The AH Coffee Shop and Reading Room 09

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

Please excuse the pot of Starbuck's Breakfast Blend I just fixed for everyone. There was an open bag somebody left in the cabinet with just enough for a full pot. Still overroasted like all their other coffees, but not completely offensive. I turned off the warmer so it doesn't cook to death. Nuke it if it isn't warm enough by the time y'all get to it.
 
Watching the Olympics last night (which have been amazing), just thinking about the level of commitment these athletes have undertaken, then the world stage they ascend, the ultimate moment of competition and the subsequent exhilaration of a win or devastation at a loss, it occurred to me the International Olympic Committee are missing out on what would be an extraordinary event.

One that would demand determined training, stamina, excruciating attention to detail, tremendous teamwork, and would pack the arena, night after night.

Synchronised Orgasms.
 
Watching the Olympics last night (which have been amazing), just thinking about the level of commitment these athletes have undertaken, then the world stage they ascend, the ultimate moment of competition and the subsequent exhilaration of a win or devastation at a loss, it occurred to me the International Olympic Committee are missing out on what would be an extraordinary event.

One that would demand determined training, stamina, excruciating attention to detail, tremendous teamwork, and would pack the arena, night after night.

Synchronised Orgasms.
Trojan Games, anyone?

Gymnastics
Judo
 
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Just to be clear, my S.O.'s mother is entering late-stage dementia. Up to now, she's been able to take care of herself but now she's slipping to the point that we have to switch off being with her during the day to make sure she takes her medicine and eats. We can still leave her alone at night. It is stressing us out but it is much worse for my S.O. I've known her for thirty years and the decline is scary. I can only imagine how my S.O. feels about it...
A time comes when professional care is the best solution for everyone. Depending on the situation, could be at home or in a health facility. My mom is now 96 and by her own choice she lives in a nursing facility.
 
Just to be clear, my S.O.'s mother is entering late-stage dementia. Up to now, she's been able to take care of herself but now she's slipping to the point that we have to switch off being with her during the day to make sure she takes her medicine and eats. We can still leave her alone at night. It is stressing us out but it is much worse for my S.O. I've known her for thirty years and the decline is scary. I can only imagine how my S.O. feels about it...
That’s so sad. I remember having to put my father in a Vet hospital. It’s hard across the board. Best wishes.
 
Thunderstorm, lightening, and the power went out. It was out for all of about ten seconds, but the furnace come on when the power came back, then the AC came on. I'm as confused as the thermostats.

The storms are still around, but they seem to be scraping by to our west. We did have a nice double rainbow, though.
 
D must be out doing useful things, so I've put the pot on. The normal blend this morning... whatever that happens to be. Nobody should have any grounds for complaint - the filter stayed in place today.

Rest of our morning is packing-up to go home. It's been a cabin week.
 
There has been an extra large share of not so good news here these past few months, so I thought I would share some happier thoughts having been away for some 10 weeks. My wife and I have been on a sort of world tour of grandchildren/ holiday/ business loose ends. First to Tokyo where our Daughter in Law by the time we arrived had given birth to not one daughter but two, the second of which had been a secret surprise for us. When our twin(adult) daughters were told of their arrival and the fact that the babies had been named after their twin aunts it was the only time in living memory that the older twins were ever silenced. But more than pleased!

Then on to Boston where shortly after we arrived our two eldest daughters both had boys only a day apart. At about 9 pounds each they were almost twice the size of the Tokyo girls but all are healthy, parents and grandparents all doing well too.

Incidentally, the father of our eldest daughter's husband informs me that the correct collective noun for a group of Grandmothers conferring together on the best advice to give new mothers is a coven. :)
 
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You wait years for grandchildren, then get four in a few months. Worse than bloody buses!

(This was my MIL's reaction when I told her I was pregnant. She'd spent 20 years waiting for one of her sons to oblige)

Excellent news @ishtat . Hope you and the other grandparents have lots of fun with them all.
 
Thanks for a fresh cup :coffee:.

