Chicken Killer.

This is Casey, our 12 year old Husky/Mutt.  She is an old, sweet, partially toothless dog we have had for over 10 years.  Other than a serious vendetta against any and all squirrels, she has never hurt a soul.  She does enjoy an occasional role in dead fish or a slide through fresh manure.  Aside from that, the picture above is pretty much an action photo. 

Well, last Friday the old girl outdid herself.  She slipped out of the backyard through an open gate and proceeded to amble over to a neighbor's house two blocks away.  A batshit crazy neighbor.  With a poorly defended chicken coop.  The result wasn't pretty (I know because Ms. Batshit showed Mrs. French pics of Casey's handiwork. Two dead chickens, a three day trip to the County Pound, several hundred dollars in fines, and a sign in our window that looks like this:

That's right- our county considers dogs that kill chickens to be every bit as dangerous as dogs that bite kids.  It's more a case of the law not catching up to the idea of urban chicken coops than any conspiracy, but at least we don't have to worry about solicitors now.

We initially felt awful about the whole thing; we assumed the chicken owner would have young kids, and we were worried we wouldn't get Casey back.  It turns out Huskies LOVE to kill chickens, according to the folks at Animal Control (who found the whole episode a bit silly).  Yesterday Batshit pulled up and began berating my bride about our deadly beast (I was gone at the time.  Getting  a massage.  My wife thinks this is pretty precious).  She is middle-aged.  And her kids are grown.  And she is openly trying to shake us down for her pain and suffering.  I seem to have lost a bit of my empathy.

It is really nice to have my old fat dog back.  And I am sorry about the chickens.  But I don't like the Chicken Lady.

Mr F

One of Portland's more interesting commuters

Last week we were cutting through a neighborhood to avoid rush hour traffic on the main arteries.  We saw this guy:

I managed a pretty sweet pic out the window of the car.  So, a unicycling juggler.  Probably standard issue for any circus, but there was not one in town.  Nor was he just practicing- we saw him well ahead of us, and he was making good time.  Plus, the backpack leads me to believe he was commuting, either to or from work.  If anyone I worked with ever showed up with a unicycle and juggling pin-thingys the rest of his co-workers should promptly stomp a puddle in him.  For reals.

I was brainstorming for a less efficient or more complicated method of transport:

1.  Ice skating on concrete while shuffling cards

2. Hopping on one foot while braiding your hair

3. Crawling on your knees while eating soup with chopsticks

Hell, I don't know.  This was just plain weird.

Mr. F

I've been gone for a while.....

Sorry for the lack of posts-life has caught up with me, and I am out of poop stories.  Hopefully I will get a few more soon.  I have been temporarily inspired though, and I think I am going to try to post more frequently on the things I see that are uniquely Portland or just plain strange wherever you are.  I believe I will start these posts with this one.

It was awkward to get a pic of two people making out, but trust me, they were unaware of the world around them.  Where were these lovebirds during their tryst?  Well, the coffee shop at Whole Foods, of course!  We stopped in at 5pm to get some stuff and ended up building big, healthy, and entirely unsatisfying salads to eat in their cafe.  As an aside, I have eaten a small plate of nachos and some chocolate milk since dinner in an attempt to fill the void.

On to Billy Bob and Angelina in the pic.  He was a grubby hairy dude, and so was she.  The pic looks like they may have been enjoying a simple kiss; oh no.  It was a full-on makeout session, with tons of tongue, caresses of the face, and some inappropriate touching.  We skipped out only moments before a game of "Just the Tip" most likely broke out.  I'm sure he was about to lay her down on that uncomfortable looking bench and get busy.  It was gross, but also really funny.  My bride and I traded jokes for a good long time.  She is convinced they were on ecstasy- I wonder if other users of X know how awesome the espresso bar at Whole Foods is for a good session of heavy petting in front of tons of old people and their kids?

This Is What Food Photography Should Look Like

I made quiche last night for the first time.  Here is a pic.

Yes, it is covered in Saran Wrap and partially eaten.  I didn't think to take a pic until late in the game.  Still, it looks stunning.  I could have taken a better one, but all quiche pretty much looks the same.  Plus, the plastic wrap is a great lead-in to my idea to start my own food blog- a blog about leftovers.  Yes, I will eat something, refrigerate it, eat it again, then report on it.  How about www.shitIateyesterdayand amnowsharingwiththeworld.blogspot.com.  That is not a real link, so don't click it. 

