Friday, November 19, 2004

It's That Time of Year Again

How to make deep-fried turkey instructions can be found here and here, the last one includes a recipe for the seasoning.


Wednesday, September 22, 2004


Instead of trying to do something elaborate here, I am going to stick with what I do naturally. Telling stories.

My favorite story about my grandfather:
When I was little, I remember sitting in my grandparents' kitchen and coloring in a coloring books. It is possible that the coloring book came with me on the trip, but it is possible that it came instead from the toy cupboard. The toy cupboard was a fantastic place. I don't know what was originally stored there, but it became the place to keep toys for the grandkids. My grandfather sat down next to me and watched me color for a little while. I had carefully outlined the shapes in crayon and was filling them in, moving the crayon back and forth across the surface.

"When I was your age, we didn't color like that," he said.

I didn't reply, but switched the movement of my crayon to an up-and-down motion. He watched for a second.

"When I was your age, we didn't color like that," he repeated.

Again, I switched, this time to diagonal.

"When I was your age, we didn't color like that."

I had almost exhausted my options, but switched to a round-and-round motion.

"When I was your age..."

In my best exasperated child voice, I said, "Well Grandpa? How DID you color when you were my age??"

"Well, I didn't use all different ways like that, I picked one and stuck with it!"


My grandfather's favorite story about me:
They had taken me to the grocery store with them, and as they went through the checkout line they gave me some money for the gumball/toy machines near the door. I don't remember how much money they gave me, but it gave me the option to get gum or a toy, and several different options of toys. At three years old, this was a monumental decision. By the time they finished paying for the groceries and got out to where I was standing, the money was still in my hand. As soon as they were in earshot I blurted out:

"These machines are driving me CRAZY!!"


We weren't ready for my grandfather to pass away. He had always been a central reason why it was more fun to spend time with my family than go to the movies. My uncle thought for a year or more that a-g-i-l-e was pronounced "a gill" because my grandfather thought it would be funny to see if he would believe it. This was before the phrase "Is that right mother??" was commonplace in their household.

He played baseball with his kids after dinner in the side yard, a place we probably should have been playing baseball when my brother managed to hit one right through their plate glass window.

I remember at Christmas having a song stuck in my head (as I often do) dancing in place to it in my uncle's kitchen. When I looked up, my grandfather was dancing in place to the same rhythm, just because I was. I started laughing and promptly forgot what song was in my head, but we kept on dancing anyway. Like I said, more fun than the movies. Certainly stranger.

Grandpa was always smiling, always shaking his fist in a mock-threatening manner, would always make editorial comments about things going on around us - just like I do. We all have stories that capture a part of him, and we're lucky in that respect. But we still weren't ready. He was Enright, Chuck, Charlie, and Finn. He was Grandpa.

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

I'm Going to Have to Call You Back

Alrighty, so I have been meaning to really write, but obviously I'm just putting too much pressure on myself. So for now, I'll just get something here so I don't look so lazy. (Oh, it's much too late for that.)

I was on my way home the other night and saw a Cyclist up ahead. You know, he's not riding a bike he's cycling. He has the spandex shorts, the spandex jersey, the funny little shoes, the helmet, the sunglasses, and as I pass him, I realize he's talking on a cell phone. What sort of a conversation is this guy having? Those numbers (huff puff) sounds good Bob (huff puff) but I'll have to (huff puff) call you back after I (huff puff) get up this hill.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Life in the Kingdom

As far as turn-based games online go, there is none finer than The Kingdom of Loathing. Where else can you become a Disco Bandit, fighting things like Baseball Bats (a creature with bat wings and a baseball for a body) and P Imps (in the Copse of the Deep Fat Friars)? My current questing takes me into the Palindrome, where every creature is (you guessed it) spelled the same forwards as it is backwards. The only problem now is that when I run out of adventures I am very very sad. So, I do the sensible thing and get my character falling down drunk.

Monday, April 26, 2004

For Your Information

In answer to my dad's question of the other night, gas in Raleigh is running about $1.68 for regular unleaded. It doesn't change the fact that I still have to put gas in my car when it runs out. And driving to Raleigh just to fill up your car would NOT save you any money.

Friday, April 02, 2004

Don't Look Now, But I'm Back

Ever feel like you've simply run out of stuff to talk about? Seriously, I have been wanting to send email to my friends for the longest time, but I didn't because they would just be so boooooring. Got up today, went to work, came home, made dinner, played a computer game. That's what I did yesterday, too. The fun just never ends, does it? But, I decided that if I don't keep writing I'll never get back in the habit.

Wednesday, I was driving to work and I was behind a Ford Econoline van. Now, this particular make and model holds special significance to me since we had one for a good portion of our family vacations. My father never called it a van, though, it was always a "truck". Pointing out to him that if it were a truck it would have a truck license plate was an exercise in futility. Pretending not to know where to go when he said, "Come on everybody, get in the truck," was equally pointless. The van I was behind the other day, however, would have gotten some cool points even from my dad. Above the back door handle were the stick-on kind of letters that you buy to put on your mailbox. They said: VANACONDA