Painting Quick and Dirty With The Anti-Crystal

I've been applying for a lot of jobs lately. It's overwhelming, and somewhat frustrating - even though I seem to be doing a good job getting interviews. So many potential employers are crazy that it's very important to be discerning. Luckily, most of the places I've gotten bites from have been upstanding.

Scrolling through Indeed.com, I happened upon an advertisement for a new Paint n Sip company. It pays 40 dollars an hour, and seemed like it could be a really good gig. Paintings for these sorts of events are simple - the point is that anyone can make them. People go to a bar or restaurant and they normally drink wine, get a little tipsy and learn to feel good about their ability to follow instructions and make something they can be a little proud of. The paintings have some sort of appeal, and guests have to be able to make them - fast. But I'm good at this. I'm good at teaching, and I'm good at talking in front of people, so I thought it would be a piece of cake.

And so I began my very very long, very weird interaction with it's founder/owner. He demanded that the painting have deep special meaning. And that it be a "work of value." *Sigh* I get it, but you probably won't teach beginners anything of value in under an hour. He asked me to discuss my ideas with him first. So, I gave him some ideas. And then he asked me to answer a few questions about my propositions. They were the fairly typical kind of cheesy questions you might expect, but I replied to them sincerely. He loved my answers.

Each time we interacted he didn't sign his last name. He didn't list a venue location. And he wanted to meet at a Starbucks. So, I asked him where it was going to be, and what his last name was, and he ignored my questions. Finally I got a venue out of him, but not his last name. His paint and sip would be at a coffee/tea shop. That's interesting too, because I don't really like to paint amped up on caffeine as it makes me a bit shaky. And, it made me wonder if he was religious. 

I made a painting for him and recorded a video of me making it, which maybe someday I'll be able to edit and share. So far, twice, Adobe Premiere Pro CS6 has failed to recognize it's own file format, and I cannot open my saved projects that I labored intensely over. Oh how I'm growing to hate that program. -- Back to the interview:

He kept dodging questions right up until I met him.

Outside of the Starbucks it was 107F. There was no room inside. So I found a chair outside and texted him. He was sitting in the heat too. He apologized for lack of room inside. He was a young clean cut thirty year old Asian with a scraggly beard, wearing a red polo shirt and khaki shorts. 

We began our awkward interaction. He liked my painting. He called it magestical. I blinked and tried not to wince. I like my painting, but it is not magestical. Then came the weird. 

I asked what his last name was again. And, he ignored my question. He went on to ask about my painting.

I asked him again what his last name was and he laughed and said, "You asked that before." He tried to move on. But I didn't let him. I said it was only fair that I know his last name because he knows mine. He chuckled nervously, looking a little uncomfortable. "No one else has ever asked me that question." I shot him a look. He then told me what his (hopefully real) last name is before launching into even stranger territory.

"Are you Asian? Part Japanese? Because when I first saw you..."

"Nope. I'm American."

"You don't look like people from around here."

Um... Okay. 

"Ah, a native. Born and raised." He stated. I didn't quite get it, because he didn't seem like he was a transplant, and besides, he seemed pretty American too. And I'm always weirded out when people from other cultures want to identify me as one of their own. I'm pretty white, even if I am a mutt. It's like I would have this odd identity pass that would allow me into some secret club that I know I don't belong to. I told him I was a mutt, not Asian. But he kept wanting to know where I was from. I did not tell him.

"Do you have kids?" "Are you married?" When I answered no, he stated it was good that I would have free time, and that dating was difficult. I felt a little insulted. "I hope you don't mind if I ask you, but how old are you?" I told him asking my age wasn't quite as weird as asking if I was married during an interview. And I told him I thought it was way more strange than wanting to know the last name of a potential employer. I wanted him to know I thought his questions were out of line.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. How will I be paid?"

"You'll have a check for 85 dollars at each event."

I wondered if those checks would clear. 

We discussed me giving him a short bio and profile pic, and that was that. I'm going to write him and tell him I've found something else. The truth is, I'm hopefully interviewing for a couple of jobs that I really do want, and his may have been fun, but he was too shady for me.

So, even if I didn't get a good job from this, I have video footage on how to make the above, which I hope I can use to cut into something funny to share someday soon. And, I am prepared to possibly teach a class on my own. How much fun would that be?

Dutch Baby

I've never made a Dutch baby before, or even eaten one. Why did it take me so long? This was fantastic! Nutmeg and lemon zest with raspberries and a drop of pomegranate syrup gave made it indulgent, without being too sweet. Next I may make a savory one, with bacon cooked into the bottom of the pancake...

I used this recipe: NYT Dutch Baby

Cheese Puffs

The recipe I follow for these is from this site:

http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/easy_brazilian_cheese_bread/

I also add salt to the top of the puffs before baking. This gives them a nice mouth feel - in my opinion. I prefer flake salt, but any will do. Maldon smoked flake salt is excellent on top of these.

