Who Doesn't Have Freeze-Dried Coffee!

I recently  received this cup of coffee at 211 Cafe, just off the square in Bentonville, Arkansas.  Mauricio is a master barista.  At minimum he's a nice guy, knows a lot about coffee and serves up a very fine fresh-roasted cup of it made from Guatemalan  beans.  A cup of coffee like this won't come cheap, but in my view, it's well worth the extra buck or so.

The next time you're in the neighborhood, stop in the 211 for a good cup of coffee.  Unless of course you don't drink coffee e.g.:  "You don't have any coffee? How about instant coffee? You don't have any instant coffee? Who doesn't have instant coffee?  You buy a jar of it, take it home, put it in the cupboard and it's there when you need it.  It last forever.  It's Folgers, freeze-dried crystals!"

Anyway, you know what I'm getting at.  I'll keep you posted....

Deer Stabbing?

There's something to be said for a good ax, a good coat and a good friend.  I'm fortunate to have a few of each, although of the 3 categories, I have fewer coats than axes or friends.  That's not a bad situation to be in!

Next weekend, 2 of my good friends, Tony and George, will be at the cabin for some bow-hunting and campfire telling of tall tales.  George hates the whitetail deer more than just about anyone I know, as evidenced by the fact that he wants to kill nearly every one he ever sees.

Tony doesn't hate the deer as much as his son George, but then again, from what I hear, he rarely passes on the opportunity to whack one himself.  Rumor has it that he once tried to "harvest" a deer with his hunting knife.  (Yes, a hunting knife, and apparently a not-very-sharp one at that.)

My sense is that most people who are capable of getting close enough to a deer to kill it with a knife, would choose instead to shoot the darn thing with a gun.  Not Tony.  On at least one occasion (that he told anyone about) he chose to try to take one out with a semi-sharp hunting knife.  Forget the fact that he had a deer rifle in the other hand and enough bullets to take out an entire herd of deer.  For some reason (maybe because he was so stinking close) he thought it would make more sense to stab it with a knife than to shoot it with a gun; like most of the regular people who hunt deer.

Anyway, not to worry as the deer in question eventually died of old age before Tony was able to stick the knife in far enough to do much damage.  Out of the ordinary?  Some would say so.

Anyway, it will be my intent to keep you posted on these type events and any other stories involving outdoor apparel, sharp cutting instruments and friends who sometimes do weird things while in the woods...

 

Howard C French

According to Missouri folklore, you can never eat too much grilled ham.  Actually, I just made that up.  But now that I think about it, there may be something to that.

My good friend, Howard, of Rolla, Missouri fame, is somewhat of an expert when it comes to grilling ham.  I'm not sure where Howard acquired his pork-skills but I bet it was sometime between junior high and Dixon.  I'm guessing.

The key to ending up with world-class ham steaks is to not use charcoal lighter when trying to get your charcoal lit.  Howard says too much charcoal lighter will permeate the ham and the result will be a ham sandwich that taste something like the New Burg lunch ladies might have come up with back in the early 70's when they ran out of bread, butter, and pickle chips.  In other words, not too good.

I wonder what Howard is doing right now?  I bet he's considering putting Hollywood Squares on pause, getting up from his easy chair and heading into the kitchen to see if his Bride, Kerri, has any leftover ham steaks in a tupperware dish hidden at the back of the lunchmeat drawer.  If not, I'm guessing he'll just pour himself a bowl of cheerios, eat that, and then fall back asleep while his loyal bride changes the channel to something more exciting...like Wheel of Fortune.  I'm just guessing.

Anyway, on ham, 1970's game shows and Howard related stories, I'll try my best to keep you posted....

Paying Attention

This is what happens when you only halfway pay attention and give an answer to a question you heard only bits and pieces of.  Something we men began perfecting back in the days of Adam and Eve.

A few years ago my good friend, Anthony (the cat in the brown overalls), came home after a long week of business travel.  As the story goes, he was worn out and all he really wanted to do was relax in his recliner with a cold beer, a half dozen pickled eggs and a bag of BBQ potato chips.   His then 13 year old son (we'll call him "George") ran into the room and ask his Dad, what sounded to Anthony like, "Hey Dad, can I shoot some buckets in the backyard off the deck?" Anthony responded, "Sure George; have at it." What Anthony didn't know, because, remember, he was only halfway paying attention, was that his 13 year old son George had, in reality asked, "Hey Dad, can I shoot a buck in the backyard off the deck?"

Well, as you might have guessed by now, young George proceeded to do just what he'd received approval to do from his Ol' Pop:  Shoot a buck in the backyard off the deck.  Now, in many parts of the country this wouldn't have been a problem.  But for my friend, Anthony, it was not only a problem, it was a huge problem. Why? Because the Durrings didn't live on the outskirts of Dodge, Nebraska or any of the other numerous farming communities scattered across the Midwestern portion of this great nation of ours. No, not even close. The Durring family of 6 lived in an upscale gated community in the middle of the one of the fastest growing metropolitan areas in the United States of America.  To make matters worse, this deer was known throughout the neighborhood as "Henry the friendly Deer" and was loved by all those who had been fortunate enough to get close enough to pet him.

Anyway, as the old saying goes...stuff happens. Unfortunatley for Anthony, a local freelance reporter named Wogs Dandy had "coincidently" been hanging out in their neighbor's backyard in hopes of getting a picture of Henry, the super-friendly neighborhood deer, for a story he was doing on the domestication of previosly-wild and free range animals.  To make matters worse, Wog's cousin, Mitch Mitch, the local game warden, also "coincidentally" happened to be in the area. (He's the guy dragging the contraband deer.) Thus, the look of angst on Anthony's face when I snapped this picture on Nikon 5000D.

Fast forward to today and on the sordid side of the Durring Family History (which includes famous story lines like, "Honest officer: I thought the Seagull was a Canada Goose!" and "Did you just shoot me?"), this story is now in books!

Should any other Durring Family "wildlife violation stories" come up, I'll do my best to keep you posted...