Avenger of Suckers

I made an offer on a 2009 pickup. It amounts to about $500 above the money they’ve put into the truck. I know the cost of the truck and the delivery charge, and I know how much the holdback is, so I subtracted the holdback and added $500. It’s a good offer, for a year-old truck that tops out at 18 MPG. A truck nobody else wants. They should be willing to sell below their cost, given the age of the truck and the current market. That’s how life goes, when you’re in retail. You can’t make a profit on every deal. I know they have other costs, but that’s not my problem.

The dealer turned me down flat. They want $1200 more. Sure, if Mary Poppins and Frosty the Snowman decide to buy a truck so they can drive around the world with elves in the back, shoveling candy to the little girls and boys who go to bed on time and swear allegiance to Barack Obama. Other than that, they pretty much have to deal or sell it to another dealer at auction.

After I got their response, I decided there was no way I was going to contact these characters again. When you’re negotiating, and you make an offer, and the other side pretends to be utterly uninterested, you wait for them to crack. These guys have to get rid of this truck. I don’t have to buy one.

Today, after four days, they got back in touch. It was just an auto-response. But it proves my point. The only way to deal with a car salesman is to apply the screws and tighten them until he squeals. My offer was too generous; they probably think I’m a sucker. The only way to convince them otherwise is to let them sweat. I offered them more than I think the truck is worth, because I don’t think a Christian should hammer people ruthlessly in the marketplace. They should be satisfied with that.

I may respond tomorrow. I may respond Monday. Maybe I’ll get cold feet and kill the whole idea. I try to think of my money as God’s money. I don’t want a truck just for fun. I want to make sure I’m doing something intelligent. Maybe I was wrong to decide to buy. Time and prayer are always good ideas.

Anyway, it’s funny to watch them play the game.

I think my response will be, “Please consider my offer withdrawn.”

They want me to finance the truck, which will get me a thousand dollars in Ford money. They want to add that money to the price, plus over $200. I do not borrow money if I can avoid it. I don’t care if Ford likes it; I don’t care if they understand that I plan to pay it back in four months. It’s a scam, and anyway, I think borrowing is like daring the devil to wreck your plans. If I pay cash for a thing, I’m free and clear. If something bad happens later, I won’t have to worry about collection agents. I won’t have to take a job I hate, because bills for things I’ve already worn out and discarded will be coming to me over the next five years. And nobody can repossess what I bought. When you borrow, you give up choice. You put yourself in a position where you have to earn, regardless of how you do it. And working is less enjoyable, because you’re not anticipating buying good things with the money. You’ve already enjoyed the good things. All that’s left now is the drudgery of paying for them, and paying the people who charged you for the privilege of enjoying them before you really owned them. And if you choose to go bankrupt, the cost is your self-respect and your good name.

The Bible says it’s arrogant to say you will do this or that, in the future. You should say, “God willing, I will.” If you borrow, you’re saying, “I will continue to earn enough money to pay for all the junk I want to have right now.” Is that smart? I don’t think so. The Bible strongly discourages borrowing. It encourages lending, but it does so with the understanding that you can’t charge usury, and you may have to forgive the loans.

I just realized I’m wearing a T-shirt that says, “Borrowing is for the weak.” It’s from Northern Tool. I couldn’t resist buying it. It’s supposed to be funny, but it’s also one of the universe’s fundamental truths.

I wonder what a $200,000 house would cost, if we didn’t have the mortgage system. Probably $50,000. When people pay real money, as contrasted with pie-in-the-sky future money, they have to pay a lot less. Three things make things cost more than they should: insurance, borrowing, and government involvement.

A Harley dealer once told me some guy came in for a trade-in, threw him the keys to his old bike, told him which new bike he wanted, and said, “Make it $250 a month.” That was all he cared about. He opened the henhouse door and drove the fox in with a cattle prod. Over time, the bike probably cost him fifty grand. The picture would have been a lot different had he had to shovel out up front. MSRP would have been something like $18,000. He probably couldn’t afford it.

I don’t like borrowing. I don’t like borrowing. I don’t want to be a finance company’s slave. I don’t care if it looks smart on paper. When you look at the paper, isn’t it “walking by sight”? Aren’t we supposed to walk by faith?

I don’t care if everyone does it. Most people do lots of really stupid things. My errors are sufficiently abundant as it is.

On another subject, I have a question. What’s a reasonable amount of money for one person to spend on groceries, per week? I don’t really know. I have turned into a bargain-hunting maniac, frequenting Costco and subscribing to grocery-chain sale emails, and while I haven’t added up the cost of my food, I’ll bet it’s pretty low, because about 80% of my meals are cheap, simple, healthy stuff I eat just to stay alive. What should I be paying? Seems like I should be able to do very well on a hundred bucks a week, plus maybe twenty-five for treats, but I’m not sure.

The most expensive meat I eat regularly is fish, at around six bucks a pound. I like to buy prime beef for $12-$13, but that’s rare, and lately I’ve been finding it at Costco for seven-something. I buy whole pork loins for peanuts and cut them into chops and freeze them. I avoid prepared vegetables, like Birdseye and so on. I generally steam or nuke fresh produce. I eat boring oatmeal for breakfast. On the weekends, I like to treat myself to McMuffins and pizza and Chinese food and ice cream, but that adds up to about three meals.

I’m looking around the web, and other people claim they do great on a lot less than $125. Maybe I’m overestimating.

Anyway, the information would be appreciated.

Winn-Dixie Abandons Me

I just suffered a major catastrophe. This is really bad. I got an email saying my weekly Winn-Dixie ad was ready to view, and IT’S NOT UP. I was hoping to load up on cheap chickens and wings, but somehow Winn-Dixie has failed me.

Wings are the ultimate in cheap, excellent, low-carb food. Throw seasoning on them, bake for an hour at 425°, toss in a mixture of Frank’s and butter, and you’re done. I’m sure there are better recipes, but this one is so good and so easy, everyone should know it.

To make it work as a budget meal, you have to have cheap wings. I was counting on Winn-Dixie for that. I was going to buy a big package, break it into smaller lots, and freeze them in vacuum bags. Maybe the ad will pop up in a while, and my hopes will be revived.

What a fool I was, back in the years when wings were always cheap. Back when nobody wanted them. I knew they existed, but they sounded unappealing.

