Sunday is totally eventless with the exception of the child from down the road.
Before we go any further I need to make a couple of things clear. I do not have any children. I do not see this as a tragedy. It is very likely that it is a good thing that I do not have children. I'm not a crazy lady who plots evil against children or who would ever harm a child but it's like turnips, I'd prefer my stew without. You may have your stew any way you like.
Any way, the people at the end of my road have a son, about five years old who has one of those ride-in electric cars. Now the roads at Grangeways are packed gravel and this electric car has hard tires. On top of this, the motor has something wrong with it causing it to go clunk, clunk, clunk about twice a second. Added together this results in a rather noisy passage.
Around 9:00, he trundles past my site. Around 9:10 back he comes. Next arrival around 9:20 and so on all day with brief respite for lunch and dinner. His last trip at 9:35 PM. It's pitch dark and has been for a while. Are his folks not too fond of him either? Hoping for Gypsies to carry him off?
The irritation is not merely the noise but its almost perfect regularity. After so many passages, you develop an internal clock of expectation for the next passage. When it doesn't come, you notice and then you notice when one minute later it does come. Sorta like Chinese water torture, drip drip pause drip.
The kid doesn't go anywhere else: not around the block, just up and down "my" street. He has a great future as a street car driver: back and forth, back and forth, all day long. Aarrrgh!
The access to my site is difficult being partially blocked by a hydro pole and I had already decided to move to another site down the road which had clear access. But now, I was looking for a site on a different loop. Not only to get away from the kid and his car but on one of my walks with Ruby, I noticed that the site next to the one available on my road looked like a toy store had exploded.
Unh, Unh, no thanks.
Fortunately, there's one on the next loop. We'll take care of that little chore tomorrow before we leave for the season.
Ginger
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Thanksgiving Sunday Morning
Sunday arrives chilly and leaden. Oh, goody!
Well, that's a bit petulent.
This is mid-September in the Great White North ya know... It's milder than normal and if it precipitates, I won't have to shovel it. But expectations are strange things that affect our perception of reality. No reality bending medications necessary.
But the weather bureau promised warm and sunny, I whine. Well, here's a mint; suck it up. Warm and sunny ain't on the menu this morning, Honey.
Ruby and I go for an only slightly soggy walk: the puddles are still gargantuan. I'm wearing sandals and no sox. My feet are wet and gritty and I can feel a blister coming on. I want a coffee. We meet a few mutts, uncountable Labs, a chocolat Poodle (more about whom later), some fuzzballs, (all dogs falling into the X-Poo category, I refer to thusly) and some people.
The people, like the pooches, come in a variety of sizes, shapes and coats but interestingly all one colour - white. Don't Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Indians camp?
There's a lovely creek that meanders through the property: home to frogs and tadpoles and other critters that the kids love to catch and, I hope, release. I promise to take pictures next year.
It's been about a half hour and Ruby has checked all the p-mail I have patience for so we head home.
On the way, we pass the Chocolat Poodle. Her owners are camped in the spot across the road and she is staked out in this empty space with naught but a water dish to keep her company. She's frantic to play and Ruby and I spend a few minutes with her. Why do people get dogs when they don't enjoy their company? I hope she wasn't there all night...
Back at the ranch, after Ruby goes through her routine of screwing up her courage to jump into the rig - she will not step on that retractable step - I fire up the kettle and get out the single cup drip coffee cone I bought just before the weekend.
I have a question. Why, oh why, when there is a simple, elegant virtually unbreakable tool, do people feel it is necessary to mess with it? And by "mess with it", I mean make it fancier, electrically powered, computer controlled, automatic, multi-function, with wheels, flashing lights and a digital clock. Just about the only electrical appliance I have in my kitchen that doesn't have a digital clock is my hand mixer. And no, you can't have it.
