check it out, when was the last time you ate something blue?

Strawberries are nearly impossible to cut when they have been frozen inside Baked Alaska, and it will embarrass the Maître d, who will then throw a knife at you. If you’re almost all the way home the night before Thanksgiving, and suddenly remember that you forgot to cook off all of the pumpkin pies for the next day, you better grab a six, or twelve pack, head back to work and start baking. Chances are you’ll meet the AM Sous Chef on his way in as you are on your way out.

This one is a classic that I proved myself. Riding lawnmowers will bounce at least twice off the freeway. I forgot that I did have a short lived landscaping career after graduating from high school.

Once I finish this finance class I’m starting the book….stay tuned.

Thank You Ronald Reagan

It may seem hard to believe that Presidential acts really do flow down to everyday citizens. It may be even harder to believe that the tearing down of the Berlin Wall has had a profound impact on my life, but it has.

Thanks to Ronald Reagan and his crushing of the Soviet Onion (yes Bob, that one is for you!); I can now get the best haircut in the world, for $19 plus a tip. It’s true, the best haircut in the world.

Reagan gets the thanks because now, there are real Russian Barbers in the United States that can give a man an honest to God haircut. Time was that didn’t happen here. I tried strip mall hair stores (the fast food version of haircuts), Salons…not to be confused with saloons, of which I have also tried a few in the past. I’ve tried friends, co-workers, shops that have been recommended. For a while I even considered doing it myself. As a matter of fact I gave up haircuts in the ‘70’s, but that may be a different story.

What has made it so frustrating is my hair doesn’t require a lot of work, or styling, or treatments, or conditioners, or fluffing and spraying and blowing. It merely needs to be cut. I figure with the amount of hair I have, 15 minutes ought to take care of it all.

I was on my way to giving up hope, until a friend of mine recommended the Russian Barber Shop. It sounded like a great plan, so off I went. Without an appointment, or booking, or reservation. As the song say, walk right in, sit right down….

It doesn’t start out with a shampoo and massage. You sit in the chair, tell them what you want, and they go to town. They either carry on a conversation with you or not, depending on your wants and desires.

I was in last week and mentioned that I had a headache, and immediately was offered some aspirin and a cold bottle of water! Man…or as Emeril would say , BAM!

What a start. Then you sit back and relax. There are some different TV’s on, sports, movies, news (yes Fox News). Or you can join in the conversations, there are always a few interesting subjects being covered. Or, close your eyes and relax.

The best part of it all is when they near the end. First it’s the trimming of the eyebrows. Then, now we’re getting to the point of it all, a hot lather trim, with a straight razor. This is when you know the cold war has been one. Sitting in a chair, relaxed, hot shaving cream on your face, and a Russian poised over you with a freshly bladed straight razor.

Still there’s more. Once the trim is over, there is the piece de resistance, the hot towel on the face. It comes out of a nuclear oven, and it’s just steaming. The barber drapes it on your face, rubbing your forehead and neck, and then lets it just sit, the heat just making your face unwind. There is nothing like it in the known world. Nothing. I say again, nothing.

And this is a truly international ordeal, because once the hot towel treatment is over, the handheld, stainless steel (probably German), Swedish Massager. This thing could vibrate the dead back to life. Over the shoulders, around the base of the neck, the scapula. And finally, some skin bracer to bring you back to life.

This is what a haircut should be. Thank you Mr. Reagan!

Sailing.........

“If the wind is right you can sail away, and find serenity”




And fortunately that was something I was able to do this week with three friends, spend the day on Lake Pleasant, sailing. Sailing is a fascination, and hobby that came on me by surprise. It certainly wasn’t something that I grew up thinking about, or having any aspirations about. As a matter of fact, it came on quick, and has never left.

I was working in Maine for the summer, and on a day off we decided to try a sailing trip. Her name was “The Blakcjack,” a restored 33foot Friendship Sloop, sailing out of Northeast Harbor, Maine. One of the nice things about the boat is she is made of wood, and her sails are real canvas. The trip was an hour and a half sail around the bay, and like I said, I had never really thought at all about sailing previously.

We got on board, if I remember right there is a max of 6 passengers plus the captain and one other crew member. I remember looking around some thinking this is kind of cool, I hope we don’t sink or tip over or something like that, fairly normal thoughts for me when doing something new that I know absolutely nothing about.