When I went to Columbia University (where classmate B. Hussein Obama was a total cipher), I used to go to a joint called the Chicken Gourmet. It was one of the many bizarre inexpensive restaurants in the area which were run by Greeks. I always went for a burger known as the Super Cheese. The sign advertised Buffalo wings, but I had no idea what they were, so I never tried them. I’ll bet I didn’t have wings until 1989. Sad.

Okay, down to business. I have accepted the fact that my blog has turned into a prayer resource for sick people. I have some items.

Reader Aelfheld, who helps hurricane-magnet Ward Brewer maintain his blog (which I can’t find today), has this to say:

I almost hate to do this, but a friend’s friend by the name of Ben has been diagnosed with stomach cancer at the ripe old age of 28. He’s been through one surgery, but he’s lost a good bit of weight and the doctors put in a feeding tube to try and stimulate his intake and digestion. He still has chemo- and radiation therapy to look forward to. I’m told he’s confident and upbeat, but certainly additional prayers can help.

Imagine. He’s 28.

Yesterday I mentioned Heather’s mom. Here is today’s news:

First off a great big thank you and God Bless to all of you who are praying for my mom.
Mere words can never express the gratitude that I feel for lifting us up in prayer. If I could see you all, I would give you a big hug.
They had to stop and shock her heart like this when she had her open heart surgery. Her heart just gets all out of rhythm and that is the only way it can be brought back to normal.
I have to tell you this, her heart rate was in the 100s when the dr. sent us to the hospital. You could see her jugular vein, jumping in her neck. I think it scared her doctor as badly as it scared me. The funny thing was though, today she felt better than she had since she had be released from the hospital on the 26th.
So right before I left the hospital tonight they came in to do her 8P blood-draw, BP, and temp, and her heart rate had come down to 90’s and that’s with no new meds either! So I know that prayers are working! Just keep them coming.
God is so good!
Thank you and God Bless!

My buddy Mike is going through some difficult times. I can’t give details, but it’s family stuff, not disease or financial problems. He is on my list today, and I hope he’ll be on yours.

I told him about the powerful results fasting had produced in my life. Maybe it will help him. I’m still losing weight, and I still have increased self-control and peace.

As for me and my family, we are trying to get things arranged so the cancer treatment goes smoothly. I am going to have to take a hand in managing appointments and getting information from doctors, and there are sensitive financial arrangements that have to be made, and this may be a hard couple of days, so any help would be very welcome. In particular, my dad will be under a lot of stress.

I am very grateful to see that my early mornings are working again. For a while, I couldn’t seem to get up earlier than 7:00, no matter what I did. Rising wasn’t the problem. Things kept coming up to prevent me from getting to bed early. Over the last week, that problem has gone away, so I’ve been doing much better. I’m convinced that getting up as early as possible is a very important part of a successful Christian life. I want to make sure my enemies start the day walking on their heels, and like I’ve said before, almost nothing worthwhile happens after 9 p.m. If Jay Leno means more to you than peace and prosperity, you are hopeless.

Wait…Jay Leno retired, right? I forgot.

This couldn’t have happened at a better time. Tomorrow is a chemotherapy day, and my sister will also have lab work, so she needs to be at the hospital at around 8:00, and we don’t know whether she’ll feel like driving home, so she’ll need a ride. She may also start radiation. It’s not clear. She isn’t researching this stuff the way I am. I’ve seen a lot of ominous information about radiation side effects. Chemo has been almost painless, but radiation causes fatigue as well as eating problems, and when they irradiate your head, all sorts of things can happen. So I’m trying to see to it that we’re ready. Because I’m already getting up early, morning rides to the hospital will be no problem.

I don’t tell my sister the negative things I’ve read about her condition, unless she insists or there is an important reason to tell her. She doesn’t know much about her own cancer, and she doesn’t want to. I suppose she has a right to decide how much bad news she wants to hear. And the news is so bad, I’m not eager to tell her.

Sometimes I feel tempted to tell her she has to get on the ball regarding some issue or other because x or y is in her future, and she needs to be ready for it. But I avoid dropping big bombs.

I’m getting back to work on my pastor’s book now. Thanks for everything.

Catch a Gamefish, not a Bottom-Feeder

I can’t believe I’m finally writing something that will be useful to God. For a long time, I’ve wished I had some way to put my writing ability to good use, but I came up dry. The main issue is that I’m not qualified to write Christian books on my own. I am not a Bible scholar or a pastor. I suppose I could write something if I had someone with more authority guiding me, but I would have to stay away from anything tending to make me look more knowledgeable than I really am. By helping an experienced pastor with a book, I can bypass the problems. The ideas are his, and he has the final word, so it’s not too likely that the world will end up reading something stupid which I inserted through ignorance.

I wish I had gotten this involved long ago. Christian life is much easier when you know you aren’t alone, and it’s also easier when you’re doing something that gives you purpose.

Yesterday while I was working on the book, I kept seeing one indication after another that God aimed this project at me. I’m not just writing it down. I’m learning from what it says, and it’s exactly what I need. It’s always startling when he confirms himself, which is strange, because it happens so often, you would think I’d get used to it.

The book is about planning a family, and the section I’ve worked on so far is about finding a spouse. Guess what he compares a quality spouse to? A dolphin. The green fish my father and I catch off Miami all the time. He compared unsuitable spouses to catfish. You can catch them anywhere, and the bait doesn’t matter. If you want a dolphin, you have to search and be persistent, and you have to go where they school. When I read that, I remembered what Aaron always tells me. “Fish in stocked ponds.” Coincidence, right? Tell yourself that if it makes you happy.

I had no idea the pastor liked to catch dolphin. What’s my dad’s favorite thing to do? Dolphin fishing. My dad, the guy I pray for all the time, hoping God will get through to him. I emailed the pastor and told him he needed to fish with us. Later I told my dad. He said, “I’m afraid he’ll get the Holy Ghost on me.”

He was joking, but it just might happen.

The book contains a lot of solid advice no one ever spelled out for me before. For example, you have to look at a potential mate’s family and ask yourself if you want your kids to be around them. The example he gave was a father-in-law who gets drunk at seven a.m. and spends the day cursing at everyone. Conventional wisdom tells us you marry the person, and that love conquers all. In reality, you marry the family.

He also said you should not demand fireworks up front. This is another thing Aaron likes to talk about. The Orthodox have their kids meet each other and get to know each other, but they don’t have the kind of long, meandering engagements the rest of us have. There’s no sex, and maybe sometimes the chemistry is not obvious at first, but they expect to grow to love each other. That’s virtually the same take you’ll see in the book. And doesn’t Ecclesiastes say the end of a thing is better than the beginning? That’s a universal principle.