Kraut Rage

    

When you have completed chopping and mashing and mixing, and your sauerkraut is in it's ball jar with airlock - place in a cool dark location 60-70F for one to two weeks. After this, you can move your concoction to the refrigerator. Higher temperatures will give your kraut a different flavor and consistency. 

Chiles Poblanos Stuffed with Queso Fresco

Extremely simple, this recipe is spicy, smoky and delicious. Despite the length of the video I will post showing how to make it, this can be done in a few minutes.  

Ingredients:

• Poblano peppers (Sometimes mislabeled as pasillas)
• Queso Fresco 

Tools:

• Searzall, grill, open flame or broiler
• Toaster oven or bowl with lid or saran wrap

This is a good how to for getting to know your torch or Searzall. Using this recipe was an excuse to see just how well I could create and edit a video. It is my first time doing so, and I know I need a lot of practice editing. I tried to have some sense of humor, but I'm a little dry - so if you see this, be kind. Also, there is a really small spelling error in a subtitle that I didn't have the patience to get rid of. Maybe someday I will. Just know I'm aware of it. The uploading process takes forever and a day. 

Steps:

• You will wash your peppers first.
• Next torch the peppers creating an evenly burnt skin, without a white ashy surface.
• Peel the skin from the peppers. You may use paper towel, gloves, or clean hands.
• Take a knife and cut around the outside of the top of the peppers, into and through the walls that hold the seeds in. Remove the stem and seeds.
• Fill the peppers with queso fresco.
• Take the pepper (if hot enough) and place it in a covered bowl. Or, use a toaster oven to melt the cheese like I did.
• Cut the peppers into squares. Mix them up for varied flavor and spice levels.
• Enjoy.

Pets, Nature, Cities and Conflict

Today I woke up to a little dog barking hysterically. "It's nothing," I shrugged, "The owners have just left for work."

Five minutes later I heard a frantic scream. I rolled out of bed and went to the window. Was this an emergency? Would I need to call someone? Domestic abuse? Another loud wail came from a woman down the hill somewhere. It did not sound good. Finally words accompanied the sound.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Huh, maybe I would have to call someone. The woman could be hurt.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! A coyote killed my dog." There was audible sobbing. "Fuck! Fuck! A coyote killed my dog."

(Later in the day my sister told me it was not her friends dog that was killed, but her friends small sweet dwarf Nigerian goat.)

I tried to figure out which neighbor it was. Were they close enough to comfort, to help? It didn't appear to be the pit bull owners close to me. I don't know who it was. I am hoping it isn't my sister's friend at the bottom of the hill. She has an old, rather surly chihuahua mix.

Our pets are our family. They are pieces of our hearts. When we are sad, they are there for us in ways that other humans cannot be.  They accept us without judgment as long as we are kind, and sometimes when we are not. They do not judge our complexity. They are the love that we want from the world and they give us comfort that life is responsive and good.

Heavy raindrops fall in a scattered pattern onto the deck of my cabin. It is an odd drizzle for such an arid time of year. The grass is brown and dead. Only the trees and scrub remain green. The rain seems to evaporate even before it hits the dirt. It is a beautiful morning. But for someone, it is heartbreakingly sad.

This brings me to think about the risks of living in a wild city.

In many ways it is our responsibility to make room for nature and all of it's callousness. We are a part of it, after all.

Nature is not kind. It is not mean. But it can feel cruel in moments like these.

We have many animals visit us in Sunland. There are mountain lions, bobcats, peacocks, hawks, foxes, and many many coyotes. Where I live, there is a llama for guarding the goats from coyotes. Even the llama with his fiercely curled, sickle shaped back teeth would have a difficult time with a mountain lion. Even a horse can be taken down by these sleek graceful wild cats. When I walk at night, I often wonder if I am being watched by sharp eyes. Alone outside in the dark I often hear the yipping frenzied calls of the coyotes echoing from canyon walls. The sounds are so loud many times I feel like they are right behind the nearest tree.

Conflict is inevitable.

Here is a link to This American Life's episode, "When the Beasts Come Marching In."

https://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/582/when-the-beasts-come-marching-in

This podcast discusses how we deal with the nature that surrounds us. It is a humorous, dark reminder of both our own power and simultaneous struggle to maintain our place at top of the food chain by separating ourselves from the very thing we are a part of.

I have always liked to write bad poetry. Also, forgive my grammar.

Why Desire Is The Strangest Feeling

The strangest feeling is desire

Desire to own, to have, to see, to possess

What does it mean

To be tied to love, when so much of love is in untying knots

Stripping naked, baring bones, being free

In the hopes that somehow leaving no ropes, cloth, string and chains

Will tie us more tightly to ephemeral gain

If I wanted you beside me

I still wouldn’t change

You would be you

And I would be the same