The Urban Refugee

As I’ve mentioned previously, we have a dog. The concept of owning a dog is new to me as I’ve always been an aleurophile through and through. I can’t say I ever really wanted a dog, but my wife felt that having a one might be a good idea out here on the acreage. So now we have a dog.

The mutt’s name is Hercules and I’d be hard pressed to tell you what breed he is. We know he’s got some black lab in him and perhaps a bit of retriever, but we’re not sure what else. Jen calls him a ‘Heinz 57′, meaning a little of everything. He’s not a large dog and not a small dog. I guess I’d have to describe his size as just right.

We met Herc nearly a year ago when we were still living in Edmonton. The lady next door to us, Trish, ran a foster home for the animal rescue society and Hercules wound up as one of her charges. One weekend Trish had to go out of town and she asked my wife to feed the animals for her. Herc had just come out of an abusive situation and was a bit tense around people he didn’t know, like my wife. Their first meeting scared the heck out of her. Once Hercules had figured out that Jen was okay, they got along famously. I remember Jen saying to me, ‘he’d be a great dog to have if we lived in the country.’ But we didn’t live in the country and that was the end of it. Herc was adopted out shortly thereafter.

Along came May of this year and I was laid off from my job. By June we had decided that city life was no longer for us and plans to move back to the country were afoot. It was at this point that Jen started talking about getting a dog for the farm, and we regretted that Herc was no longer available. We felt that having a dog who barked when strangers came into the yard would be a good thing.

Then a strange thing happened.

The girl who had adopted Hercules could no longer keep him. Trish asked if we were still interested in adopting Herc, and we said we were. Thus it was that I found myself piloting a U-Haul truck down the highway with a cat in the back, a bucket of goldfish on the floor, and Hercules himself riding shotgun.

We’ve been out here a few months now and the dog is starting to mellow out. He no longer crouches down and tries to make himself invisible whenever someone picks up a stick. He’s definitely becoming more friendly and playful, and he’s acting less ferocious to guests who visit our yard, although he still barks his fool head off whenever a vehicle drives in. He’s also exhibiting a few interesting quirks.

Hercules has two tail wagging modes. The first is the exuberant but polite and traditional tail wag that goes back and forth. The second mode is more frantic and is Herc speak for “ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyimgladyourehere!” This isn’t a wag per se, but a high speed propeller-like clockwise rotation of the tail with simultaneous back and forth wagging of the rear hips. (Interestingly, his tail never rotates counter-clockwise.) The second mode is also accompanied by quick leaps where Herc likes to jump up and kiss the hands of whoever he is excited about.

It’s safe to say that the dog is growing on me, even if he doesn’t purr. I just wish he’d learn to stay away from skunks.

This is probably the best write-up I have ever seen on colour profiles, device profiles, and the Adobe RGB colour space. It’s worth reading.

In other news, Microsoft has a new colour control panel available for Windows XP, so now you can put your newfound knowledge from the previous article to work.

A man’s car stalled on a country road one morning. When the man got out to fix it, a cow came along and stopped beside him. “Your trouble is probably in the carburetor,” said the cow.

Startled, the man jumped back and ran down the road until he met a farmer. The amazed man told the farmer his story.

“Was it a large red cow with a brown spot over the right eye?” asked the farmer. “Yes, yes,” the man replied.

“Oh! I wouldn’t listen to Bessie,” said the farmer. “She doesn’t know a thing about cars.”

A farmer and his brand new bride were riding home from the chapel in a wagon pulled by a team of horses, when the older horse stumbled.

The farmer said, “That’s once.”

A little further along, the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer said, “That’s twice.”

After a little, while the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer didn’t say anything, but reached under the seat, pulled out a shotgun and shot the horse.

His brand new bride yelled, telling him, “That was an awful thing to do.”

The farmer said, “That’s once.”

The success of any self-publishing venture is more closely tied to the author’s marketing efforts and his/her connections than it is to the quality of the published material itself.