He used Samson as an example of what happens when you date or marry outside your faith. Again, this is something society tells us is romantic and sort of noble, but in reality, it’s a recipe for misery.

He called Delilah a catfish. She was a Philistine, from the same area that gives the Jews so many problems today.

Socially, the church is not right for me and my sister. At least, it seems that way at the moment. I would guess that the church is about 75% black, and a lot of them are from the islands, and a big percentage of the congregation is made up of single mothers. It makes for a tough financial picture. And it’s not the kind of place where everyone will look like me or have a lot in common with me. But I don’t see the problem. It’s working. The closer I get to it, the better things seem to work. Maybe now I can get more involved and find ways to do more to help.

I haven’t heard anything back about the truck I made an offer on. If I get a suitable vehicle, I can help the church with guest speakers and so on.

In other news, the benefits of fasting seem to be lasting. Maybe this is the key to self-control. Maybe if you fast AND combine it with directed prayer, it cleans you up. All I know is, I’ve lost a belt notch, and another one is about to go. And I don’t feel deprived at all. And I feel more relaxed and less irritable, and I seem to have more control in all areas.

I’m the only one losing weight, fortunately. On Sunday, I made cornbread and soup beans for my sister, and yesterday I made her take a loaf of homemade bread home. Radiation is on the way, and so is most of the chemo, so she needs to eat everything she can find. I don’t know if she’s taking it seriously enough, but luckily, this is an area where I have a special gift.

After lunch I’ll be working on the book again. I can’t wait to get to it.

If you haven’t come up with a project for the Forty Days of Teshuvah, there is still time. Get to it.

Big Piles of Dead Cow

Here’s one thing I did today.

How do you like that? That’s two rib eye roasts from Costco, going into freezer bags. Prime beef! Cheaper than choice at my local store. I refrigerated it for a week in its vacuum packaging. That ought to be enough aging to have some impact. I should have let them go another week. Beef is no good until it develops a little smell.

I will never understand why people perpetuate myths about steak. They say frozen beef is no good, unless you freeze it instantly in liquid helium or something. Ridiculous. These steaks will be sublime.

I cut three two-inch steaks, for special occasions. The rest are about an inch and a half. I should have cut them thinner, but it’s hard to force your hand to do something your stomach knows is wrong. Two inches is the perfect thickness for a steak. You can burn the outside slowly, to the perfect degree of doneness, without overcooking the inside.

I also froze some Orinoco bananas. These things are frustrating. They all get ripe at once, and they last about two days. Yesterday, I tried to eat one, and I couldn’t do it, because it was too green. Today I had to slice pieces out of the ones I froze, because they were too ripe. But they’ll be great in baked goods.

I think I’m going to dedicate more land to bananas. They’re free, they’re extremely useful, and they look better than bare grass.

I have some bread rising. I am sorry to see that my ability to make fattening food has turned out to be important for my sister’s health. It’s not a very cheery reason to bake. But I’m glad I know how to do these things. If anyone can keep weight on a chemotherapy patient, I can.

I can’t really recommend that Tilia vacuum sealer in the photo. It works, but it’s expensive, and so are Tilia bags. If I ever need a new sealer, I’m going to try one of these jobs from Sorbent Systems. I already buy their bags. I think. Not Tilia’s, anyway.

It has been a truly great day. Maybe I’ll explain eventually. I’m so grateful for the way things are going, in spite of the problems. I think this is how we were intended to live. I fired off a rough draft of the first section of the book I’m helping my pastor with. It would take me a day to explain what went through my mind as I worked on it, and why I’m so glad I’m doing it.

Hope they take my offer on that truck. If not, I’ll have to bolt a bed to the T-bird.

Freeze it, Dry it, Can it, Love it

It’s Labor Day! That means I should not be laboring. But I am. I am trying to get some work done on Pastor Wilkerson’s book. I also have to slice up and freeze the Costco prime rib roasts that have been aging here since last week. I still can’t believe I got prime beef for under eight bucks a pound.

It’s really shocking, how cheap food is when you put thought into it. The beans I fixed yesterday are fantastic, and they’re very good for you, and you can make a pot of them for maybe three bucks. The cornbread contains one egg, a quarter of a cup of grease (free, if you save it when you cook bacon), 12 ounces of milk, and two cups of meal. What does that cost? Let’s see. An egg runs about fifteen cents. The meal is something under a dollar. The milk is under fifty cents. It ain’t much.

I you buy whole pork loins at Costco, you get a giant loaf of meat for about 15 bucks. It’s something like 40 pork chops, and two of them will make a meal. Seventy-five cents per meal! And it’s not second-rate food. Pork chops are wonderful.

Ham hocks are a great deal, provided you’re willing to man up and eat the fat. Two hocks contain enough energy to make a meal all by themselves.

The pot of chili I made the other day ran me about 15 bucks, but that’s because I didn’t make any effort to get cheap meat. It was a spur of the moment idea. I suppose a smart person would get Costco beef and freeze it in one-pound bags. I don’t know what they charge for ground beef, but it can’t be a lot. And there’s no reason you can’t grind up a pork loin and freeze it. My chili is half pork and half beef, so I have to have ground pork. Maybe I should get a grinder. They’re cheap. I don’t know what Cuisinart ground meat looks like, but I’ll bet it’s not great.

Even though I paid too much for ingredients, 15 bucks is not bad for eight or ten huge portions of dynamite chili.

I need to start cooking the rest of my SHTF dried beans. After a year in storage, they’ll be too hard to cook. I suppose I can prepare one bag per month and freeze the results. Oh, boy. That would be pure hedonism. Bags and bags of frozen bean soup, full of pork chunks, pepper, and onions. Best not to dwell on it. I know it sounds stupid, but if you make bean soup right, it’s magnificent.

Because I live in Florida, I have to think about hurricanes. That means I should get real and start canning. Some day, a hurricane may take out my frozen food. What a horror. I would not lose canned stuff.

Home-canned food is great. Don’t let anyone tell you different. I’ve never had store-bought sweet pickles as good as the ones my grandmother used to make. And she used to can her own sausage, suspended in congealed grease. Best sausage I ever ate, and the residual grease has a thousand uses in the kitchen.

When you cook your own pork, you get to decide how it tastes. And you can take steps to make sure there is no gaminess in it. Most commercial sausage has at least a little boar taint. There is no excuse for it, but that’s how it is. A soak in water and baking soda kills it.

