Skip to main content

Rainy day lunch with my neighbor

Ron claimed to have tried Sombat's on a trip he made here before we actually moved. He said it was, "terrible." Yet all I've heard from locals here was that it was ono, excellent and according to some, "da bes'" Thai food in town. My neighbor Kathy and I ventured down there for lunch today and I must say, it was pretty ding dang good, gun funnit. Ron admits he might have been thinking of another place. He says now he doesn't think he actually ate there. He's da kine lolo l'dat.

Kathy and I enjoyed a shrimp veggie dish with peanut sauce and something they call "coco soup," which is a coconut milk-based taste treat, loaded with fresh veggies, curry seasoning and in our case, chicken. We also each indulged in a Thai iced tea. Not so good for the cholesterol count, but yummy.

The weather has turned back to.... you guessed it. Rain. Go figure. Right here. In the rainforest. Who'da thunk? What's the world coming to?

Crawford left two of what we call, "love dumps" in the house today. Poor baby. She can't feel them coming out. Usually, we're really good about taking her out often so she can leave them in the lawn. Luckily, they're always small and firm. They don't smell, either, which is weird for poo. It does, however, make them harder to notice until you accidentally step on them in your slippers.

I found a place to design a simple, yet custom headstone for my dad. It'll have some graphics on it that I think he would have appreciated and which reflect his passions in life. I still can't believe he's gone. I get the urge now and then to pick up the phone and give him a call. I still picture him parked in front of his T.V., watching either Fox news election coverage or NASCAR races on the Speed channel. He should just pick up the phone.

I'm headed out on yet another trip. On Thursday, Hawaiian Airlines will whisk me away to California for some wine tasting with my pals. Then it's on to Gunnison to visit the cabin and chat with the realtor about selling it this summer. I had originally thought I would opt out of this voyage, but Ron convinced me I should go, spend some time with friends and take the plastic off the windows before summer arrives in the Rockies. So, off I go into the wild blue yonder.... again.

A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Born and bred

The creature stared at me, wide-eyed through the florescent glare, Saran Wrap stretched tight across its broad back. Alone in the seafood cooler, he was the only one of his kind, there among the farmed, color-added Atlantic salmon and mud-flavored tilapia, perched on a blue foam tray, legs tucked 'round him like a comfy kitten. He didn't blink. He was dead, red, cooked and chilled, ready to eat. Such a find is rare in the City Market fish department in Gunnison, Colorado. What if nobody takes him home? I thought. This beautiful animal will have died needlessly, ripped from his home, family and friends (Dory, Nemo, Crush and Gill?) only to be tossed in the trash when his expiration date came and went. I lifted him for closer inspection, checked that date, felt the heft of him, scanned his surface for cracks and blemishes. The creature was perfect. I lowered him back into the cooler, nodded farewell, turned to walk away, took one step, and stopped. Shoppers strolled past, stud

General goofiness

I was driving home from an abbreviated shift at work last night when I turned on the radio and heard Bob Dylan singing Everybody Must Get Stoned .  I was reminded of a placard I once saw at a Dairy Queen in Colorado that read, Everybody Must Get Coned .  So it occurred to me, there navigating through the misty darkness, that with a slight modification, this could be a great slogan for a number if different businesses.  Here's my list. Telecommunications company: Everybody must get phoned . Cutlery shop and knife sharpening services: Everybody must get honed . Credit Union: Everybody must get loaned . Brothel: Everybody must get moaned. Winery: Everybody must get Rhoned . Fitness Center: Everybody must get toned . Local planning commission: Everybody must get zoned . Bio-research company: Everybody must get cloned. Doggy daycare: Everybody must get boned. Manufacturer of modern, unmanned spy planes: Everybody must get droned . Reader of corny mottoes and slogans listed on a chees

Re-writing Twain: Adendum

The best thing about rants, at least among the civilized, is that someone smart always makes a valid point to the contrary. My fellow University of Alaska Anchorage classmate, Wendy, directed me to this column, written recently for the New York Times by a writer I admire, Lorrie Moore . She's on both sides of editing Twain issue, and for good reason, posing the notion that maybe Mark Twain was never intended to be children's literature and that that is the problem. Give it a read, then tell me what you think, if you're so inclined. It was Flannery O'Connor who said, "The fact is that anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information to last him the rest of his days."  No matter how idyllic one's childhood, no matter how hard grown ups try to protect their young charges, trauma happens, sometimes the likes of which no child should endure. Stories that reflect this are often the fodder for great literature, stories not necessarily suitable for y