I have heard that is somehow effete for men to eat quiche, so maybe I should call it eggpie.  Nope, I'm sticking with quiche.  If you like quiche, you should give it a whirl.  Here is what I did:

Preheat oven to 350F

Dice some pancetta (or bacon) and cook it until crisp

Dice 1/2 onion and add to pancetta

Dice up 1 small red pepper, add after onion is starting to become clear

Add three cloves of chopped garlic to pan- cook another three minutes

In a large bowl, whisk six eggs until whisk-erific

Add the following:

1/4 cup sour cream

A big squirt of spicy mustard

A handful of shredded cheese

The stuff from the pan (pancetta, onion, pepper, garlic)

A handful of chopped spinach

A cup of chopped steamed broccoli

I used a pre-made spelt pie crust, which was pretty good.  Pour the stuff from the bowl into the crust.  Cook for 45 minutes at 350F.

To me, quiche sounds like something that should be hard to make.  It isn't.  Trust me, if I did it a monkey could be enticed with a single ripe banana to do the same.

Mr. F

Eating Light, Dirt, Glitter, and the End of the World

This should be 2 posts, but it isn't.  Concentrate and try to follow my stream of consciousness.  The wife recently bought a new vegetarian cookbook about eating fresh and healthy- we have sampled a few recipes from it, and it is quite good.  I decided to make something from it on Sunday night.  I looked through it and instead chose "Bisteces Ranchero" from The Art of Braising.  Plenty of meat in that one.  This was an honest shift in direction, but couldn't have been a bigger 180.  Ranchero is a big beefy hot mess of goodness.  I was going to take pics of my creation, but I decided to play a little Plants vs. Zombies instead.  Lame.  I have plenty of leftovers, which I am guessing is an underreported food blog topic.  I think I will call it wemadetoomuchofthisandnowIwillhaveitforlunch.com.   

On to the thought of the day.  My wife and I both work out of our home, which is good and bad.  Bad because she likes to keep The Today Show on, which is to news and current events what USA Today is to the written word.  At least USA Today has pie charts.  I don't much care for The Today Show (no more time for italics) although I am convinced Ann Curry struck a deal with the devil to stay looking like she is- she is in her mid-50's. 

So, one day last week we switched over to VH1 for some morning videos- and I was introduced to Ke$ha.   Here is what I don't get, and I fear makes me quite out of touch- apparently, the end of the world is coming, and  we have to party like it is our last.  OK, I am aware of the existence of several apocalyptic theories (but blissfully unaware of the details of any), so I understand the desire to go out like a shooting star.  What I don't get is why everyone wears so much glitter.  And dirt.  They simply don't go together.  I googled the term "Glitter and Dirt," and got this.  Yep, photos of Barbies.  I Holy shit, I am old.  What is the world coming to?  It reminded me of "Derelicte" in Zoolander. 

Plus I hate being dirty.  I propose glitter and litter, where you get all shiny and then drop things in your wake.  I googled that and found this:

Now we are getting somewhere.

Mr. F

I shall confess to my biggest phobia

This is not a picture of me.

I have a real issue with body hair.  I haven't taken the step to rid myself of it, but I sense the day is near.  I was lying in the tub this morning and realized hair is taking over my body like kudzu on a magnolia tree.  And I would consider myself relatively hairless when compared to some of the man-apes out there.

That's a house underneath all that vine.  Picture my body instead of a house, and you understand my fears.  Ok, perhaps that is taking it a bit too far.  Regardless, if it were easy, socially acceptable, and painless, I would clean things up a good bit- most likely leaving hair on my head and eyebrows only.   Think how much cooler summer would feel?  Unfortunately, I can't bear the thought of looking like a 200 pound cyclist.  Hirsute it is. 

And don't even get me started on hair on women. 

Mr. F

Darth Vader Wears a Pashmina

 A week ago I finally convinced my bride our son was ready to begin watching the Star Wars movies- we had a Friday Movie Night (complete with popcorn) and watched Episode 1; The Phantom Menace.  A great time was had by the boy and I, and the wife found it tolerable. 

 Watching the movie spurred another round of Star Wars infatutation- as seen in the pic above.  Which led to an interesting statement from five-year-old Bridger today- as I was helping him get his costume on, he said "Darth Vader has a pashmina" in reference to the cape attached to the costume.  How does he know what a pashmina is?  How do I? 

It's a scarf.  Or a shawl.  Or a serape.  But on Vader, it is definitely a bad-ass cape.


I blame my wife for filling his head with fashion.


Mr. F