It just occurred to me that I can freeze bananas. They wouldn’t be worth eating out of hand, but you can cook with them. I can also dehydrate them and have chips. I’m going to have tons of bananas and plantains, so I have to do something.

I am trying to learn to think of the stuff I own as God’s property. If that’s true, I have to avoid frittering money away. I can’t say I’m a good steward if I buy food on impulse, at the highest prices, or if I throw out produce because I’m too lazy to preserve it. If you don’t take care of little things, you can’t expect to receive big ones. Check the gospels.

I don’t think everyone has to live like the Waltons, but some expenses don’t make much sense. For example, buying bread. If you own a food processor, a loaf of bread is almost no work, and the cost is minimal. It will be a lot better than store bread. The only advantage of store bread is convenience. I know people have limited time, but the actual hands-on time required to bake bread is about five minutes. And bread freezes with no damage. You can make ten loaves in a day and freeze them.

Costco’s freezer bags are not a great deal. Ebay is better.

It’s not about depriving yourself. It’s about not being an idiot. It’s about getting value for your money. Why spend twenty dollars and get one choice steak when you can spend a hundred and get over a dozen prime steaks? Why pay a restaurant to cook mediocre food when you can have better food at home? And if you arrange life so you have more money for yourself and your family, you’ll also have more money for your church and other people’s needs.

Maybe if I make an effort, I can do a better job taking care of my money. During these Forty Days of Teshuvah, my big aims are to get past laziness and irresponsibility. I’m not a basket case, but there is a lot of room for improvement.

Your Ears Have to be Exactly the Right Shape

Church was exceptionally good today. I can’t tell you all the reasons, but it went very well, from the time I left home until I left the building after the service.

My sister and I went up to talk to the pastor after the sermon. I wanted to let him know how my work on his book was going, and I guess she just wanted to say hi. I told him I only had 3,000 words transcribed, but he seemed very happy with my progress. I asked him to let me know if I could do anything else for him, and he said, “Cornbread!”

I gave him the URL of my blog last week, and evidently, he has read the blog and also watched my Youtube videos, and one of them is about cornbread. He has ruined my plan, which was to concoct a totally phony personality and convince him I was not only normal, but extraordinarily holy. Now I guess the truth is out, so I may as well relax and be the slouch that I am, in church as well as around the house.

The other obvious problem is that he and his wife may ask me to cook stuff for them, which means they’ll be lucky to last a year without buying motorized fat carts and having multiple bypasses. It has been 20 years since I’ve had a regular pastor. I don’t want to kill this one before I can learn anything from him. He says he has diabetes, so I guess I’m the last person on earth he needed to meet.

I took a bunch of brownies to the church on July 4, for some kind of outdoor thing they were doing, but I didn’t hear back about them. I assume they were spirited away by the first five or six people who got into them, so in all likelihood, no one else at the church realizes they existed. Maybe that’s for the best. At 540 calories each, they represent the worst kind of temptation.

The sermon was almost spooky; it was as if it had been written with my family in mind. A cynic would say that was because I met with the pastor last week, so he knew what to say. But some of the parts of the sermon that seemed most apt had nothing to do with anything we discussed. The basic theme was that you need to get the little private sins out of your life before they become public problems. When you try to lead a Christian life in spite of things you haven’t fixed, it’s like letting a scab grow over an infected sore. Sooner or later, it’s going to open up, and all that filth will spill out onto the surface.

I think when Jesus talked about binding the strong man and spoiling his house, he meant that you have to fast and pray and get the spiritual bad influences out of your life, and then the Holy Spirit will grow in their place. So that fits in with the sermon. You can put on a smiley face and pretend your days as a sinner are behind you, but I think some bad habits come from the urgings of malicious spirits, and you have to do something to render them harmless. Otherwise, you’re using human tools to fight powerful spirit-generated urges, and the urges will eventually win. This is probably why we occasionally see famous preachers on the covers of the tabloids, over the word “SCANDAL.”

Sometimes the pastor mentions things God has let him know. I have to wonder what that’s like. I get all sorts of urges which, in my opinion, come from God. I get insights, and sometimes I suddenly realize I’m doing something wrong. But I can’t say for sure that God tells me anything factual, the way some people say he tells them things. Many Christians cite examples of this phenomenon. I’ve seen plenty of weird things that I know were supernatural, but God never says a word to me. Not that I can hear, anyway.

He hasn’t mentioned the Forty Days of Teshuvah, but he talked about Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur today, in a way that expressed the same ideas. This is the time of year when you reflect, repent, and pray. You try to figure out how you’re screwing up, and you try to fix it. I didn’t feel too concerned about myself during the sermon, probably because I was already caught up in changing myself. I’m always leery of concluding a message isn’t aimed at me, but I think sometimes it’s okay. You can’t be wrong about everything all the time.

He asked us to raise our hands if we had ever committed sins after justifying them by saying we were only hurting ourselves. I didn’t raise my hand. It wasn’t because I was stronger than those people. It was because I generally haven’t bothered to worry about whether I was hurting anyone else. Maybe the people who raised their hands are better off than I am.

After fasting last week, I seemed to have more self-control in my life, and it appears to be a lasting thing. I’m still tempted, but now the self-control is just a little stronger than the desire to give in. That little edge makes all the difference. You don’t have to be nearly perfect to behave. After all, Obama won by only 7 percentage points, and that, unfortunately, was enough to make him the President. This is why we call him “The Iwon.”

For the last few weeks, I’ve had a persistent feeling–I would call it a conviction–that God was about to do something wonderful in my life. I keep wondering what it is. Is it the increase in self-control? That would be plenty, all by itself. Is it the new relationship with my church, which will let me do worthwhile things with my time? Does it have anything to do with helping my pastor write a book? I’ve started hearing really promising new songs in my head. I want to write those down this week. Could they be part of it? I’ve always had a problem with music running around in my head, yet I had a hard time composing original songs. Writing is extremely easy for me, but lyrics were even harder than tunes. Now that seems to be changing.

I have not made cornbread for the pastor, but I’ll be making it for my sister today. She decided she wanted soup beans and cornbread, so the soup beans are simmering, and if she ever gets over here, I’ll get out the skillet and make the cornbread. I don’t want any. She needs fattening food because of the cancer. I used some of my SHTF dried beans. You have to rotate them, because beans only keep for a year, and this seemed like a good opportunity. The beans and cornbread are going to be amazing, but I just don’t have the urge to stuff myself, so I plan to send the whole mess home with her.

