I'm cooking, it's ready, time to scoop it up into the bowl. What “it” is matters not, because “it” all comes out brown and crunchy. Let's call it Cajun and cover it with hot sauce. I need an excuse for hot sauce. Where is my antacid? To the point. Scooping it off the pan and into the bowl would go better if I used a metal spatula rather than the current food chiseling tool, an old floppy plastic spoon. ($1, over-used, been melted) I won't do it. I won't use the good metal spatula for fear of having to wash it. Washing the spatula is a big deal. I'll get my hands wet, have to dry hands on pants, and still they won't be dry the way I want them dry. A mission launches to find a clean dish towel that doesn't smell rank. I'm a sniff test person. I can share a list of nasty smells. I've special long names for kitchen smells – I was a German scientist in a previous life. I used the metal spatula and I'm glad over it. Today's lesson: If you have the tool, use it, clean it, but always use it... and maybe clean it later.
Remarks by George Furman
I don't like sanding drywall - put that drywall on the ceiling and I'm in Poseidon's dungeon of wet misery. I have to come up for air more frequently than I used to 20 years ago. I'm running out of breaks to invent.I did the music change shuffle too many times. Tried Chill, didn't even make it to the ladder. Touched Beethoven's 9th for an ouch I put my finger on the stove hot second. I'm done with the 9th, Free Bird, and the Piano Man for life. I think. I played some Bowie and that got me to work scouring hard plaster. Bowie couldn't keep me in the head space long enough. Started surfing music again. A few rounds of the up & down the ladder dance and I accepted the need to shuffle and cope. I got hungry. I'm remodeling the kitchen, so it's aa 35 second radioactive hot dog and swigging root beer out of the 2 liter – side crushed in. This is construction. The hot dog had a whole wheat bun because my Ex will haunt me to the brimstone. Two thirds of the kitchen sanded and I felt the need to write about my drywall experience as the root beer gets down to the foamy swill. I'm self aware now and acknowledge the need to get back to Poseidon's suck. But wait – though I know the need to urgently get back to work - I'd like to talk about the new improvements in drywall sanding sponges...
I'm at the finish line for remodeling my house - as far as big projects go. I seriously miscalculated in my plans. I expected a new counter top would cost me $150. I did my homework but did it casually. The failure was to not calculate charges for special cuts and the sad fact that the counter top is hard to match - 16 years old. The quote was $510 for one counter top. Denied. Did some Winnie-the-pooh thinking and bought $160 of epoxy and set to making my own counter tops. I'd rather do it myself. I'm not into perfection. I'm into character – which is code for, I make a lot of mistakes but turn them to my favor. Art, that's what controlled mistakes are. I love epoxy. It is just like paint, except its permanent and a blow torch has to be used to pop bubbles as the epoxy cures. How fun is that? Fire! I've got the seal coat ( prime ) on the counter now. Bubbles have been bursting faster than recent college graduates discovering what entry level salaries really are. At 8 PM, it is flood-coat time. When the bell chimes, there is going to be more serious torch action. Die bubbles, die!