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The recent wintery mess that has taken a serious grip upon NE IA has reminded me of how powerful, how awesome Creation is. How Literally WILD it is.
*Don't worry, I'm going somewhere with this:
Enter Discovery Channel. It's easily one of my favorite things to watch. And recently they have brought back what I think will forever be one of the most educational, entertaining, and important series ever created: Planet Earth. Someday I'll spend 3 or 4 blog entries explaining my opinions on the value behind Planet Earth, but not tonight.
I'm focusing on a different DC series: Yep. You better believe it. Man vs. Wild starring Bear Grylls. The show requires a bit of a stretch of the imagination. Put a man and a camera crew out in the rawest, wildest places on Creation with only a canteen, army knife, a bit of flint and the clothes on his back to show you the wondrous thrills of survival and the incredibly daunting obstacles an individual would face if truly "lost" in each episode's scenarios. Traversing through environments from jungles to desserts, to mountains and vast plains....all the while on foot/make shift rafts/canoes...
As a person who loves adventure, I think back to my childhood growing up involved with the Boyscouts of America program. (laugh laugh laugh--- certainly some oddities about the program but it was good father-son time etc.) It certainly fed my appetite for outdoor education, nature identification, survival techniques and community service. I'll admit I'm no Eagle Scout, but I've spent enough time in wilderness locations and grew up around some really intelligent Nature/Creation Experts, and over my life have absorbed much of what I've observed and heard them speak about.
So while the guy knows vast more about nature's mysterious wonders of the world, On my home turf (aka the Upper Midwest) I think I could take on Bear's tv challenges..
Fire. Food. Shelter. Done...maybe I'll take a hiatus for a few days and drop myself into the Northwoods of Wisconsin this summer or trek Michigan's UP.
More than likely I'll just keep watching DC's M vs. W and live vicariously. But then again: I'm all for Vacations.
I like fish. Catching them. Watching them. Cleaning them. Cooking and Eating them.
I think it's the texture...I'm big into texture in my food. And a large influence on texture is temperature. Even subtle temperature differences completely change the texture of certain foods.
Segue: SUSHI.
More specifically sashimi. It's soft. cool. smoothe. And depending on the cut and/or fish--- meaty, firm, light, or chewy. I won't use the term "rubbery" with sashimi---contradictory connotation to my infatuation with this dish.
Okay. So here's a website I like to just go watch and browse..and dream of someday buying and using their products.
http://www.honolulufish.com/index.php
P.S. I've totally considered making up a false business/restaurant name and using my home address to ship to....
Okay, just one more post....I really can't resist:
The Great Thing: Virtually no-one is up at this time of day/night.....which means these stars and this gigantic sky, these millions of snowflakes falling silently to the ground, these hidden secrets of the world are mine, and perhaps MINE alone.
The Sad Thing: Virtually no-one is up at this time of day/night.....which means these stars and this gigantic sky, these millions of snowflakes falling silently to the ground, these hidden secrets of the world are mine, and perhaps MINE alone.Virtually no-one is up at this time of day/night....
It's a Dramatically Ironic Beauty. Someone, somewhere, some way is absorbing this too....
Reference: Hebrews 11:1....
I get the warm fuzzies when I think about this for long, deep periods of time:
I am becoming a better cook, and better person every passing day.
:o)
THAT, is a good note to end this day upon.
Tonight as I opened the front door when I got home from work, my dog was waiting at the top steps. She lifted her head and wagged her tail as I greeted her, just anticipating the scratch between the ears she knew she'd get. Gracie is approximately 10 years old (you can do the Dog year conversion if you choose...I don't really believe in that)--but her actual age is somewhat of a mystery to our entire family. No one can quite remember when we got her, let alone how old she was when we did (she's a pound puppy).
In her younger years Gracie was a playful little thing. She would scamper around the house weaving in and out of table legs and under coffee tables, pausing at the sliding glass door in the back to survey and assess the ongoings of the backyard and gardens before trotting to the front living room windows to do the same. Come the snowy months she loved going outside and leaping through the snow when it was chest high on her.
Now a days she's quite lazy, spoiled, and far less active. During the winter months she typically lays around most of the day. She has a couple preferential locations for sprawling, atop the foot of my parents' bed, and the top steps of both our front and back door. Translation: Gaurd Dog! In the right habitat (which is 95% of the time) Gracie is about as carefree as you can get. The other 5% she deems to "maintaining her territory"...pacing the fence line to her yard, and "protecting" family members when encountering other doggies or people on walks. She lives the "Good Life" getting treats from my mom as she pleases, constantly perfecting her "look at my big brown eyes mommy" look. As a result from her spoiling, she will follow my mom EVERYWHERE in the house now, ignoring commands anyone else gives her--it's almost disgusting. On sunny days she'll migrate from sunny spot to sunny spot throughout the day. She still likes walks in the spring, and especially laying around in her yard during the fall months chasing leaves and getting in 2 or 3 excellent doggy dreams in an afternoon.
Anyways. As I approached the top step her wagging intensified, as I reached down to scratch her between the ears she bolted down the steps between my legs! The mail and car keys in my right hand went flying into the air, my bag slid off my left shoulder and proceeded to crash down the half flight of stairs like a slinky hitting every single possible step---my poor lap top and new Christmas books inside--and I ended up in a heap where she had just been...my coat now covered in her hair (she sheds year round).
Gracie never even looked back to admire her wake of desctruction, envelopes and my magazine subscriptions strewn about. Nope. She was far too busy chowing down on the treat my mom had pulled from her coat pocket.
And then I realized one of my wildest fears was real. My mom brings doggy treats to work with her.
A long Sunday morning of slow business.... equivocates to a bored cook.
Thusly:
The remainder of the afternoon will consist of a football game on silent, a book, Minnesota Public Radio and a plop on the couch in the sunny spot....
and Slippers.
It's a New Year.
I can't get over how weird it is to write '09 or 2009....
Habbits can be so hard to break. Perhaps this is why New Year's Resolutions can be such a pain in the ass to formulate. They force us to acknowledge our individual shortcomings and imperfections.
Luckily for me, I'm perfect and don't need to make any this year...
Bahaha. Perhaps I'll dissect some of my Resolutions in the next few posts...