I made an offer on a white Ford F150. I’m not doing any business today, so even though I know the dealer replied to my email, I’m not checking it until tomorrow. I hope he’s willing to be reasonable. The recession isn’t going away, and this is a year-old truck. I don’t mind giving him a fair price, but in this atmosphere, covering his cost plus five hundred bucks is very generous. That’s what I plan to give him. I am a sucker for giving that much.

It’s nice being old and patient. If I were in my twenties, I’d be tormented by the urge to make the deal and get it over with. As it is, I don’t care if it takes six months. Judging by the new unemployment figures, it’s completely possible that this truck will still be unsold at that time.

Christianity actually works, if you do it right. Your life won’t necessarily be perfect, but it will be right. If you’re thinking about giving it a shot, I highly recommend it.

Plus Truck Stuff

I am in paradise. I decided I had to have some chili, so I got out my book and made a pot. I had some Jamaican hot chocolate peppers in the freezer, and I thawed out a bag, chopped up some of it, and threw it in. I guess I used so much, it would have added up to more than one pepper. And these things are HOT! Worse than your usual habanero. Very nice.

I didn’t use store chili powder. I mixed paprika and cumin, and I toasted them in a hot pan. Then I added ground chipotles. Beautiful.

I guess when people see tequila in the recipe, they think it’s a gimmick, but you can taste it. I used mezcal. Seems to have more flavor. The only reason I own this stuff is to put it in chili. I remember what tequila and mezcal headaches are like. You wake up, you feel great for one hour, and then you die.

It’s wonderful to make chili just for myself, because when I cook it for other people, I can’t put any heat in it. I’ve gotten so I don’t enjoy it unless it’s roasting hot. A while back, I went to a restaurant, and when the waiter asked how spicy to make the food, I told him, “Try to kill me.”

I think the cheddar cheese I dissolve in the chili (today it was actually Double Gloucester) allows me to use more heat, because butterfat tones down the pain. I served the chili decorated with a handful of cheese chunks (in addition to the dissolved cheese) plus two or three tablespoons of sour cream.

I seem to enjoy food more these days, maybe because I have more self-control and I’m not stuffing myself all the time. I only had one bowl of chili, and I followed it with half a pint of ice cream. I could never have eaten half a pint of ice cream a year ago. Two pints? No problem. Half a pint was impossible.

I’m getting good comments on the truck question. Someone suggested the truck with the max tow package had a Dana rear end. I’m pretty sure the last time I encountered the phrase “Dana rear end,” Jimmy Carter was President. Both trucks have 3.73 gears and limited slip. The FX4 (non-max-tow) has some kind of electronic limited slip. I can’t tell you who makes any of this stuff.

Someone mentioned bigger trucks, like the F250. I don’t plan to tour the country with a travel trailer. I don’t think a big pickup is necessary. If I get an F150 the way I like it, I’ll be able to put over a ton in the bed, and I’ll be able to tow things like motorcycle trailers. That ought to be sufficient. I’ve read about the big trucks, and they sound crude, not to mention expensive and hard on gas.

It’s not so much that I want F250 capabilities. I just don’t want to find out I didn’t get the most I could in an F150. And there are big differences.

Right now, you can get a thousand dollars off if you finance. But I hate debt. I think going into debt unnecessarily is opening the door to problems. It’s a chink in your spiritual armor. On top of that, Aaron has informed me that the Talmud says you shouldn’t price-shop when you don’t intend to buy. Orthodox Jews consider it immoral. If I were to finance, it would only be to get the discount, and I’d pay the loan off as early as possible. It seems like the same basic idea as shopping with no intention to buy. Ford gives you money back. People do paperwork. A company anticipates profiting from the deal. Then you turn around and prove it was all a scam. I know nobody would be crying himself to sleep afterward. But deceit is deceit, regardless of whether the victim is a person or a company or a government.

I think I’ll make an offer on the white Lariat I found. I have to thank Obama. If he hadn’t meddled with the economy and sided against Israel whenever possible, I think we’d be on our way out of the recession now, and these wonderful rebates wouldn’t be available.

Life is a Peter Max Poster

My post about Ben & Jerry’s drew a few comments I didn’t post. I hope people won’t be angry. The way my life is changing, I don’t know who will show up to read this blog, and I don’t want them reading fairly broad jokes about the more off-putting aspects of gay sex.

Speaking of gay, Ann Coulter says some states ban health insurance that doesn’t cover gender reassignment surgery. Can that be true? I think I’ll call my carrier and ask if I’m covered. While insisting they refer to me as “Louise.”

I’ll bet calls like that make a customer service rep’s day. I think this is why they like to record calls. They probably have office pools, where they bet on the call of the week.

I remember reading about a person who started out as a man, then had himself chopped up and turned into a dreadful imitation of a woman, and then changed his mind and went back and became a dreadful imitation of a man. I think that’s correct. It’s confusing. He may have started out as a woman. I saw him on TV after all this was done, and he or she had a beard. Not that this proves anything. These days, gender traits that were once dispositive are merely considered clues.

Here’s what you have to wonder. What was going on in the mind of the doctor who approved the second surgery? They always claim they’re super-careful about whom they select. No, it’s not like they just run a bunch of phony psych tests for CYA purposes, while their main interest is your ability to pay. Don’t even think that. They’re experts! They have ethics! So when a guy (or whatever) shows up and says he or it wants a second surgery, shouldn’t some bells go off somewhere? And if the second surgery was okay ethically, wasn’t the first surgery malpractice or something? Maybe the doctor who approved it needs career reassignment surgery.

What did this person say to the doctor? “I’m a man trapped in the body of a woman who used to be a man…I’m pretty sure”? Did that actually fly with whoever made the decision to operate?

If life is this weird now, what’s it going to be like ten years from now? Will drug abuse still exist? Why would people pay for drugs when the world is already a nonstop acid trip?

Aaron has noted that the Talmud says the Biblical flood occurred when man offended God by sanctioning gay marriage and marriage between humans and animals. I remember writing a piece a long time ago, in which I pointed out that, absent Biblical prohibitions, there is no valid reason to ban bestiality. I’m serious. You can’t claim animals never consent, or that they always suffer. It should be obvious without proof that there are perverts who can get animals to participate enthusiastically in their pursuits. Come on, think about it. Some guy taught a squirrel to water ski. That has to be harder than wooing a goat. I defy you to make a squirrel do anything.