I had a Melitta filter cone. You could put a 2-cup, 4-cup or 8-cup filter in it, rest it on a cup or carafe and after adding coffee and hot water, produce a decent cup or pot of coffee. I now make my coffee with a French press pot and thought to resurrect my Melitta filter cone for Lazy Lady but alas, it has disappeared into the black hole that resides in my basement. All righty then, no problem, twenty bucks or so and a trip to Wal*Mart should fix that problem.
You'd think.
Wal*Mart, Home Depot, Rona, Zellers, Giant Tiger, and various "super" grocery stores later, no Melitta or any other plain old filter cone with or without the carafe. Myriads of electric coffee makers that will make coffee, lattes, cappucino, espresso - even hot chocolat - for goodness sake. Most have bells, timers, clocks, run on A/C current and occupy upwards of one square foot of counter space that I can't spare. One Wal*Mart I was in, the clerk I spoke to didn't even know what a non-electric drip coffee maker was. Sheeesh.
Am I beginning to sound a tad like Andy Rooney? No? OK, I'll continue.
To continue, I finally found what I looked like a simple, one mug, non-electric drip filter cone in the camping section of Canadian Tire (Crappy Tire to the locals). Yay. It even had a permanent metal mesh filter. This is what I will use this morning. After the Herculean task of ripping off the blister pack entombing the cone, I ladle some coffee into it, place it on my coffee mug and pour the hot water in.
I wait. And wait.
Nothing's happening except about one drop of coffee drips into the mug every 10 seconds or so. I'm not going to live long enough to enjoy this cup of coffee! It'll probably evaporate faster than it drips through.
When all else fails, read the instructions. Who'd'a guessed you'd need instructions for a filter cone holder. Well, the "improvers" have been at this simple device making it "better". This is a two-part contraption. The bottom part comprises a small coffee well for the grounds, the bottom of which is the mesh filter. The top part is the "funnel" which twists onto the bottom part. It has several small holes which apparently allow a gradual flow of water onto the grounds below. These holes are so small that they got clogged with grounds with my first attempt. There is also a "chimney" running from bottom to top of the funnel part. Don't ask me what it does.
So, what to do with the slightly damp coffee in the cone? I dump it into a bowl. (So, I'm cheap. So what?) I wash the whole contraption. Try to empty the grounds from the bowl into the small coffee well and get it all over the counter, sink, filter holder and about half of it into the well. I clean up the mess. I've been told not to put grounds into the grey tank and so I do this with multiple paper towels. I'm never going to get all the grounds so I rinse them down the drain. (Don't tell the grey water cops on me.) I top the holder up with more coffee, twist the two parts together (more wet grounds ooze out), and with multiple appendages crossed, pour more hot water into the cone. It drips at a somewhat faster pace than the first attempt but this isn't going to work as a permanent solution. Hasn't anyone heard, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"
Anyway, about half an hour after returning, I'm sitting at the dinette table with a hot coffee. I'm going to have to get a second French press before next spring. I'm done screwing around with filter cones.
Ginger
Well, that's a bit petulent.
This is mid-September in the Great White North ya know... It's milder than normal and if it precipitates, I won't have to shovel it. But expectations are strange things that affect our perception of reality. No reality bending medications necessary.
But the weather bureau promised warm and sunny, I whine. Well, here's a mint; suck it up. Warm and sunny ain't on the menu this morning, Honey.
Ruby and I go for an only slightly soggy walk: the puddles are still gargantuan. I'm wearing sandals and no sox. My feet are wet and gritty and I can feel a blister coming on. I want a coffee. We meet a few mutts, uncountable Labs, a chocolat Poodle (more about whom later), some fuzzballs, (all dogs falling into the X-Poo category, I refer to thusly) and some people.
The people, like the pooches, come in a variety of sizes, shapes and coats but interestingly all one colour - white. Don't Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Indians camp?
There's a lovely creek that meanders through the property: home to frogs and tadpoles and other critters that the kids love to catch and, I hope, release. I promise to take pictures next year.
It's been about a half hour and Ruby has checked all the p-mail I have patience for so we head home.
