But It's a Dry Heat!

They're not very strange.

You know, as "dry" as the alien hive the space marines infiltrate in Aliens (1986); that kind of dry heat. The intrepid Two Old Farts (friend Diefenbaker—a.k.a. Scott—and I) got together this morning at Tanglewood Park, just southwest of Winston-Salem, NC, to hunt a few geocaches (sadly minus our favorite short women geocachers, Fishdownthestair—a.k.a. Natalie—and Cupdaisy—a.k.a. Debbie, for they were indisposed—a.k.a. chickened out). Scott and I put in well over six miles on the trail in temps that reached the very high 90s, with a heat index of 106℉, so I suspect we sweated off a few pounds of otherwise healthy brain cells. Whew! We found seven caches, all of them a lot of fun. And we both survived, at least until we parted company after lunch. I dunno about later.

Speaking of lunch, we found a mighty good one at Ma'Luz Mexcican Grill (formerly MiPueblo). Street tacos are one of my most profound weaknesses, and their brisket street tacos almost had me swooning. Or maybe that was the margarita.

Nah, it was the tacos.

Last night, we hosted our regular Supper Club, with friends Terry & Beth and Joe & Suzy in attendance. I made Thai Basil Chicken, one of my staple dishes. Since we don't have any Thai restaurants nearby anymore, when we want Thai food, I head for the kitchen...

T'was all good. Imma fall over now.

Brugger caught the Supper Club crowd in its native environment.

Christmas Comes to Supper Club

Throughout the year, our good friends, Joe & Suzy and Terry & Beth, get together with Brugger & me for a regular, (almost) monthly dinner & drink gathering we simply call "Supper Club." We alternate hosting the gathering at our respective residences, but Terry & Beth pretty much have dibs on December, since it's Beth's favorite time to entertain. Last night was this year's Christmas Supper Club.

As it happened, friends Natalie and Scott, of the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars geocaching team, were both available for a day of geocaching (an all-too-rare event these days), so we met in Winston-Salem yesterday morning, hiked and drove, and drove and hiked, and found a good many caches. Then we split up and I buzzed over to Kernersville to Terry & Beth's place. It wasn't long before our dinner gathering was complete, and out came the wine.

So, so much wine, including several of the bottles that we brought back from our Pacific Northwest/Alaska trip back in the fall.

Beth's dinner, as always, rocked rockets. Onion tarts, ham & cheese sliders, BBQ chicken sliders, veggies, cheeses, and other small plate fare, plus eclairs and chocolate for dessert. Much later in the evening, we went out among the natives to gawk at the neighborhood's impressive Christmas decorations. It wasn't really a caroling outing, but some in the area might mention that they heard somebody belting out the happy strains of "Timothy," by the Buoys (1971), which is easily the best song about cannibalism ever to hit the American Top 40. Okay, it may not be a Christmas carol, but it's kind of about feasting and celebrating, and we were starting to get hungry again.

Another Some Week!

Odd old dude at Casa di Rodan

I’m finding time to get on here to blather about my world and welcome to it about once a week now, usually when things are winding down on Sunday evening. Apart from the day job, I devoted most of this past week to home renovation — both here and at my late brother’s place in Winston-Salem — with the merest smidgen of writing and geocaching thrown in. Here at home, I got the stairway banisters painted, the kitchen trim touched up, and the outdoors neatened up a bit. Tuesday after work and on Saturday during the day, Ms. B. and I spent a passel o’ time putting what I hope are the finishing touches on Phred’s property before listing it for sale.

Last night, we got together with our once-regular Supper Club group — friends Terry, Beth, Joe, and Suzy — for the first official Supper Club event since the pandemic began. Beth prepared a feast for us at their place, and the wine flowed perhaps a little too freely. This, at least, did make for a nice break in the all-but-nonstop work schedule this week.

Brugger and I knew we’d have to replace the range here in the not-too-distant future, but we were hoping to hold off on it for a bit. However, Friday evening, I was cooking up some dead bird in the oven, and when I opened the door to check it, I realized things appeared a bit brighter than usual in there. That’s because the heating element was on fire. Happily, I managed to save the chicken wings and finish cooking them in the skillet. They turned out grand. But the burned-out oven meant going ahead and getting a new range. It was supposed to arrive this afternoon, so first thing after getting out of bed this morning, I headed over to High Point to snag a handful of caches. That done, I entertained thoughts of picking up a couple of more in nearby Thomasville, but I was getting hungry, so I opted to come on home. Good thing I did because I had just arrived back here when the guys from Lowe’s called to let me know they were on their way with the new range. It’s a right nice range, and I managed to operate it this evening without starting any fires. I had been needing to re-season my cast-iron skillet, so I managed to get that done as well.

Brugger came round this afternoon, just after the range arrived, to further the home renovation cause. That lasted well into the evening, so we ordered dinner from Grand China and watched a few episodes of M*A*S*H. I would have said that was a pleasant, fitting end for things, but once Brugger got home, she discovered she has what is likely a septic tank problem. A pretty ugly one, at that. Ick and double ick.