You can cite some goofy, effete concern about “unequal bargaining positions” or an animal’s inability to give “informed” consent. But that’s all sophistry, i.e. absurdly transparent and tendentious pretextual lies. Animals don’t consent to be turned into purses or Jell-O or soap, but we still do it. We make horses carry us around. We make elephants do silly things at the circus. Animal consent has never been taken seriously by human beings, and it never will be. Not until we can grow ham in a windowbox.

Incest can’t be banned, either. Not purely on public interest grounds. There’s a small chance that two siblings will have deformed kids, but if you think about it, that’s not a sufficient reason to ban incest. If it were, the abortion of deformed babies would be mandatory, and even Obama hasn’t suggested that (yet). People with genetic diseases would be subject to forced sterilization. And what about siblings who are already sterile? Why should they be kept apart? The reason for banning incest is that it’s immoral and perverted, because God said so. And even that prohibition was not always in place. Abraham was the half-brother of Sarah. On Father’s Day, they must have saved a bundle. “This is from both of us. P.S. Quit worshiping Nannar.”

I shudder to think of the flavors Ben & Jerry’s will be pushing in the future. Chunky Monkey Hubby. Phish Fiancee. Eric the Half a Bee Motel Six Raspberry Swirl.

That last one was a reach.

Maybe the Rapture won’t be a dramatic and solemn event, the way Christians assume it will. Maybe it will be more like stopping the ride so the sane people can get off.

I hope Haagen-Dazs doesn’t come out in favor of pedophilia or snuff films or anything. A while back, a Christian company tried to put premium ice cream on the market, but for some reason, it didn’t work out. If Haagen-Dazs starts backsliding, I may have to give up ice cream and demonstrate a little character.

I don’t think anyone wants to see that happen.

Eat This at Your Tacky IKEA Table

I just read the story about Ben & Jerry’s renaming one of their flavors “Hubby Hubby,” in support of gay marriage.

This is bad, but then I already knew these people were nuts. I remember when Ben drove around the country with a very non-green propane-powered parade float behind his gas-guzzling truck, depicting a giant pair of pants. The idea was that these were George Bush’s pants and that they were on fire. Witty. I still can’t think of any lies that were pinned to George Bush. The yellowcake thing turned out to be true, and if he was wrong about WMD, it was a mistake, not a lie. Kind of impressive, if you think about it. Anyway, it looks like I’m going to have to cut Ben & Jerry’s completely out of my diet. No more Cherry Garcia. No more Heath Bar Crunch. Sad. Not that I needed it.

This was a bad move, regardless of morality. I think it’s fair to say that most straight men don’t want the image of gay snugglebunnies in their minds when they’re trying to eat.

Haagen-Dazs is better, anyway. Ben & Jerry’s is full of chemicals, or at least it was the last time I checked. Read the label.

I wish the local pizzerias and Chinese restaurants would come out in favor of gay marriage. I’d drop thirty pounds.

Prime!

Super Costco score today. Rib eye steaks, boneless…PRIME…$7.79 a pound. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. You have to buy a whole roast to get that price. This is a problem? Not the way I see it.

Let’s all pause and salute the man who invented the vacuum sealer.

These babies will be sitting in the fridge until next Monday, at which time they’ll be sliced, labeled, sealed, and consigned to the bowels of the deep freeze. I could dry-age them, but it’s a pain.

The country is circling the drain. Thank God there are perks.

I Hope

I live for Saturday. Or at least I used to. I watched my calories all week, and then on Saturday, I let it all hang out. And I always started with a big greasy McDonald’s breakfast. It was a major event in my week. When I went to bed on Friday nights, I would lie there and think about breakfast.

This week I fasted, and when it was over with, I just didn’t seem to be as interested in food as I had been before. I tried to celebrate the end of the fast by stuffing myself, but I couldn’t finish the junk I got for myself. Yesterday, it continued. I didn’t get particularly hungry, and I didn’t feel shaky or weak or crabby. Last night I felt as if the trend would continue in the morning. I wondered if that could be true.

Today I got up and found I had no interest in McDonald’s. Instead I decided to take my dad to breakfast, and I had a nova platter. Not asceticism by any means, but very modest compared to McMuffins, oily biscuits, and deep-fried potatoes. Not to mention the large Coke I did not drink. I just used the McDonald’s website to calculate the calorie total of my usual meal, and it’s about 1600.

I’m not sure that I feel quite as relaxed as I did over the last couple of days. If I’ve lost anything, I want to get it back. I am willing to fast again. I am almost eager to do it. That’s amazing. It’s like looking forward to a root canal.

Skinny people claim fat people have no discipline, but that’s deceptive, because skinny people have no discipline, either, and they’re still skinny. Fat people are different. Something drives us. After a fat person has had more than enough, something still makes him crave one more biscuit. One more slice of pizza.

Are there spirits that cause it? Could be. They exist, and they do affect our behavior. Whatever the explanation is, I feel a lot better than I did a week ago. This is one of those blessings you hesitate to believe in, because it’s so big, it would be terrible to see it turn out to be a mirage. I would love knowing I would never have to have two sets of clothes. There are so many annoying things about being overweight, even if you’re not obese. Thin people can’t understand. It would be fantastic if I could forget about dieting for the rest of my life. I would love knowing I would never have to face the discouragement of relapse ever again. And the health benefits would be welcome. I don’t want to end up on blood pressure pills or insulin. I want my back to be strong and pain-free, and I don’t want plastic knees. I want to know that fat won’t slowly destroy my brain by cutting off my air as I sleep.

We’ll see how it goes. I hope I end up with a testimony that can help other people with their failings.

My Unlikeliest Hobby

I thought this morning it might be interesting to ask about people’s experiences with fasting.

Fasting is a necessary part of Christian life. The New Testament makes it clear over and over. I cannot say I am thrilled about it. Anyone who has been reading my writing for more than six months knows I like food. After all, I wrote the world’s unhealthiest cookbook. In the minds of many Christians, whether or not they acknowledge it, overeating is the one physical pleasure God doesn’t restrict, so they cram the food in with both hands. And many of us fast pretty badly. We do things like going a whole day eating only nuts. That’s not much of a fast. Nuts are little packages of fat and carbs. If you want to eat something higher in calories than nuts, you pretty much have to chew sticks of butter.

I have also heard of people fasting with regard to certain foods, like meat or soft drinks. Again, not very impressive. I can go a day without meat and eat like a king. Cheese pizza has no meat in it. Neither does apple pie. Now I’m making myself hungry, and all I have in front of me is oatmeal.

