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A place to keep my entries for various contests and challenges |
| This book is not only a place to create, keep, and store contest entries, it's also a log of items that may one day become something more. |
Written for "Invalid Item"  , prompt: Cook Something Bold and Pungent - not to be confused with above.What is bold and pungent cooking? It could be many things and one of the first to come to mind is a good chili, another is red beans and rice. Many oriental dishes are also bold and pungent. In fact, in almost any cuisine, there are bold and pungent dishes. Many of these I find delightful, a few I have tried weren't quite as appetizing the first time around, but the more I indulged, the more the tastes grew on me. There have been some that I found disagreeable with the first bite and even after trying them a second or third time, I knew I would never develop a taste for them. Of course, there have been a few that with the first bite, I knew I would never put something that disgusting into my mouth again! One such food was a kidney. I had gotten one with a side of beef and researched how to prepare it. Some friends had informed me that kidney, when prepared correctly, was very satisfying. They gave me a recipe and it matched what I had found online, so I set about preparing and cooking the organ so it would be ready when they arrived for dinner. Shortly after it started cooking, the kitchen was filled with a pungent odor. Not a pleasant odor, but that of urine! By the time my friends arrived, the whole house smelled of urine, but they assured me this was normal and the taste would be very good. Soon, dinner was ready and my friend carved the meat while I set out the side dishes. Both he and his wife dug right in and enjoyed the meal, but the first taste I had of the sliced kidney was much like it smelled, like a mouth full of urine. I choked it down, but could not force another bite of the foul-tasting and oderous meat. Luckily, there was plenty of food, and my wife and I filled up on side dishes as they ate over half of the meat. Even with all the wonderful side dishes, it was difficult to enjoy the meal with the urine smell in the house. We sent lots of leftovers home with them, including the kidney. They couldn't understand why we didn't like it and chalked it up to being an acquired taste. I don't think so, I just don't like the taste of urine. But, it definately fits the prompt of a bold and pungent food! A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Written for "Invalid Item" prompt: National Hug a Bear Day - Unfortunately (fortunately?), most bears are hibernating Why would anyone want to hug a bear? Maybe a Teddy Bear, but not the bears we have here in northern Minnesota. If I remember correctly, these bears often refer to campers in sleeping bags as burritos. On our recent camping adventure, they had reinforced lids on the dumpsters with an iron rod locked over them to keep the bears out. Unfortunately, this didn't stop the bears, they just bent the lids up like opening a can of sardines. Also, bears, or at least the kind we have here, are not the best-smelling critters to be around. They are full of ticks, fleas, and who knows what other parasites; no, I don't want to hug them and will pass on this. However, they can be fun to watch. One time my son and I had to stop for a bear on a gravel road. It had ambled out of the woods and onto the road and stopped. We were in a Toyota Corolla, so there were only two choices, back up or sit and wait for it to move. We stopped and waited. After a few minutes of waiting, the bear decided we were no threat and took a dump in the middle of the road, then went back to the woods and vanished. An important question was answered that day, "Does a bear s*** in the woods?" "No, it comes out on the road!" But, at least it didn't chase us like the buffalo in Custer State Park, but that's for another day. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Written for "Invalid Item" ; Not written to any of the prompts. I looked through the prompts for November 6, but nothing seemed to stir up any ideas. I asked Halo, my muse, what to write about and she asked what the prompts were. After reading them to her, she copped an attitude, muttered something about National Muse Day, and stormed off to wherever disgruntled muses go. It's been kind of tough getting entries written in time for "Invalid Item" NaBloPoMo challenge. There have been unexpected road trips, Not the fun kind, and I've been dealing with a nasal infection that has me tired and unmotivated to do much of anything, but even worse, my wifi turns off and I've lost entries and items because of it. I thought I had it fixed, but it still acts up once in a while.Now, I'm actually writing on time but can't think of anything to write. I should read through other entries and at least click on like, but it would be better to leave some comments. However, I still have to get caught up with my email and am having trouble finding time for that. Maybe it's because of the end of Daylight Savings Time! We did lose an hour, and that hour would have been enough to read a few entries, a few emails, and write a few comments. Yeah, that's what the problem is; or at least, that's my excuse. I don't know if I'll be able to catch up, but once I find where they put that hour, I should be able to at least stay current. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Prompt: Daylight Saving Day - You have an extra hour for this one. I have twenty minutes left to get my entry in on time! How can this be? Where's my extra hour? Daylight savings time has always been my pet peeve, well one of them. How can changing the clock give an extra hour of daylight? The sun rises, the sun sets, and as the seasons progress, the ratio of day to night grows longer and shorter, but no matter what we do with the clock, it doesn't change; we don't gain nor lose an hour. It's like a blanket that's a foot too short, so should we cut twelve inches off the top and sew it to the bottom so it will cover our feet? There's also the jet-lag effect of changing the clock. It takes but a minute to jump ahead, or if it's digital, perhaps it changes itself. But my body takes months to adjust to the time change in the spring. In fact, I don't fully adjust to it at all, but at least in the fall when we set the clocks back I quickly fall into rhythm again. All in all, I see no point in it and feel we should do without it completely. I also read a lot of research that shows it's a waste of time and detrimental. But, some people like the clocks set ahead and an hour more in the evenings. I'm a morning person and that hour of daylight in the mornings. So who should get the hour of daylight, morning people or evening people? I have a simple solution, split the difference and set the clocks ahead one half-hour, and then leave them alone. Call it median time or something, but for the sake of everyone's sanity, change them and then knock off this jumping back and forth. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Prompt: National Easy-Bake Oven Day - Remember those? What did you bake in one? I never had an Easy Bake Oven growing up, if I wanted to bake something it was in the big oven, and not until I was old enough to read the cookbook and clean up my mess. Most of the time it was sugar cookies from my mom's Betty Crocker Cookbook, but once in a while I'd get brave and try something a bit more challenging. One of my favorite recipes was tarts, and another was pudding. My younger brother didn't like Pistachio, so I'd make vanilla pudding and add green food coloring so he would eat any. It may likely be all that green food coloring that has left me a bit eccentric in my later years. But, the prompt is for Easy Bake Ovens, which, if you didn't know, I didn't have growing up. However, I did get one for my daughter while she was growing up. It came unassembled, so I had to try to put all the parts together, which wasn't very difficult once I referenced the directions. One part was missing, however. It did not come with a light bulb that served as the heat source. I don't remember but think it was supposed to be a 60-watt, but it was Christmas Day and nothing local was open. I didn't want to drive an hour looking for a light bulb, and she was a bit impatient to mix up one of the packaged delights we had purchased with it, so I looked around and ended up using the light from above my workbench. The problem was the bulb was a bit bigger than it recommended; it was 150-watt! No problem, I thought, just reduce the baking time. Not so. She happily mixed up a mini-batch of brownies and put them in to bake. I figured we would check them at about half the recommended time, but before the timer went off a fire erupted from the little oven. I unplugged the contraption, grabbed it with oven mitts, and threw it outside in the snow. It soon went out, but the entire time my daughter was crying. After I brought it back in, I discovered the batter had bubbled over and burned all over the inside, so I had to take it all apart, clean up the carbonized mess, and put it back together. I also had to drive for over an hour to find a store that was open and buy the proper light bulb for it. By the time I returned, I had missed Christmas dinner, but she was happy and ready to use her new oven and didn't even seem to mind the burned paint and scorched interior. She also felt bad that I had missed dinner, so she offered to bake me a Christmas dinner. I accepted, sat back in my chair, and left her to her creation. Little did I know she was going to try and bake me a frozen pizza in the little thing. She had cut, folded, and packed it into a little pan, baked it for about five minutes, and served me with a smile. Some of it was still frozen, some was doughy, and it was all terrible, but for the sake of a little girl on Christmas, I choked it down, complimented, and thanked her. She was so delighted she made me seconds... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| A free-write entry for "Invalid Item" It's day four of the challenge and here I am, writing for day three! On day two, I ended up writing for day one as well as for day two. It's looking like, if this dang-blasted device continues to work, I'll be doing the same today. I know the challenge is to write a blog entry a day, so I hope my playing ketchup catch-up is not out of bounds and going to get me all jammed up with Andre. In a way, this entry is written for him to explain my inconsistency; I mean, after all, I'm not purposefully trying to be naughty. It's like this: My laptop has had some kind of weird Voo-Doo hex laid upon it. It frequently and consistently disconnects from the wifi. Not only does it turn the Wi-Fi card off, but it also removes the ability for me to turn it back on. I have to restart, go to troubleshooting, and have even had to reinstall Windows to get it back. I did some tweaking and updating based on some online information that is supposed to correct this, and so far I've been hassle/trouble-free for over an hour. Let's hope. There was also an unexpected road trip tossed into the mess, which burned up over six hours of drive-time, and a few more visiting my son since I was in his area. Finally, I have a sinus infection (likely from the same Voo-Doo curse placed on my pc) that has been keeping me from sleeping much. But, I have that medicated now and hope that one of these first nights I'll sleep instead of cough when I lie down. Four days into November and my entries have been a bit inconsistent, but at least, I'm being consistent with my inconsistency... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| National Stress Awareness Day This prompt seems fitting for my day yesterday; I know, I'm catching up because I wasn't home yesterday... We had to drive to St. Cloud over a hearing aid matter which I wrote about in "Perpetual Ruminations" so I'm not going to write about it here. Also, I wrote my first entry second, so you can read that in my previous entry and understand some of the stress.National Stress Awareness Day was fitting for the misdirections, the circle jerks (turn-a-bouts), and the rest of the day, including meeting traffic while driving on a divided highway. Also, we had just gotten a couple of inches of wet snow and fifty percent of the populace don't remember how to drive on slippery roads. Of course, it started with a visit to the clinic for a head cold, which is always stressful, then the three-hour drive, Google giving us wrong directions, someone sitting at a dead stop on an overpass (we avoided rear-ending them and also managed to swerve in front of the car trying to pass us on the shoulder without more than a few inches between vehicles on both sides; my wife was white as a ghost) and I forgot to bring coffee, so was at the mercy of gas-station-swill. Yep, all the ingredients for stress, and I was more than aware of it. But, after all the stress and confusion, we stopped by and had a nice visit with my son, his wife, and two grandchildren. I finally got some coffee that wouldn't remove paint, enjoyed the surprise we gave our granddaughter, and had a nice dinner and visit with them. We left a bit later than we had intended, but that worked out, there was little traffic and the drive home was pleasant and relaxing. I guess when National Stress Awareness Day ends, so do the stressful events. Maybe they shouldn't have a day for stress, I think life provides plenty without it... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Look for Circles Day - Tell us some that you've seen where you live Not where I live, but yesterday while in the greater St. Cloud area we had to maneuver several circles placed at key areas of the highways. Although they are named turn-a-bouts, I prefer to call them circle jerks. Yes, it's easy to see by my terminology that I don't like the confounded things. I understand they are designed to keep traffic flowing smoothly, and when used as designed, they do. Unfortunately, few people seem to know how to drive, and when they get on a circle jerk, they are in the wrong lane, switching lanes inside the circle, or even coming to a complete stop because they aren't sure which exit to take. There is nothing, well not much, more frustrating than to enter a circle jerk only to have to lay on the brakes for someone who is stopped with the blinker on, looking to see if they can turn! Yesterday we came to the first circle jerk. Not knowing which road we needed, we had Google Maps directing us and wouldn't you know, the damned thing sent us back the way we had come! I found a place to turn around and tried again, watching for our road. Traffic was heavy so my wife was watching for our exit from the circle, but by the time she told me to turn, it was too late. No problem, we'll circle around again. Second loop through we approached our exit, but it was blocked by an eighteen-wheeler who did not have room to make the turn. So around we go another time. Again, we did not have the opportunity to turn, but the truck was moving, so one more time. Three times around and I was feeling a bit dizzy, but the road was clear and I was ready to exit and get the hell off this thing. but right when I started to turn, some jerk (hence the term circle jerk) cut me off and I had to swerve so he could take our exit. I took the next just to get the hell off the circle. I went a half block and pulled into a parking lot to look for another route to get to the clinic. As it turned out, we were in the rear parking area for the clinic we wanted. Had I made the turn I was directed to take, I would have come to yet another circle jerk that would have aimed us at yet another, which in turn had an exit that led us to the front parking lot. Not only was the road littered with circle jerks but they were designed to take us in a big circle to get back to where we wanted to be in the first place! Leaving was much easier, I put the Yukon in four-wheel-drive and exited through a mowed hayfield, avoiding the whole conglomeration of circle jerks. As I drove over the curb, I heard someone yelling, "That's not a road, you jerk!" I fought and won over the desire to circle back around and make it a circle jerk. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| I just read a suggestion for a skunk merit badge and this is what stars running amuck in my head: Many years back in a county far far away, a friend of mine went for a walk in the deep north woods. He was good at walking in the woods, but this day a heavy fog moved in, and he lost his way. He wandered for hours and it was starting to get dark, so in a panic, he started yelling and running. Luckily, he saw light in the distance. He continued yelling and running, now towards the light. But, just as soon as the light showed up, it was gone again. In despair, he dropped to the ground and as he fell, brushed something hairy! He couldn't stop his descent and landed hard on some kind of animal that bit into his thigh before scurrying off into the underbrush. Bruised, bleeding, and beaten, he just lay there listening to his heart thumping. But then he heard another sound, a rumbling in the distance. "Oh great! Just what I need, a storm!" But it wasn't thunder, it was a very loud pickup truck and it was getting closer. He got up and stumbled in the darkness and soon saw lights coming closer. He was at the edge of the woods and near a road. To keep the story short, he was picked up and brought to the hospital, had a few stitches, and was able to go home. Everything was fine at first, but by the end of the month, he was feeling strange. He began to like the smell of garbage and sometimes found himself outside at night, buck-naked, eating out of garbage cans. He was ashamed and didn't say anything at first, but as it continued to get worse, he returned to the hospital thinking maybe he had rabies. The night he went was also a full moon, and just as he arrived, something happened that few will believe. He fell to his hands and knees and began to transform. His arms became covered in black fur, his eyes turned black and he had a snout instead of a mouth. A crowd gathered around as he continued to change. Within minutes, my friend was gone. In his place was some kind of cross between a man and a skunk; he was a wereskunk! He snarled at the crowd and spun around, his tattered and torn clothing falling off. His tail came up and a ghastly spray shot out and covered everyone with skunk spray, then he bolted for the woods and has never been seen again. Some folks say that on a full moon, he can still be seen out at the landfill eating trash... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Shortly after I graduated in 1978, I made a trip to South Dakota to stay with my grandmother for the summer. I had gotten a fancy camera for my birthday, and while staying at my grandmother's, would often go driving in the country and take photographs of old, abandoned houses. On one photography trip, I stopped to take pictures of an old farm. It wasn't abandoned, but the style of the house, the old tractor in the yard, and the old car parked by the porch seemed like a look backward in time. I had taken a couple of pictures when a young woman came out the front door and stood on the porch, holding a baby in her arms. "Can I help you?" I explained why I was there and taking pictures of her home, then apologized and turned to go back to my car. "It's alright. Go ahead and take your pictures. But, if you wouldn't mind, could you take one of me and my son, and maybe mail it to us?" "Sure, I can do that." She stepped off the porch and stood under an ancient maple tree. I took a couple of pictures to ensure one would be perfect to send to her. After, she offered me a glass of lemonade in a green-colored, heavy glass while I waited on the porch for her to write down her address. We talked for a bit, then she said she had to get dinner started. She insisted I take the glass of lemonade with me. Later, after I had the film developed, I picked the best of the two pictures I had taken and mailed it to her. I never thought more about it until I returned home that fall. I was greeted by my mother, "You're home! Did you have a nice time at grandma's?" "I did, and I took a bunch of pictures around the countryside with the camera you got me." I set my bags down, opened one, and took out the green glass and a folder containing all my photographs. My mother had picked up the glass and was staring distantly at it, "Where did you get this?" I explained the story, found the picture, and showed her. I couldn't understand why she looked like she had seen a ghost. "Are you alright, mom?" She blinked as she escaped the trance that held her, then went to her bedroom. She returned a few minutes later with a photo album she put on the table, then asked me, "Would you help me get a box down, please?" "Uh, sure." I didn't understand what was going on. I followed her to the pantry where she pointed to an old shoe box on the top shelf. I used the step stool to reach it and handed it down to her. She carried it to the table, set it down next to the photo album, and looked at me. "I think you should sit down. In fact, we both should." I sat down and looked at her, puzzled. She was sitting now and opened the box. She took out three big glasses wrapped in old newspaper and unwrapped them. They matched the green glass the lady on the farm had given me! Next, she flipped through the photo album, found a picture, and removed it from its sleeve. She looked at it for a moment, then handed it to me. I almost fell off my chair, it was the same picture of the lady on the farm, holding the baby. But this photograph was old and yellowed around the edges. "A young man took this picture of me and you, a few months after you were born. I gave him some lemonade and let him keep the glass in exchange for mailing me this picture." I couldn't move; I could barely breathe! After sitting there stunned for a minute or two, I dug through the folder and found the other picture I had taken of the woman and the baby. It was the same photograph! The same house, the same lady in the same clothes holding the same baby -- me! A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
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Man, you know nothing about monkey business! Never poke your nose in them.