We’re coming to the end of zucchini season, I think. In plain English this means that I’m disposing of giant zucchinis as quickly as my mother-in-law shows up with them.

Spicy roasted zucchini

Take a monster zucchini, peel it, slice it in half lengthwise, and scoop out the seeds. Now cut each half in half again, lengthwise, of course, and then start chopping those into small chunks about one inch wide. Put them into a large aluminum bowl and add four tablespoons of olive oil, and a teaspoon of seasoning salt and a quarter teaspoon of paprika. Toss them in the bowl until all the zucchini chunks are evenly coated with the oil and spices. Spread them on a cookie sheets have been sprayed with non-stick cooking spray (forget this and you’ll be sorry). Bake in an oven at 375 degrees Farenheit for one hour, serve, and garnish with sesame seeds.

Stuffed baked zucchni

Start a few handfuls spaghetti noodles cooking in hot water. While you’re waiting for the noodles to cook, whack a monster zucchini in half. Peel one of the halves and set the other one aside for consumption at some later point. Take the peeled half and cut it in half again, lengthwise, and then scoop out the seeds. Set aside for the moment.

When your noodles are cooked, drain them and run cool water over them for a moment, and start your oven preheating to 425 degrees Farenheit. Let them sit and dry for a couple of minutes, but not for so long that they congeal into an enormous lump. Mix them with a bit of mayo, some diced up celery, diced up red pepper, and a can of albacore tuna. Retrieve your peeled zucchini halves and pack as much of the noodle mixture as you can into each half. Sprinkle bread crumbs and fresh grated parmesan cheese on top of the noodles in each zucchini half. Put them into a large lasagna dish or roasting pan with a half cup of water in the bottom. If the dish you use is not covered, put foil over the top and seal it.

Bake for 50 minutes. At the end of the fifty minutes remove the foil or lid from the baking container to allow the food product to brown on top. At one hour remove from the oven, and serve.

Zucchini at the drive-thru

My wife and mother-in-law went into town to visit Granny last week. Granny is still recovering from cancer surgery and needs all the lovin’ she can get right now. With Faye in town, it didn’t look like my father-in-law was going to get a hot meal (so far as I can tell his idea of ‘cooking’ as of late involves toast or a bowl of cereal) and it was up to me to provide dinner. That was cool, I had zucchini to dispose of.

I stuffed four pieces of zucchini with rotini mixed with cream of mushroom soup, peppers, some tuna, and baked them in the oven. I also baked some potato wedges that had been tossed in olive oil and lemon pepper seasoning, and poured them onto a cookie sheet to be baked alongside the zucchini.

It was raining fairly heavily when the women showed up and Faye wanted to head straight home before the roads became impassable because of the mud. Jen and I packed a couple of zucchini halves and some ‘taters into a carrying container and sent them home with Faye. Then we realized that this was probably the first time in the sixty years that Faye had lived in the area that there was takeout food in her neighborhood.

Addendum

The zucchini seeds make great skunk bait. Put them in a dish in the yard late at night and then you can use a .22 to pick the little bastards off.

If you have a cat, make sure he/she gets the water you poured off the tuna. Remember, this is a creature that has teeth, claws, and a tendancy to roam the house while you’re asleep. In this case sharing equals survival.

Found in this week’s Consort Enterprise:

“R.C.M.P. report: highway accident kills pigs.”

I wonder how many officers they lost?

My father-in-law kept stopping in the field last night. When I asked him what the matter was, he said that the straw was so tough that it was getting caught on the way through the combine and plugging it up. I suddenly had a mental picture of him trying to wrestle a giant Ex-lax pill into the combine’s pickup to help clear the blockage.

pol·a·ri·zer
n.

Mentioning your preference for Canon camera equipment during a conversation with Nikon enthusiasts.

depth of field
n.

The distance you need to travel back into a field to find the lens cap you dropped.