Frog and Goat

She’s A Brickhouse

The pipes here at the homestead have been running a little slowly. We thought something was stuck in the drain of the garage sink, but not so. We opened the cleanout plug outside and water gushed upwards which meant septic tank issues. So, we started digging a hole in the front yard. After some poking around we found the access door to the tank.

This is not something you expect to see when the shovel is flying.
why not a box of money

What everyone should throw into the septic tank hole:
lame

As we rigged up a chain to open the septic tank access door, I said, “I know it’s going to be gross, but I can’t wait to see it”.

After getting the entire tank pumped (and having to dig out the other access door), we learned that the clog is actually at the distribution box. Guess who gets to pay to have a backhoe dig out the front yard?
sweet pumping

No Turkey For Me

The highlights of dinner tomorrow at Chez Frog and Goat:

Marinated Mussels and Roasted Red Bell Peppers served on sourdough crusty bread as an appetizer.

Roast Leg of Veal with Wild Mushroom Sauce and Walnuts as the entree.

Cranberry-Walnut Tart for dessert.

The appetizer and entree recipes are from The Wine Lover’s Cookbook by Sid Goldstein.

The dessert is from Food & Wine 2000.

We closed at noon today but the director let us go at 11. I was waiting in line to buy the mussels at the time I should have been walking out of the building. Always a good sign when the fish monger is busy and lots of customers are the repeat customer variety. And, by repeat customer, I mean they are all so chummy that the customer and counter person are trading suggestions for good reads.

*Updated 11/25 for photos.

Drug of a Nation

Does anyone else think the woman in the Nokia ad who talks about deleting her former boyfriend’s phone number is just a little unhinged?

I have been sucked into the My Fair Brady vortex this afternoon and great googly moogly. I saw the episode where Peter asks ATM to marry him. That’s quite a way to start a marriage. Good luck drama queens.

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The RAAAGE

So, the collection agency called here again looking for the deadbeat who owned this house before us.

I called back and got voice mail as usual and said this was the second time they’ve called. I said I know he’s a deadbeat and we bought the house from him a year ago and we are not friends so quit calling here. After googling, I found the collection company is in Texas which is SHOCKINGLY enough where the deadbeat is. Which they’ve been told twice. And, guess what? I bet if you google him, you’ll find him. Seriously, just because he once lived at this address doesn’t mean he’s still here. Check out house sale records and you’ll see he’s not. Use your mad collection skillz and quit bothering me.

The better-half also called the number. I have to wait what he said/they said. They’d better never call here again. The first call I was helpful. The second call I was pissed. The third call will bring on the nuclear option.

My Evil Plot

When I rule the world, I’m going to take away driver licenses from people who drive big SUVs and can’t keep their mega-mobile in the lane. If it’s too big to control, maybe you shouldn’t drive it.

When I rule the world, I’m going to issue a moratorium on adults who are consumed by cute. After you pass a certain age, you shouldn’t surround yourself with stuffed animals and pillows with cartoon characters. This moratorium does not include spending time watching cartoons just surrounding yourself with that cute crap. Grow up.

When I rule the world, all gnats will have to migrate or die instead of lingering after it gets cold. Out, out damn gnat!

When I rule the world, there will be no complaining about the change of season unless, of course, the season refuses to change. Don’t complain about cold weather, move to the tropics.

What’s your evil plot?

People know the part I’m playin’

I just sent this link to the better-half with the subject line “How to get relatives to stop asking you about computers”. Heh, if he demanded payment like this guy, he’d never get asked about computers. For the record, the better-half is a software developer not Mr. Computer Fix-it.

For the family members reading this (you know who you are), just ignore this post. I’m talking about those relatives we don’t see for months on end and then suddenly need to talk to the better-half because the computer died. You know who I mean.

I had to go to the card store this afternoon to buy cards for the two unit managers at the office. They have back-to-back birthdays next week. Guess what was right across the street from where I parked? The chocolate store. The gravitational pull was so strong that I had to go in there and buy $20 worth of chocolate.

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Like a Ghost Town

The office is so empty that tumbleweeds are blowing down the hallways. I’m serious. No one is here today except a couple of part-timers and me. I feel like I missed a memo or something.

I was warned back in the summer that beginning with Thanksgiving the office becomes an empty shell. We have a generous amount of time off for Winter Break and we have a generous leave policy. People tend to hold their leave until the end of the year when they burn it like kindling.

The only thing for me to do is to turn on the MP3 player and look busy.

But words left unspoken

By popular request (OK, one request). This is the start of the story of why my father isn’t speaking to me. Fast forward to now and I just think he’s mad and needs to be mad at someone and that someone is me.

Here’s a fish marinade the better-half made up. We use this one quite a bit. We use it on grilled tuna mostly.

6 cloves garlic
1/4 cup ginger — freshly ground
1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup sherry
1/4 cup rice wine vinegar
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons sesame oil

Mix all ingredients with a whisk.

Can substitute: powdered ginger for fresh ginger, garlic powder for garlic, vodka & tequila for sherry.

A Long Week

This has been a really long week and I’m tired. To celebrate Friday we’re having a fish gorge. Tuna with a black pepper crust grilled, of course. Shrimp with some of my rocking cocktail sauce. Some sushi–the fishy kind and the veggie kind. A bottle of Pacific Rim Riesling.

Tomorrow we’re off to get haircuts. I’m not sure what else is on tap.

My mother asked me last night if we were joining them for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is one of her favorite holidays. I really like it too. I told her that I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about it this week (what with her mother’s funeral and all). She got that look on her face and quietly said OK. For those of you keeping score at home we’re almost to the 3 year mark of my father acting like a total asshole and not speaking to me. Can you blame me for not wanting to join in on the family holiday meal? Still, it really bothers me about having to tell her no.

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She’s A Brickhouse

All You Need To Do