Tales of Domestication...The Garden

What happened? Wasn't I just a college student the other day? I remember when my biggest daily challenge was the struggle to make it to an 8 a.m. speech class. It was actually possible to lurch awake at 7:45 and still make it on time with some minor sacrifices in hygiene and fashion.

The hours were pretty onerous. My courseload was generally 12-13 hours per week. I spent more time watching Beverly Hills: 90210 with my roommates than I did sitting in class. Those were tough times, I tell you.

For some foolish reason, I completed my college degree in four years. What was my rush, exactly? The idyllic Spanish-tiled confines of the University of Texas gave way to seas of gray fabric cubicles, whiteboards, and conference rooms.

This triggered a chain reaction of profound events. First, I got older with every passing year. The birthdays were relentless. I flew right through the doldrums of the mid-twenties, crashed through 30, and here I sit at an age that can be described as "kinda old, I guess."

Over this time, a slow and steady domestication has ocurred. Wikipedia describes domestication thusly:

Domestication refers to the process whereby a population of animals or
plants becomes accustomed to human provision and control...Animals domesticated
for home companionship are usually called pets while those domesticated for food
or work are called livestock or farm animals.

This is excellent research! First, my lovely wife and I married. We bought a house together. We've painted rooms, replaced shower heads, and spent many hours tending flower beds. We got a dog. At work, I've pushed harder in my career. According to the above definition, I've beome a livestock pet. That is maturity, and life has never been better.

What is the point of these blog rambles? As part of our steady domestication we've planted a nice little vegetable garden. We've got a hodgepodge of exotic heirloom tomato plants that are thriving. There are orange bell peppers, red bell peppers, hot banana peppers, jalapenos, cucumber, and watermelon plants.

The tomatoes have started to bloom, so we'll soon be swimming in tomatoes like: Japanese Black Trifele, Dr. Wyche's Yellow, Sweet Orange Roma, and Black Zebra. Heirloom tomatoes cost $5 per pound at high-end groceries, so this could be a valuable little garden.

Pictures of the garden are coming soon!

Hello World!

Dear Blog Audience:

Shannon and I would like to make a very special announcement. We are having a baby.

The due-date is October 19th. This is a very interesting turn of events in our lives, and we're unbelievably excited to find out what the future holds for us.

There will be more to come in this blog, and we will be sending specially trained carrier pigeons with tiny little scrolls with this news. If one of these pigeons approaches, please don't eat it.

The picture above is about 5 weeks ago. It was just like the movies! We went into a darkened room with a couple of monitors. The kindly nurse put some gel on Shanon's stomach..Then suddenly there we were looking at our tiny little flesh and blood. It was quite a moment. In our most recent visit, we've been told that everything is good...strong heartbeat and all that.

Finally, we are accepting application essays for why you feel the baby should be named after you. Stay in touch..Leave comments here early and often.

Shannon and Chris

Meet the Mutt...

She was scruffy and flea-bitten with the outline of ribs showing through a light blonde coat. This little 15 pound puppy had already seen some tough times in her 8 months of life. She was picked up as a stray by the Humane Society from the streets of Waco, Texas.

We heard and quickly learned that she was adept at survival in dangerous places where food is not readily available. She can catch bugs out of mid-air. Any fly in the vicinity is as good as dog food with her around.

In spite of this tough beginning, her simple canine smile and friendly eyes were bright and unwavering. This was a happy, sweet-hearted little animal, and it didn't take long for us to decide to bring her home with us from Waco.

It's been one of the best decisions we've made together, adding this energetic Corgidor to our house. The breed is half corgi and half labrador retriever. Intelligent, precocious, and energetic.

There have been some ups and downs. She did eat my I-pod Nano and chew on some of the woodwork in our house. But, she's a tireless companion and a warm comforting lump at the foot of the bed every night. She doles out the unconditional loyalty and affection...and we keep doling out the the crunchy dog food.

So, we introduce to you our new dog. Her name is Bella. We hope you can meet her sometime. She would love to jump on you and beg for food.

2008 Presidential Candidates

A Good Idea:
Poker is a fascinating and challenging game. Playing it well requires mastery of fear, strong analytical thinking, excellent instincts, tactical flexibility, and solid strategic skills. You know, those sound like things that might be nice to have in a President of the United States.