Anyhow, the captain started up the engine (diesel) and we pulled away from the dock and headed out of the harbor. As soon as we got clear of the harbor and into the channel they raised the sail and cut the engine. The wind snapped the sail, filling it, the boat heeled a bit catching the wind, and we were sailing. I swear that as soon as it happened I felt something click inside of me, and the thought hit me, this is what I want to do. And I’ve been pursuing it ever since.

Luckily I’ve been able to do some sailing over the years, and we currently own a MacGregor 26D. It’s a hobby that never ends, and I can have nearly as much fun working on the boat as sailing.

Sailing is just right. Wind, water, sun, friends, some skill, some luck, some work and a lot of relaxation. What a gift, and it’s one that I’m always happy to share with others.

Through a window

Tomorrow being the beginning of a new month also brings a few things to mind. One is I’ve seen the geese flying again. Last fall they were passing through for the winter, and now they are again passing us by, but headed for home. I love watching them. Reminds me of reading Farley Mowatt. I first read him as a kid, “Owls in the Family,” was the first one I read. He’s got some great books out there. Definitely worth taking the time to check into and read.

I’ve been reading some interesting stories lately. Most recently I’ve delved into Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the world of Sherlock Holmes. Besides being great stories to read, one of the things I enjoy about reading authors like Doyle, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Bram Stroker, etc., is they are a real step into the past. Just think, the writing that you are reading is an actual link to the late 1800’s. The worlds they describe around the stories are just as real as the one we live in now. Customs, language, habits, descriptions of cities, it’s all real, and it’s still all there! Authentic time travel is at our fingertips.

There was a time in the late 70’s when I was living in Cave Creek, and working as a line cook in a restaurant. At that point in time I had no car, no phone, no TV. I walked to work and hitched rides as I needed them, used the phone at work if I really wanted to talk to someone, listened to a lot of music and read.

Reading is a blast. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch with my mother, with her pointing out words and me slowly learning them. I don’t know how old I was, but Mom had me reading at a very young age. That’s just one of the gifts she gave me, and it has never left. I’ve never thanked her enough for that, and I do now.

It’s only natural that those of us who read a lot, think we can write. Now that is where a blog can step in. Actually, I’m so far behind the technology curve there may be something more up to date than a blog already, I don’t know. But for the time being I’ll keep rambling here.

It’s good to be back, and another Finance class starts tomorrow night.

A Brief Respite

See, I didn’t disappear in the storm. I have however, disappeared into a finance class. In hindsight, waiting to take the two most difficult classes for my degree, followed by doing a thesis may not have been the best way to approach this entire matter. What the heck though, the end is in sight! I think that I may hang up a shingle, call myself a “life coach” and charge people $200 bucks an hour and simply tell them not to make the same mistakes I have. It’s easy telling people what they ought to do.




I just got back from band practice, (not to be confused with choir practice, for those of you who are Joseph Wambaugh fans). Years ago when I lived in Cave Creek we did have choir practice. Those who know what it is, know what it is, and those who don’t, don’t. But, I digress.



So the band, if it can be called that, and I think it can, there’s a drummer, a bass player, and me, the guitar player, meets with irregular regularity. None of us are giving up our day jobs, yet. Getting together and playing is a great way to spend an evening. We don’t have anything special done yet, but we jam, try to play some songs we know, and have fun.



So that’s a quick update. Tomorrow I delve back into the world of finance class, and a final project. Just weeks ago I didn’t have any idea what WACC is(Weighted Average Cost of Capitol, for those who really want to know), and tomorrow I’m going to start looking for it. How’s that for progress?



When this class is over, I’ll be able to say, just like Jimi Hendrix did,

I just came back today,

I just came back from the storm…………

Riding the Storm Out

Last nights storm was a storm to remember. I was going out to get dinner for us, and a section of the fence, and one of the large palo verde trees at the end of the driveway was down. There aren’t many things that I like better than hammering a fence together in the wind, cold rain, and thunder, it brings out the patience in my personality! Just ask my wife, she’ll verify that.


We moved our vehicles around so that I could get to work in the morning, parking one at the neighbors, and backing my truck up against the fence to help hold the patch job. After that we settled in to a nice cozy fire and movie. Being attuned to weather as well as I am, I took a few looks around the back to make sure everything was still there. One look out in the driveway showed that a second palo verde tree had fallen victim to the winds. Pruning at its best.

At one point around 9:00pm or so, the wind was screaming, rain was torrential, and there was a tornado warning about 5 miles northeast of us. It was a great night to be cuddled with my wife and Hobie.

