Charge Of The Light Brigade

Two weeks ago, I left you sitting on the front porch at eleven celebrating the completion of another days' coffee cycle. So coffee is an hour per day. Last week, I admitted that by that time, I had also completed the first of my two 90 minute naps for the day. The next activity that hits my daily schedule is charging things?

When I was working, about once a year, I would have to get the booster cables out and charge my car, someone's else car, a motorcycle, a snowmobile. I carried a work cell phone so I had a charger for that at work, and one at home. A cordless bit driver? That's about it. It hardly ever crossed my mind. Part of the reason was I avoided cordless tools. I was never happy with their lifespan? Contractors got around that problem by having multiple chargers and spare batteries. A whole suitcase full. It was the first thing that come off the truck. And please don't get me started about the evolution from NiCad to Metal-Hydrid to Lithium-Ion to whatever is coming next (tabless?). And just ignore me if I go off on how every manufacturer had their own batteries which would not work in anyone else's tool. It held that industry up for three decades. I must admit that the batteries are better these days. They should be, they cost a fortune. More than the tool itself these days. A high end (Milwaukee or DeWalt) electric drill with a couple of chargers and spare batteries might be a five hundred dollar spend. Homeowners without a Maserati in the garage are forced to hump it with one charger and one battery. So, let's go once around the house see what I am dealing with these days:

There are magnetically attached strip lights under my kitchen counters and in my closets that have to be taken down periodically, plugged in and charged. My toothbrush, two dog clippers, one dog trimmer, two Mitchie trimmers and the keyboard I am typing this on. My mouse, my jigsaw, two sanders, a skill saw, an impact driver, three electric drills (all different batteries, thank you very much) and a sawzall. The front doorbell, a drone, two laptops, two iPads, two phones and a battery pack. At any one time, something I need right away will be deader than disco. The search then begins for the matching charger, the required cord and a receptacle somewhere on my property to plug it in. Then the long wait begins. Invariably something has to be unplugged to make room. That is the gift that pays off later, because whatever I unplugged, will be the exact device I desperately need the next time out. I have (so far) avoided having to plug in my car or my lawnmower, but I count 31 devices right now in my house that periodically needs a wall plug! So, twenty or thirty minutes per day, looking for chargers, looking for cords, looking for batteries and looking for someplace to plug stuff in. Recap: An hour a day for coffee, Three hours per day on naps. Half an hour for for charging shit. Busy Busy!

Meatballs

So how hard can it be to make meatballs? Hamburger, spices, bread crumbs? But after all these years, the ones you might get at Aberfoyle Mill or Angels Diner are better than mine. I finally broke down, did some research and conglomerated the best authentic meatball recipes I could find. Two things stood out. They were all a mix of pork and beef? Instead of breadcrumbs, fresh bread was scooped out of a Italian loaf and mixed with milk to make a slurry. Mmm? I diced the onion so fine that not even SWMBO could detect they were in there. I followed the recipe exactly instead of winging it as I would normally do; and to be honest ... voila! Home run. She even said "What did you do? You are a cooking god? Well, those were not her exact wods, but close. This recipe made about 29 meatballs. I froze 24 and simply pull three or four out of the freezer at the same time I am pulling frozen spaghetti sauce. Both go into the crockpot. Magic!

Our Optimum Week

As if I needed an excuse to eat Chapman's ice cream? They have followed Mr. Carney's lead, and have stopped sourcing any ingredients from the U.S. Going forward, fruits and nuts that go into their ice cream will be sourced from Italy. They say they are never going back. If they end up charging an extra dollar, I'm a customer. No list this week. Back to normal next week. there is a Moredays events so grab as many of those as you can.

We Are Watching

Art Detectives on Britbox - The premise is a bit of a stretch, but two likeable leads in a show that combines Digging for Britian with the normal litany of murderous skullduggery. Six episode first season. Four stars.

NHL Playoffs on Sportsnet - Leafs were out on New Year's Eve. Senators are out. I might have been tempted to root for Pittsburg, they are out. Edmonton is out. Looks like Colorado is going to dominate. We will pull for the winner of the Buffalo / Habbies series. I think our hockey season will be over before my tomato plants go in (which is as it should be).

Formula One on TSN - For those that don't follow it, Trump's foray into Iran forced the cancellation of two races in the Middle East. I think they are making a mistake in that, the first race back, they are pouring billions into Florida's economy. I think I might have said: "We need a couple of make-up weekends. Sorry Miami. Sorry Vegas." It'll never happen. F1 is just about as complicit with evil regimes as the PGA. (see next article)

We Are Not Watching

PGA Tour Golf on anything! - The Saudi funded LIV golf tour is about to fold. The greedy bastard millionaire golfers who took money from those journalist murdering terrorists that run Saudi Arabia will now come crawling back. I shouldn't be surprised? A lot of golfers that I have had problems with over the years, were the ones who held their nose and ignored everything that is wrong with state sponsored murder. If I happened to be a multi-millionaire, I don't know if I could have turned down this kind of money. We will never know. But for these guys, we know they can be bought. And we know the price:
Patrick Reed - 50 million
Phil Mickelson - 200 million
Dustin Johnson - 125 million
Bryson DeChambeau - 125 million
Sergio Garcia - 47 million
Put another supercar in the garage boys.

...and finally

I read somewhere that Duck's Unlimited paying farmers to preserve wetlands is the only reason we still have any significant duck populations in Canada. I don't know if that is true or not, but certainly every subdivision from Belleville to Windsor is sitting on what was formerly ... wildlife habitat. Muskrat, beaver, fox, bear, frogs, ducks, deer, squirrel, raccoons, skunks, porcupine, woodchucks, chipmunks, mink, geese, swans, herons, terns and about a million bugs used to live right where you are sitting. Right this very moment. When you hear some soccer mom bleating about conservation while eating a chicken finger, remind her of that for me? So here in Canada, we are left with game fishing, deer and moose hunting to funnel billions into the rural portions of our resource rich country and keep some habitat for those species that we have not already displaced. Over in Africa, it's a bit harder. The boys can't simply grab some steaks, some beers, jump into a Winnebago and pump money into the African economy. Customers for those junkets are "loaded" and spend millions for that one trophy. Ernie Dosio, a 75-year-old millionaire who owned California vineyards was just that sort of tourist. Apparently, a nice guy, totally committed to the conservation of African wildlife habitat. He was hunting yellow-backed duiker which quite honestly looks like a cross between a deer and a pig? I'd shoot one just for looking so stupid?

Apparently, what happens though, is the full-grown dominant males grow a pair. No not those. Horns. A truly magnificent beast, suitable for the trophy wall of any self-respecting billionaire who likes that sort of thing.

So on the west coast of Africa, is the small country of Gabon. A former French colony. It is mostly wild sub-saharan bush with a large portion of it's land reserved for conservation. Ernie and his guide are heavily armed but accidentally walk into a little copse occupied by five full grown female elephants harbouring one newborn baby. Bad idea. The girls freaked and results for Ernie and his guide were, shall we say ... greasy? Of course, the Internet loved it. "I hope they can get that stain off the forest floor". "I hope those poor elephants didn't hurt their feet". That sort of thing. So instead of a hundred grand for a licensed, sanctioned hunt, supporting the local economy, our theoretical soccer mom can pray that the local villagers go back to killing the few thousand of these that are left, for meat. Then they can sell the horns for some herbalist to grind up into a boner inducing powder for third world consumers. We here in the west ... can take solace that some billionaire got what was coming to him.

Mitch & Maddie
p.s. - I ordered a little cordless vacuum for the car.