Last night on The Daily Show, a Harvard professor proposed a simple idea:

Stage a poker game between the presidential candidates on national television. Voters can watch and get a good look at the actual strategic decision-making of each candidate.

It would certainly be more informative than these ridiculous "debates."

Unfortunately, we'll just file that along with ending the Electoral College in the "That's nice, but it's Not Gonna Happen" folder.

Disclaimer: This is the first and last political post I will ever post here. There's nothing lamer than political blogs. Well, except maybe celebrity gossip / papparazzi blogs.

The Gingerbread Incident

It was a joyful and sometimes raucous family Christmas at Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nancy's house in idyllic Orange Beach, Alabama (sort of a red-neck Margaritaville). With a house full of kids hopped up on turkey and christmas candy, the situation was growing dangerously volatile.

The chaotic opening of the presents was set to begin in a few minutes when a conspiratorial whisper reached me: "Have you heard about The Costume?" Intrigued, I followed Aunt Che into the laundry room. In one corner something bulky and brown sat bulging from a plastic bag: The Costume.

In spite of my well-known maturity and dignified behavior, my relatives somehow chose me to wear The Costume to liven up the party.

And what a costume it was! Here was a huge, full-body Gingerbread Man foam suit. As soon as I saw it, I knew that this was going to be awesome, embarassing, and memorable.

With Shannon's help I crammed my holiday food-enhanced frame into the suit like a cat trying to jam into a shoe box with fur and catmeat bowing out the sides. I started sweating in the heavy foam suit. I practiced my Gingerbread Man falsetto. It was almost showtime.

My stomach fluttered nervously. This was a dangerous assignment. I could hear the shrieks and roars of the sugar-addled children out in the main room. Like sharks in a frenzy at a stricken fish, the kids were nearly frantic with present-opening coming so soon.

Also, it's a well-known fact that violence against people in full-body costumes is a growing problem today. Wearing a giant costume somehow dehumanizes the fragile human within, and people, especially children, lash out violently. I've seen enough episodes of America's Funniest Videos to know what was going to happen. I won't go into the details, but I was certain that I would be punched somewhere that would help get my Gingerbread voice to the right octave. Still, I soldiered on and lurched out into the room.

The next minutes are a blur to me. The bulky suit muffled and distorted outside sounds. The eye-holes in the head of the costume had shifted so that my vision was limited to a tiny window.

I danced. I squealed in my best Gingerbread Falsetto. I handed cookies to the kids. I even chased poor, terrified Bama (the dog). The Costume was a hit based on the laughter I could hear. So I continued to stagger around the room.

It was starting to get hot, and the time was right to exit stage left. The grand finale was a crazed, frenetic dance: part running man / part Bird of Paradise mating ritual. The anonymity of the costume led me to dance in ways I would never, ever attempt in a public situation. The spirit of the Gingerbread Man took over.

When the dance was completed, I collapsed to the floor. Show over. This was not a smart move. The children surrounded me, like curious onlookers approaching a crash-landed alien.

Suddenly, WHAM! A crushing blow landed on my face from above.

The children had surrounded the now supine Gingerbread man. Sensing weakness, my cousin had done her best professional wrestler impression. She had leapt skyward, tucking her little knees under and transforming into a lethal hammer of doom.

She definitely stuck the landing. This was my cue to exit. I staggered away to the laundry room to get out of the costume and assess the damage. My head was pounding and a potential shiner was forming on my right cheekbone.

It wasn't that bad though. The hardness of my head and the foam padding of the suit saved me.
I had a blast cutting loose as the Gingerbread Man, and I hope it becomes a family tradition. Next time I'll stay on my feet and keep my guard up.

Coming back again...

Dear Blog Audience,
I will be attempting to get this old broken-down, up-on-cinderblocks blog up and running in the near future. It was an eventful 2007 with some great times and a few tough ones, too.

I'm incredibly blessed to be surrounded with outstanding family members and friends. There aren't too many dull moments these days, so there's plenty of fodder to write about.

The goal is to use this blog as a soapbox from which I can spew forth narcisisstic ramblings to a grateful, slavering audience. Eventually, Google will buy my site and I will repay you all for your loyalty.