On the way, we pass the Chocolat Poodle. Her owners are camped in the spot across the road and she is staked out in this empty space with naught but a water dish to keep her company. She's frantic to play and Ruby and I spend a few minutes with her. Why do people get dogs when they don't enjoy their company? I hope she wasn't there all night...
Back at the ranch, after Ruby goes through her routine of screwing up her courage to jump into the rig - she will not step on that retractable step - I fire up the kettle and get out the single cup drip coffee cone I bought just before the weekend.
I have a question. Why, oh why, when there is a simple, elegant virtually unbreakable tool, do people feel it is necessary to mess with it? And by "mess with it", I mean make it fancier, electrically powered, computer controlled, automatic, multi-function, with wheels, flashing lights and a digital clock. Just about the only electrical appliance I have in my kitchen that doesn't have a digital clock is my hand mixer. And no, you can't have it.
I had a Melitta filter cone. You could put a 2-cup, 4-cup or 8-cup filter in it, rest it on a cup or carafe and after adding coffee and hot water, produce a decent cup or pot of coffee. I now make my coffee with a French press pot and thought to resurrect my Melitta filter cone for Lazy Lady but alas, it has disappeared into the black hole that resides in my basement. All righty then, no problem, twenty bucks or so and a trip to Wal*Mart should fix that problem.
You'd think.
Wal*Mart, Home Depot, Rona, Zellers, Giant Tiger, and various "super" grocery stores later, no Melitta or any other plain old filter cone with or without the carafe. Myriads of electric coffee makers that will make coffee, lattes, cappucino, espresso - even hot chocolat - for goodness sake. Most have bells, timers, clocks, run on A/C current and occupy upwards of one square foot of counter space that I can't spare. One Wal*Mart I was in, the clerk I spoke to didn't even know what a non-electric drip coffee maker was. Sheeesh.
Am I beginning to sound a tad like Andy Rooney? No? OK, I'll continue.
To continue, I finally found what I looked like a simple, one mug, non-electric drip filter cone in the camping section of Canadian Tire (Crappy Tire to the locals). Yay. It even had a permanent metal mesh filter. This is what I will use this morning. After the Herculean task of ripping off the blister pack entombing the cone, I ladle some coffee into it, place it on my coffee mug and pour the hot water in.
I wait. And wait.
Nothing's happening except about one drop of coffee drips into the mug every 10 seconds or so. I'm not going to live long enough to enjoy this cup of coffee! It'll probably evaporate faster than it drips through.
When all else fails, read the instructions. Who'd'a guessed you'd need instructions for a filter cone holder. Well, the "improvers" have been at this simple device making it "better". This is a two-part contraption. The bottom part comprises a small coffee well for the grounds, the bottom of which is the mesh filter. The top part is the "funnel" which twists onto the bottom part. It has several small holes which apparently allow a gradual flow of water onto the grounds below. These holes are so small that they got clogged with grounds with my first attempt. There is also a "chimney" running from bottom to top of the funnel part. Don't ask me what it does.
So, what to do with the slightly damp coffee in the cone? I dump it into a bowl. (So, I'm cheap. So what?) I wash the whole contraption. Try to empty the grounds from the bowl into the small coffee well and get it all over the counter, sink, filter holder and about half of it into the well. I clean up the mess. I've been told not to put grounds into the grey tank and so I do this with multiple paper towels. I'm never going to get all the grounds so I rinse them down the drain. (Don't tell the grey water cops on me.) I top the holder up with more coffee, twist the two parts together (more wet grounds ooze out), and with multiple appendages crossed, pour more hot water into the cone. It drips at a somewhat faster pace than the first attempt but this isn't going to work as a permanent solution. Hasn't anyone heard, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"
Anyway, about half an hour after returning, I'm sitting at the dinette table with a hot coffee. I'm going to have to get a second French press before next spring. I'm done screwing around with filter cones.
Ginger
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