On the advice of doctors, I've been assigned an exercise therapy plan and started attending PT three days as of last week. It was taxing. I wrote about the 5 lb weights feeling inordinately heavy for a guy my age. The treadmill regimen was also heavy for me. Over the weekend, I felt foot pains after trying to walk my neighborhood street and went home, shortening the walk. I was in pain. It got worse this week, and I had to end the PT treadmill stuff. The PT doctor looked at my feet and sent me to a podiatrist.

Somehow, I damaged both my big toes and had to have my nails removed yesterday. Due to the toe pain, I couldn't sleep with my feet covered. Today, I hobbled back and forth, letting Buddy in and out of the backdoor. I see myself as a pirate with two peg legs! Hobbling from chair to table and back. I managed to change the bandages this afternoon, but what a pain.

I started exercising to help prevent falls–but ended up being unable to walk for some time now.

The podiatrist assured me I would be much better after removing the damage and treating the infection. He lied. I've got two weeks of daily footpaths to help with the infection and then figure out how to get the excerises back. I guess that can be done without toenails, maybe?

More :coffee: please!
 
well, it is almost back to school time for the great-grands--all six of them go to school, the two youngest are not in public school yet tho.

Grandson just informed me he got a promotion at work (now a Sergeant); and a somewhat supervisor of either 3 or 4 folks (he is LEO and a school 'resource', officer--in other words, the guy that is supposed to take down the bad guy).

Youngest daughter is on vacation (glamping) with hubby and their best (couple) friends.

One of the great-grands has a birthday this month and I just sent him an Amazon gift card.

Sister in law is recovering from fall/broken arm and we are expecting August to be hot at hell, as usual here in Texas.

End of the month I get another 'poke in the eye' (AMD) and the family has forbidden me to drive past the city limits!! I had already given thought to stopping driving next year (when my driver's license is up for renewal again).

Just thankful things are pretty much "calm" for the moment.
 
Got to have a moment and enjoy a nice cup of Earl Grey. The weeds are really getting out of control but I just don't have the energy to tackle them. I've tried to keep them under control using Preen but it seems like every time I use it, and I use enough that it looks like we had a bout of yellow hail, I get an even larger crop of weeds. I must be doing something wrong.
 
I had a dream last night--actually this morning. It was 4:44AM when I woke up--too early to get up and too late to get back to sleep--so I laid there and thought about the dream. I decided to write it down here, partly so I'd remember it better, partly to vent, and partly for your amusement.

In the earliest part of the dream I remember, I was working in an unfamiliar office for some unnamed client. I picked up something I was working on and went into another room where a woman behind the desk hopped up from a man's lap. Her dress was unbuttoned from neck line to hemline, and it fell open when she looked at me. She had a wonderful, curvy body and no inclination to cover up, so I complimented her.

I left whatever I was there for and went back to what I was doing, but everywhere I went that same couple was having sex -- over a desk, in a chair, wherever. The other people in the office took it in stride, but it interfered with their jobs so they were mildly annoyed.

I left, and found the office building in a very rural setting. From the parking lot when I was leaving and on the winding road north, I could see a white stone tower on a crag over a precipice. This is a recurring element in my dreams. I don't know what's beyond the precipice. I've never seen it. The road wound around the base of the crag and there were large, abandoned houses on the side of the crag below the tower. Some were white stone like the tower and some were red or brown stone. All were falling into ruins, and from the closer look, the tower was also a ruin.

I slowed passing the crag and the road entered a town or village that was mostly abandoned. I think the town is another recurring element, but its never had a name before. This time I knew it as "Shandy." There was a house beside the road with a windmill and water tank on top (I think I've seen that in real life), with three dead horses -- one a colt -- on the roof beside the tank. They'd been there for a while. I haven't seen that in real life.

The center of town was not abandoned. There was a tree-covered park or square at the center of town that was crowded with people rehearsing for a dance. On summer weekends the people of Shandy put on a big dance to entertain each other and to bring in business. It's a rowdy affair -- similar to square dance at its most physical, but with more than eight people. The town's people are performers in this big dance. I recall red-faced and jovial men and women in cowboy boots, bluejeans and plaid shirts.