The real reason this thing is coming back is that several friends and family members have asked for some more postings. So, we're coming back. Get ready for more:

• Pictures and stories from social events and parties in Austin (like Cooking Challenges)
• Pet pictures of our freakishly proportioned Corgi-Lab (corgidor) puppy, Bella
• Poorly written essays about my quest to become a better cook. This concept is shamelessly stolen from Anthony Bourdain and Bill Buford.
• Typical funny stuff found on the Internets

Thank you for reading, and, as always, keep postin' those comments.

Muddy Buddy Update

Hola, folks. I just wanted to post a quick update from the the Muddy Buddy adventure race. Please note that this is republished from an email to The Commish.

Muddy Buddy Website

Click here for some pictures

It was a dark and early morning. The day of the Muddy Buddy race had finally arrived, and I was feeling queasy. Maybe last night's enormous meal of bar food and appetizers (Tex-mex burger, onion rings, fried jalapeno strips, and mini-burgers) from The Tavern was making its presence known. Maybe it was dread about running more than 3 miles, something I hadn't done since my days as a Vines Viking. Either way, there were some serious spicy butterflies fluttering as I groggily dressed for the day.

We had already had yet another great Austin weekend. Olie-O, Natty, Matty, Chris, and Jason rolled into town on Friday. They joined up with the lovely ladies of Shannon's famous "Teacher Happy Hour" for some refreshments, followed by a huge home-cooked meal at Hoover's. If there is a recipe for what not to do before a race, I think this sequence of events would be on it.

The evening continued as the group headed out for some downtown nightlife. Nate kept us all laughing by performing his "Here, I'll take a picture of your group for you, but it's going to take about 15 minutes of endless silly delays to do it" routine.

Then, as the night wound down, Olie-O amazed and frightened us (and bystanders in the packed club) with a frenetic dance routine that was immediately dubbed "The Bird of Paradise." Last week in Dallas while watching a nature movie, we had all learned that birds of paradise in New Guinea use insanely colorful and garish plumage displays with intricate dances to lure a mate. That's how it was with Olie-O's dance. Birds of Paradise are endangered animals, so that should tell you how effective this approach was.

Two days later the fun and games was over. We headed out into the hill country on serene and empty roads, roadside hills and pastures lit gently as night eased into dawn.

We had already overcome several obstacles as Rob and I pulled in Flat Creek Ranch. First, I had forgotten my helmet (nuthin but a big hurt, etc.), but Rob had a spare. My phone call to Shannon requesting that she bring my helmet resulted in her locking herself out of the house. She found a spare key.

We were now finally ready to test ourselves in the Beast division (over 400 pounds of combined weight). I was hoping to make a respectable showing among our Sants group of friends to feel like I was finally back from some previous not-as-good years. Yes, I was staying far away from the door, afraid of it opening up, while playing computer games and getting really fat.

I won't go into the laborious details of the race because this essay is getting really long. Basically, we did great on the mountain biking. There were some steep and rocky downhill areas that we practically flew down, blowing past almost our entire division. Then, conversely, many of these folks would blow past us on the brutal running segments. In the end, we logged a time of 53 minutes, good for 15th out of 40 in our division.

The famous Muddy Buddy mud pit kicked my butt. Like a total rookie, I lunged right into it and got muddy effluvium full-bore in both eyes and the mouth. Blinded and gagging, I lurched forward and began to reassess my participation in this ordeal. At least we didn't have some of the problems of our Sants crew.

Ryan and Jason lost the seat of their bike and had to ride the last 3 miles standing up with no seat. Olie-O and Chris had a tire failure right out of the gate, so they dropped the bike and ran the whole race. Hoyle suffered a nasty crash, so he had to enter the filthy mud pit with cut and bleeding hands and knees. This pit was probably nearly as toxic as Commish's infamous screenball hanky.

We all made it to the finish line. I was proud to have finished with a respectable time. Even better, it was another great weekend with true great friends from the Sants. I was really sore the next day, partially from the race and partially from laughing so much.

Dessert Challenge Photos

The Cinco De Mayo Dessert Cooking Challenge / Austin party was a great success. We ate way too much sugar in form of some great and creative desserts. Congratulations to Kristin for winning her second consecutive cooking championship.

here are some pictures:


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