I guess I cite Perry Stone a lot these days. I can’t help it. I really enjoy his work. His take on halfhearted fasting is that God notices it, but that real fasting is better. I guess that must be right. The Bible is full of things that could be considered partial fasts. Samson could not drink wine. The Jews have kashrut. And Jews have all sorts of temporary dietary and behavioral restrictions they observe during the year. I can’t say a partial fast is a bad thing, but surely, when you want real results, you’re better off doing it right.

The Jews don’t even drink water during their fasts. That’s pretty tough. The Bible says Jesus went forty days. Did that include refusing water? If so, wow. I just checked a survival site which lists 10 days as a likely estimate of the time it takes to die from thirst.

I fast on occasion, although I drink water, and sometimes I permit myself unsweetened, no-calorie liquids. While many people talk about how fasting makes them feel close to God, I find that it makes me feel farther away. My head hurts. I don’t think well. I get depressed and anxious. When I pray, I feel alone. The first day is the worst. The second day is not fun. I can’t remember what the third day is like, because it has been a very long time since I went three days. They say things get better once your body adjusts.

Am I the only one who feels this way? They say fasting is a method of afflicting yourself, so I suppose it would make sense. I find that I don’t feel like praying when I fast, because the effort of concentration is too unpleasant. I try to force myself. I often do a poor job.

My best guess about fasting is that there are two types. First, maintenance fasting. You fast once in a while, even when things are going well, just because you should. Second, fasting in order to get help with a problem. Maybe someone gets sick or your business is in trouble or you can’t get along with your wife. You fast and pray to get God to fix it. Maybe the type of fasting Jesus did is a third type. Fasting to change your character permanently and make you a better person.

I don’t like to talk about things I do which could be considered pious or righteous, except in a general way. If I do something good, I want to be sure I didn’t do it so people would hear about it and tell me how great I am. But I think that sometimes it’s okay to mention things, if I think it can help other people.

I fasted recently, and now that it’s over, I have a surprising result. I don’t feel like the same person. There are certain bad things I feel much less inclined to do, and I don’t understand it. Here’s a funny example. At the end of the fast, I got myself some ice cream, because I was very eager to put the fast behind me, feel normal again, and have a little reward. But I didn’t finish the ice cream. I ended up throwing out part of it. I don’t know if you can understand how odd it is for me to buy a pint of ice cream and not finish it. Especially after a fast. But it happened.

I feel more relaxed. More certain about the future. Less concerned about fulfilling my earthly desires. Less angry. This is the first time I’ve ever noticed any difference in me after a fast. Is this the reward we should be shooting for when we fast, or am I just having a temporary change in mood?

From reading the Bible, I get the impression that fasting is supposed to purify us. Not just fasting, but periods of deprivation, generally. For example, the Jews wandered in the desert for forty years, and when they emerged, they had been cleansed of the individuals who offended God by refusing to trust him. Jesus emerged from his forty-day fast in the desert (preceded by his baptism with water and the Holy Spirit) with new power. He started working miracles and teaching with authority. Maybe fasting is supposed to rid us of inclinations (whether our own or imposed by hostile spirits) that drive us to sin.

I’m not saying I’m totally repaired now, but I can see a difference in myself, and it’s significant. I almost hate to say this, but for the first time in my life, I find myself somewhat eager to fast again, to see what else I can get out of it. I don’t like to think about unpleasant duties, because I’m always afraid God will start urging me to do them. When I consider fasting, I find myself hoping God won’t get on board and motivate me to do it, because it’s so unpleasant. But if I can expect it to change me like this, it will be hard to resist.

As for my infatuation with food, I’m starting to wonder if stuffing myself is like getting drunk. It’s okay to have a beer. Drunkenness is a sin. Maybe food works the same way. I hope not! But it probably does. The Bible condemns gluttony over and over. The book of Proverbs says it leads to poverty.

Gluttony is a tough thing to beat, because you can’t give up food entirely, so the temptation will always be in front of you. And gluttony comes over you while you’re eating in a compelling way, as if you’re changing into another person. It’s not a mild urging. It’s extremely powerful. While you’re under its spell, it’s as if your entire personality and all your priorities have changed.

I still think it’s okay to have good food, but it would be nice if, for the rest of my life, I could stop eating when I’ve had enough instead of when I can’t jam any more in or when the waitress hits me with pepper spray. I’ve been behaving well lately, but on Saturdays I give my diet a rest, and there have been excesses.

If anyone who reads this has any input regarding their own fasting experiences, I would love to have some comments about it. This might be a very big deal and an extremely useful practice, if the benefits I perceive are real and lasting. Over and over, we are told we’re supposed to fast, but the things I’ve read about the beneficial results are extremely vague and unconvincing. If it can change a person’s character, it’s not just a good idea; it’s a gift the value of which cannot be overstated.

I believe in free will. So do most Christians. Aaron says the Jews believe you can enter a state in which you have no free will. That makes sense to me. I don’t think it’s wrong to say a crack addict or even a cigarette smoker has lost his or her free will. At the very least, they are subject to extreme temptation, the likes of which non-addicts don’t face. Perhaps one of the purposes of fasting is to rid yourself of compulsions you can’t resist. Maybe this is why Jesus had to fast for forty days before he was given real power. If that is true, then presumably, a modern Christian can get God’s power by fasting. God prefers not to hand out machine guns to monkeys. Power without self-control destroys us. Maybe we are supposed to fast in order to render ourselves suitable to receive increased strength and blessings. That would be fine with me. Fighting my own nature with my own nature is a tough battle, as is fighting adversity with my limited tools. I want all the help I can get.

I used to think the baptism of the Spirit and prayer in tongues were the main things that changed people’s natures, but I think I’ll have to add fasting to that list. I would rather add fishing or going to the gun range or eating pie, but I don’t make the rules.

This may be a big, big deal. Let me know what you think.

Funny how I happened to write this during the forty Days of Teshuvah.

Lethal

I decided to avoid canning my peppers. I am fermenting them instead.

If you’ve ever tried kim chi, you know what I’m talking about. If you ferment vegetables with lactobacillus, they develop a nice sour taste and lots of aroma. Tabasco sauce is fermented, if the label is correct. I thought this would be better than using vinegar to give the peppers flavor.

It took me nearly forever, but I seeded a big pile of Tobago seasoning peppers, and I ran them through a food processor. I added garlic, a little water, some salt, some sugar, and some yogurt with live cultures.