Anyhoo, coming up this week...another rugged-ass week. May the lord bless and keep you and all that.

The nice natural area behind my brother’s place, now much nicer after a devoted effort
clearing out scrub and such

Phred’s patio area, which had been almost completely overgrown, now cleared and ready
for some as-yet-unknown someone to enjoy hanging out and drinking wine

Spiders, Food Lion Fails, and Zooming Through Lockdown

The Supper Club Flash Mob

As with many places around the globe, our area is pretty much in lockdown but for essential outings and such. Fortunately, at least for the time being, there are enough "essential" activities that allow one to get out of the house while remaining all but risk-free of infection. This evening, since our regular Supper Club gang couldn't physically get together, we spent a pleasant hour or so video yakking on Zoom. That turned out to be a remarkably fun treat for the lot of us. Under the circumstances, for me, a little Tempranillo went a long way.

Last night, I headed up to Martinsville to the old homestead, as there was necessary business to handle. But it was also pleasant since, for me, the seclusion there feels deeper, more profound than it does here in Greensboro. Unfortunately, I did have to stop at the neighborhood Food Lion to snag a few supplies, and...hooooey...was that ever a bad idea. Although Martinsville is not currently experiencing a major Corona virus outbreak, prudent safety measures only make sense, and it appeared that not a living soul in the store was taking this to heart. No personal buffer zones, no sanitary wipes to be found, filthy dirty grocery carts... holy shit, I probably should have just vacated the premises. As it was, I wiped down the cart with my own sanitizer supply, forced myself away from encroaching human animals, and then, once back at the house, literally bleached every container I had. Although I undertook every possible safety measure I could, I don't have a good feeling about that experience. Not at all.

Back at the homestead, I had a hankering to watch The Sound of Music, which triggers some very deep—and very pleasant—personal memories. For that reason, it's not a movie I can be objective about.  I'm pretty sure I know far more non-fans than fans of this movie. Ms. B. is not a fan. I would certainly never ask her to watch it with me. Regardless, last night, it hit the right spot at just the right time. For this, I am pleased.

After the filum, I set foot out on the back porch, and what should I encounter but a couple of the biggest, meanest-looking multi-legged critters ever to grace the homestead (and we get quite a few of them there). Fishing spiders, best as I can determine; easily a five-inch legspan on the bigger of the two. Actually, they turned out to be neighborly enough—well-tempered and reasonably polite. And they sat still long enough for me to get some decent pics and video.

I hit the road for home around 11:00 this morning, stopping in Eden at the Smith River Greenway to get in some much-needed hiking and exercise. Some while back, regular geocaching partner, Ms. Fishdownthestair, had hidden a few caches along the greenway and asked if I'd mind checking her coordinates prior to her publishing them, as she had some doubts as to their accuracy. Well, of course I did not mind, so I hiked, snagged a few Munzees along the way, and verified that the lady's coords were good. Although a good many living humans were out and about on the trail, my course largely kept me away from them. That was nice.

I did end up watching an utterly wretched horror movie called The Hallows this evening. Easily the most annoying film I've seen since The Babadook, which at least had a reasonably engaging story. I should have heeded my instinct to shut the damned thing off halfway through.

The possibility of some hiking and caching tomorrow does exist, so one can hope.

Stay safe, y'all.

Old dude enjoying some outdoor isolation

View of the Smith River from the greenway. Somewhat high water.

Haunting Reidsville Again

This one is just a quick personal memoir. After returning to Greensboro from a nice visit with Mom yesterday, I set to work turning Casa de Rodan into a proper haunted house for the evening's supper club gathering — putting the jack-o'-lanterns (Ernst and Emilio) into their proper outdoor perches, laying out interior decorations to horrify the unwary guest, and getting dinner (authentic Mexican tacos with chicken and chorizo) underway. We ended up with the full gang in attendance, which made for a somewhat crowded house, but everything came together well enough. After dinner, we had the annual celebratory viewing of It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which means that Halloween can actually happen now. It was clearly quite fun for Joe Albanese, who hadn't seen the show since childhood. Mortifying, I know.

After the gathering broke up, Ms. B. and I inaugurated the fire pit I had won at the office Employee Appreciation Day back in the spring. Very pleasant out there, to be sure, despite getting dribbled on by a bit of rain.

This morning, Bloody Rob and Bridget came round so that we could hit the road and snag a few caches up Reidsville way. I only needed three, which I found, but because I'm the nicest rotten bastard geocacher in town, I took them around to get a bunch of others I had picked up on past excursions. Happily, I was rewarded with a fantastic lunch at The Celtic Fringe, where I had chicken wings with their ultra-potent Welsh Dragon sauce.

Something tells me I'm going to be having leftover chicken tacos for dinner tonight.

Just a few goodies for anyone feeling peckish before dinner last night

Ernst, standing vigil as the guests began to arrive

A couple of ghouls searching for delectables around the old Governor Reid house in Reidsville