Riders on the Storm

This has been quite a day for us weather wise. A storm working its way through the southwest is just getting bigger, stronger, windier and wetter. We’ve been hearing about it coming for a few days now, and it’s here. Right now it’s barely drizzling, but it’s been a steady rain all day. From what was being forecast I was expecting a steady, heavy downpour.


Flagstaff is being shutdown as of 6:00pm tonight, Sky Harbor hasn’t shut down, but any flights leaving for Phoenix can’t take off. Our home, Maricopa County is under a severe weather alert, which includes a tornado warning, flood warnings, high wind warnings with winds of sustained speeds of 40mph, and gusts from 50 – 65 mph.

It’s eerily calm out currently, 5:15pm Thursday evening, and the wind is starting to pick up. We get some hellacious winds here during the monsoons, and it looks like we may be getting them soon

Last night we were watching the 10:00 news, and decided it was a good idea to go out and get some sandbags for the front of our house. I headed out and hit two fire stations before getting to one that had sand, but no bags. So I went over to Safeway (my favorite store), got some bags and headed back. There were a few of us there, and we all ended up helping each other. Heading home I unloaded, and we sandbagged the front door.
Meteorologists are predicting that the heaviest of the storm is still on its way. We’ll see what happens tonight. Later, from Phoenix.

A change of pace

Early morning and it’s damp and cold. Low, dark clouds are drifting in from the northeast, covering up what there was of the morning sun. The cab in my tuck is still cold. No surprise there, cost way too much to replace the heater, so I deal with it.

Turning a corner I see an old man and his dog walking towards me. He’s stooped over, either from the cold or his age, maybe both. A pull down hat on his head, flannel shirt, jeans, boots. His walk is pretty slow, nearly a shuffle as much as a walk. But he is looking around, smiling.

In one of his hands is a leash, walking along with him is his dog. He looks kind of old himself. A small guy, mostly black, long wispy fur, and there are streaks of grey in his coat. Looking closer I can see the tell tale white around his muzzle. His walk is similar to his masters; it looks like it may be a little painful for him. But he’s there with his friend.

Where are these two headed on a morning like this? Is it just the two of them, or is someone waiting at home for them. I wonder how long they’ve known each other. More than a few years would be my guess. What kind of days have they shared over the years? Some laughs, tears, friends that have come and gone.

What kinds of walks have they taken together in the past? I wonder if they’ve strolled country roads, chased the waves at the beach, trekked through snow and rain. Or have they always been on the streets around here. It doesn’t really matter, as long as you are making the trip with a friend.

I smile and drive on my way. I’m glad they passed by me for a moment. When I get home I’ll give Hobie an extra pat and hug, and share some more time with her.

It’s the day after New Year’s Day. We hit a high of 71 today and there’s been a breeze so the mountains are clear, it’s cooling down, the sun is setting, and the Christmas lights are coming on, (we’re the holdouts on taking them down. Prairie Home Companion is on, and I’m settled into my office with some tea. There’s your setting.



We stayed in New Years Eve. It’s not hard to do when you get up for work at 4:00am. There was a point in my life where I would have just stayed up all night and gone for it, but thank God those days are long gone. I think there’s a song in there somewhere, so I need to jot that idea down.

When we were kids my folks used to let us have a New Years Eve party every year. We’d invite our friends on the block; usually there were eight to ten of us. Mom would make Sloppy Joes (no one has ever matched that recipe), and punch. Come to think of it the punch was great too, I think it was orange sherbet and 7-Up, and, she put it in the good punch bowl! We’d have party poppers, noise makers, party hats, confetti and ribbons. It was quite an affair, and it was eagerly anticipated every year. We’d eat, then my Dad would lead us down the block, making noise with our noise makers, banging on pots and pans and shouting Happy New Year! The only real glitch in the system was it was usually around 9:00pm when we celebrated, but what the heck, we were kids and couldn’t stay up late. One year my folks did get us up at midnight to see the New Year in, and from what I recall we made a few grunts and went back to sleep. I feel the same way about it now, truth be told.


The holiday season has been great, Thanksgiving through this weekend. My wife and I love it. We get busy, but it’s good. We spend time with friends, family and each other. Share meals, stories, memories, create some new ones in the process, and make some new friends too. It definitely refreshes my soul, and I’m ready to head into this year with hope, vigor and energy. Look forward to great things this year, and thank the Lord for blessings already on their way.


Happy New Year.