I watched the dancers for a while then passed by the square to a cafe on the other side. I wanted to ask someone about the house with dead horses on top. On the way I found handbills instructing the dancers on what kind of sidearms to wear, and how.

I had coffee and pie with a woman who came from I-don't-know-where. She explained how the dance and rehearsals worked and her explanation caused a sort of flash-back to the square. One woman threw another woman against a chalk-board sign on the boardwalk in front of a shop beside the square, then helped her up. She wasn't mad, she was just showing her the dance move she needed to learn.

The woman I was with in the cafe also explained that the town had heard complaints from the impoverished people living south of Shandy. They planned to go to town and break up the party, so the dancers were all to be armed.

Then I woke up without getting an explanation for the dead horses on the roof.

Parts of the dream are recurring, and parts were new to me. The office setting reminds me of an office I visited outside College Station, Tx, and the setting for the town of Shandy is similar to settings along the Rio Hondo, west of Roswell, where Billy the Kid had his heyday. I spent some time growing up in Roswell. The dance almost certainly comes from a drunken square-dance party I witnesses from below a table when I was nine. In the real party, the women wore long, brightly colored, frilly dresses instead of blue jeans. My normal dance partner and I (my mother called her my girl friend, and that annoyed me) were under the table to stay out of the way.

Now the cat has brought me his toy. I have to accept his gift and congratulate him on his great hunting skill. And my coffee is getting cold.
 
The second garden crop of the year bit the dust this morning. I gleaned everything off the sweetcorn and pulled the plants out of the ground. I'll let them dry and shred them back into the soil.

I've always wondered how the "baby corn" used in stir fries comes about. Why would someone plant a crop then harvest it at such an early stage? I might have the answer, since I gleaned some very young ears from low on the plants. I haven't shucked any of them yet, but I expect they explain the origin of "baby corn."

PS. The undeveloped ears look just like "baby corn," but they have to be in a very narrow range of development to look right. Eaten raw, they're tender with an interesting snap, but no flavor at all.
 
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There are some varieties of corn ('maize' to the uninitiated) bred to produce more cobs per stalk, but the alternative is just as you say, 'normal' cobs picked early.

Why? I would suggest simple return on investment. A farmer might get (making up numbers as I have no knowledge of real prices) $1 a pound for normal, big sweet corn and $1.15 a pound for the little fellows. Just guessing, but it seems reasonable.
 
Corn on the cob is difficult for those with missing teeth. Normal ears would be more challenging than the tiny ones, I think. LOL

Not that I have any missing teeth, but Dad does.
There are some varieties of corn ('maize' to the uninitiated) bred to produce more cobs per stalk, but the alternative is just as you say, 'normal' cobs picked early.

Why? I would suggest simple return on investment. A farmer might get (making up numbers as I have no knowledge of real prices) $1 a pound for normal, big sweet corn and $1.15 a pound for the little fellows. Just guessing, but it seems reasonable.
 
Corn on the cob is difficult for those with missing teeth. Normal ears would be more challenging than the tiny ones, I think. LOL

Not that I have any missing teeth, but Dad does.
I cook it on the cob then slice the kernels off. That works best with a recently-sharpened knife.
 
End of the month I get another 'poke in the eye' (AMD) and the family has forbidden me to drive past the city limits!! I had already given thought to stopping driving next year (when my driver's license is up for renewal again).
I sold my car this week. It was an emotional decision to stop driving at my age. Neuropathy sucks.

Good luck with the poke.
 
The Mike Hammer stories were posted on July 31st. There are not many entries, but they are doing pretty well. Today, I finally got a comment on mine entitled, 'Savory Lies and Deadly Spies.'

"I loved this it was a true thriller. Mickey would have been proud."

I enjoyed the comment. It makes me think it was worthwhile writing the noir-style Mickey Spillane-style story.

If anyone has some spare time between vegetable harvests, please check them out. I know the authors would appreciate a line from the coffee club members. [Me too!] :whistle::coffee::D
 
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