When all is said and done, I think the product I’ll end up with will be inferior to the stuff I’ve made with Home Depot cayennes. Those peppers are naturally sweet and full of flavor. These are hot and less sweet, and the flavor doesn’t compare. The appeal of exotic peppers is not entirely based on reason. Some are fantastic, and some are just okay. If an ordinary cayenne is better, might as well admit it.

I read a couple of interesting things today. First, I saw part of an abstract from a medical journal, and it claimed fermented peppers in very small amounts inhibited weight gain. Wonder if that’s true. In a related matter, I saw a very disturbing article that says being obese or even slightly overweight can cause serious brain damage. Like I need that.

Here’s an excerpt:

A new study finds obese people have 8 percent less brain tissue than normal-weight individuals. Their brains look 16 years older than the brains of lean individuals, researchers said today.

Those classified as overweight have 4 percent less brain tissue and their brains appear to have aged prematurely by 8 years.

I have often criticized smokers who took up the habit or refused to quit after the cancer risk became known. Now the tables are turned. Will I be better than the people I looked down on? I sure hope so. I don’t want my brain to turn into Jell-O. I hope I still have a few working cells in place.

Something to think about, if you’re overweight.

In these Days of Teshuvah leading up to Yom Kippur, I am trying to repent of irresponsibility and laziness. I realize Gentiles are not bound by the Jewish law, but that’s beside the point. You shouldn’t have to be forced to do something which is obviously intelligent and pleasing to God. I see the peppers and limes I’m harvesting, and I feel like my obligation to be a good steward extends to them. I’m trying to put them to use. I managed to give some peppers away, too.

I am starting to remind myself of the old mountain women I knew when I was younger. They gardened. They ran small businesses. They did handicrafts. They went to church. They raised kids. They were like the righteous woman of Proverbs 30. I realize the comparison is a little off, because I’m a man, but the principles are the same. I’ve known a number of women like that, but the men tended to have fewer interests, as they devoted themselves to their jobs.

I am so much better than I used to be. I have a long way to go, but I’m glad I’m not what I was.

I’ll report on the peppers when and if they ferment.

Maybe it’s a Hin

I am going to have to get a canner. I don’t know what else to do. I have read up on storing peppers, and while I think it’s okay to put them in vinegar and salt and refrigerate them for a few weeks, I can’t trust them for months or years. I just picked maybe a gallon of Tobago seasoning peppers off my tiny bush, and I left maybe 25% of the crop behind. I haven’t gone near the Trinidad Scorpions or Habanero Golds.

I never know whether to capitalize the names of fruit and vegetable varieties, so instead of taking three seconds to check, I have decided to capitalize randomly.

With any luck, I’ll also have lychees before too long, and I know they can be canned. And then there’s mango chutney.

Geez. Thank God you don’t have to can limes.

In a comment, Heather complimented me on my new gardening “abilities,” and Andrea Harris (no link due to impossibility of finding her blog) said she couldn’t believe I grew herbs in Miami. Hey, don’t fool yourselves. I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’m just glad I realized you don’t have to cut a whole bunch of bananas at once. These days I’m cutting off one hand at a time, so the rest stay fresh on the tree instead of all ripening within the same three-hour period.

Here are the Tobago peppers. Canning tips appreciated.

Can’t Keep Up

I am going through one of those times when you have to remind yourself that you will eventually be rewarded if you are treated badly.

As usual, I can’t give details. I find myself in a position where I’m being punished for trying to fix someone else’s mess. Barring divine intervention, it’s going to get much, much worse before it gets better. That’s all I can say. Remembering that someone is keeping accounts makes it a lot easier.

I am here because I wanted to put this up, regarding Heather’s mom:

Penny’s kidney function has deteriorated to 15%!
Her blood pressure has been up slightly today as well.
Please ask for her kidneys to healed.
Thanks & God Bless,
Heather

Reader Ruth says:

I have a prayer request for a friend of mine. She was just diagnosed with stage 4 lobular breast cancer. A devious one that is not seen with mammograms. It has spread to lymph glands and bones. Not a good prognosis.
I hate to lay another cancer on your prayer lists. but here it is. Her name is Sharon W. Her attitude is either denial or complete acceptance, I think the latter and she has a cheerful heart.

I didn’t want to put these up on or near a weekend. No one reads blogs on those days.

Today I’ve been putting lime juice up. The trees will not leave me alone. I put up a cup of key lime juice and over a cup of Persian lime juice. I freeze it in vacuum bags. I don’t know what to do with it.

I read something interesting last week. I forget where. Maybe Robert Morris. In the Bible, Jesus criticized certain people for tithing on things they had grown, like herbs, while forgetting things that were more important. I had not noticed that Jesus approved of the business with the herbs. He said something like, “this, you should have done.” Look it up. All I have ever noticed was the part about ignoring the weightier things. So it seems to me that it would be a good thing if I could give away some of the stuff I grow. I have given some away to the only person I know who can use it, but I am probably pulling 20 limes and a dozen key limes every week, and it piles up. I’m thinking of suggesting my church set aside a place where people can bring excess produce.

I also have enough rosemary to stuff a couch. And oregano. And thyme. And I don’t even want to talk about peppers. My banana trees are threatening to bury me in fruit over the next few months. You can only eat so many bananas without going insane.

I have to do something with the prig ki nu peppers I picked. I think I’m going to go to the store and buy a gallon of white vinegar. I have read that it prevents mold, unlike the lime juice I used to soak peppers in. Maybe I can get away with putting peppers in the fridge in vinegar and salt.

The dragonfruit is trying again. The fruit keep falling off. I hope this latest bud amounts to something. It might help if I took a shotgun and blasted the weedeater out of the yard guy’s hands.

I have papayas coming out of my ears, but they just don’t taste good. I should let the Salvadorans clean off the trees the next time they cut the grass.

Man, I miss the mangoes.

I’m off.

More

I had two bags of prig ki nu peppers. I had separated the red from the green. I just hit the grocery and brought back a jug of vinegar. I mixed it with salt, and I stuck the peppers in separate squeeze bottles and added the salted vinegar, plus some garlic. I didn’t have enough red peppers to fill a bottle, so I went outside for ten minutes and picked 0.0001% of the peppers on the prig ki nu bush. Now I have plenty.

I have a ton of Tobago seasoning peppers and habanero golds that are going to go to waste if I don’t do something, so I’m going to freeze a bunch of them.

Now all I have to remember is that I can’t put my hand anywhere near my eyes for two weeks.