Month: May 2013

  • Disappearing Grill

    I spent the evening cleaning a disappearing grill.

    Last year was a real tough one. The result being that much of the batten down the hatches, it's gonna be a rough winter got forgotten, set aside or completely ignored. Our grill fell into the completely ignored category. Unfortunately, ignoring did not improve the situation.  I love to grill. My philosophy is diametrically opposed to that of my H. I like it clean.. he likes it "flavored". Really? Is that what you call it? I call it a inch of well seasoned grill grime. It was more than evident that H's philosophy is winning.

    We paid what some would call good money; what I call BIG money on a nice stainless steel bodied appliance. In fact the outside was marvelous as I peeled away the grill cover. So far, so good. I gingerly lifted the lid to find the entire inside a nasty, dirty, grimy, black, sticky, gooey, glob of indescribable miserableness. It could have been worse. Something could have crawled up in there and died.. as happened last year. 

    Right then. May as well get at it. First I removed the grill racks. Did you know there's a flat side and a pointed side to those grate bars. Made a mental note to put them back pointy side up instead of flat side up as they must have been for the last two years. Otherwise, not too bad; a bit rusted but if I rotate the worse to the least used end, I should get another year out of them. Onward and inward. As I began to slowly disassemble the "innards" I notice that bits and pieces were flaking away. In fact, as I attempted to remove the burner shields, they completely disintegrated into dust as I touched them. Completely, may be a bit of an exaggeration. After all, large chucks were being held together by mystery gloop.

    So now, I am faced with the incredible vanishing grill. I figure it will cost nearly as much to replace the innards as it would to buy a new grill. H pointed out later (much later, prudently waiting until I was no longer up to my elbows in goo AND out of arm's reach of any sharp implements ) that it wasn't as bad as I thought. The sloppy goo just had me skived. Noooo. Ya think; that wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I vaguely remember eating food prepared on this very grill? Eh? After all, says he, the burners are stainless and in perfect shape.. It's only the braces, screws and stabilizing bars that are rotted nearly beyond recognition. Just don't move or shake the thing up too much and the burners should stay in place. Huh? 

    Hey, is a grill supposed to have a bottom?????

    Several days later, H cleaned up the base panel. You know, the place where the propane tank and accessories are stored. Turns out it, too, is stainless. Silly me. I thought it was supposed to be black. Who knew..

  • Good Morning!!

    Nothing special to say. Just love this picture. My cousin Lisa sent it to me.

  • First Memory

    @loneywanderer2 asked about a first memory.

    So I sat back and thought for a while; and then a while more.

    My earliest memories are just snippets of sight, sound, or remembered aromas. In my memory my first kitten grew up overnight. I can "see" the kitten, and almost immediately, the fully grown kitty. (I'm two, nearly three) Whoosh... I can see my newest baby sister, a mass of red curls crying, crying... and I sure didn't like it. I wanted another kitten (I'm not quite three). My dad is angry; I've played with the door handle (maybe my fourth summer) and fallen out of the car.. from the front seat, while the car is moving. I don't remember that hurting. The spanking did, though. I'm playing in a box in the back garden. (I'm maybe five). The box was constructed with those hugh honking staples. I carry a scar on my left knee to this day. Oh, no ... I didn't make it home in time and I wee'd myself. (I'm four and walking home from school for lunch) Yes four... Mom had just had another baby, my only brother, and I'm in Kindergarten. I'm swinging in the back yard. The pear tree is in bloom... I can smell the blooms, I can hear the bumble bees. I'm frightened but not frightened enough to stop swinging. 

    But the absolute earliest memory is more of an impression, a scrap of emotion. I'm upset, sad, feeling a bit put out. I've been displaced from my sleeping place with mom and dad. I'm alone in a room... and something else is in my place. That something else was sister two, wee red curly top was sister three. I was 11 months old when sister two, the usurper  came along. A memory? I don't know.... It seems impossible that I could remember that. But I know that I can still call up that emotion and then again 18 months later after I had finally acclimated to my lonely status only to have to share the bed when sister two got the boot, lol. I've not ever, ever, had my own room again. Sigh.

    Mem'ries,
    Light the corners of my mind
    Misty water-colored memories
    Of the way we were
    Scattered pictures,
    Of the smiles we left behind
    Smiles we gave to one another
    For the way we were
    Can it be that it was all so simple then?
    Or has time re-written every line?
    If we had the chance to do it all again
    Tell me, would we? Could we?
    Mem'ries, may be beautiful and yet
    What's too painful to remember
    We simply choose to forget
    So it's the laughter
    We will remember
    Whenever we remember...
    The way we were...
    The way we were...

  • Dueling Ding a Lings

     

     

     

     

    I can't believe this story actually made it too Good Morning America. I even took the time to "sanitize" the information so as not to embarrass any of my neighbors. Yes, friends, this is happening in my very own backyard. Or should I say front drive. It's absolutely hysterical. You can hear these guys for blocks. I'm amazed that no-one has done them bodily harm.

    Oh, wait... Some did pull the "trash" out of one of the trucks and shake up one of the drivers. But that was last September and I had thought that maybe the whole thing had blown over. Apparently not.

    Of course, this is not the whole story... just the reported news. 

    Now, locally, we all know that the bad blood goes back a couple of years.

    The only thing scarier to kids than this would be the vendors dressing as clowns. Yikes!!

     

    Ice Cream Truck War Results In Charges

    Police are reporting this morning that they were called to investigate allegations that the operators of the Sno-Cone Joe Ice Cream Trucks were interfering with business being conducted by rival ice cream truck company Mr. Ding-A-Ling.  The Police Department says their investigation revealed that J and A owners of the Sno-Cone Joe had established a pattern of stalking and harassing behavior toward the rival ice cream truck. Police say that "A" and "J" follow the rival truck playing their music at a high volume and yelling they have free ice cream in an attempt to pull customers away from the Mr Ding-A-Ling Truck. Police say at one point was found to have yelled at the Mr. Ding-A-Ling driver claiming that his business controls the ice cream sales in Gloversville

    Ice cream vendor describes assault

    The sight and sound of an ice cream truck are usually well-received on a warm summer evening, but one resident is accused of being less than welcoming. City police charged "K" with second-degree harassment Thursday after an incident in which she is accused of striking an ice cream vendor in the face. Sno Kone Joe employee, "A", said she was following her typical route in the ice cream truck Thursday and reached (a local street) around 7 p.m. She said "K" came out of her residence and began yelling. The vendor said "K" opened the door to the truck, threw its trash bin into the street and began striking the ice cream vendor in front of the children on the street. "A" said the responding police officer told her to clean up the trash that was in the street - the trash that "K" threw out of the truck into the street before the alleged assault. When "K" went back inside, the nearby children came over to see if the ice cream vendor was OK and helped her clean up the garbage in the street. Despite suffering scratches on her face and a cut lip, the vendor said has no intentions of leaving her job. "Of course I'm going to continue my job. I love it," she said. "In an ice cream truck, I don't think I should have to deal with this again. I could try and lock the door. I guess I should. Anything could happen."

     

    YA THINK ???