IT'S NATIONAL BLUEBERRY PANCAKE DAY

Did any of you know this is National Blueberry Pancake Day? How come it's not on any calenders? WHY WASN'T I TOLD?!

Okay, calm down, we can handle this. Wait, no fresh blueberries around. We'll use frozen blueberries. Now to make the pancake part. Instant or from scratch? Buttermilk, buckwheat, corn, or -- my favorite -- sourdough? Whatever kind you like. Whip up a batch or two and add as many blueberries as you want.

Now, with the blueberry cakes you need some bacon on the side. Or maybe some sausage is in order. Maybe a couple of fried eggs. A big steaming cup of coffee and some orange juice. And more bacon.

When I was just a little feller, my grandmother (when she made pancakes) would cook up bacon and then crumble it up and put it in the pancake batter.

Of course, you gotta have some type of syrup to put on your pancakes. Now, when it comes to syrup, I like maple the best. But then you have your different types of berry syrups, also. Mix and match your syrup.

My great-grandfather liked sorghum molasses on his corn cakes. Sometimes he would spread homemade jelly or jam on his hot cakes. But, when it came to blueberry pancakes, it was maple syrup. I remember watching him, one morning, eat a stack of 10 pancakes about the size of a coffee cup saucer.

I was amazed! That's a lot of blueberry pancakes in anybody's book. And Papa was not a very big guy. With those pancakes, he also had two or three fried eggs, over easy, about six slices of bacon, I don't know how many cups of coffee, and -- if grandmother made them -- some fried potatoes. Oh yeah, and a small glass of juice.

So, have I made you hungry? Well forget your diet for today. Whip up some blueberry pancakes, smother them in butter, and drown them in syrup. Feed your face, let the syrup run down your chin. Smack your lips. Then when you're done, lick the plate. Go ahead, I dare you. I won't tell. I promise. I double-dog dare you.

Besides, It's National Blueberry Pancake day.

DID YOU KNOW? 1/27/15

Did you know that the people who are native to very high altitudes in the Andes have more blood than those of us at sea level? They have three quarts more.

So, now you know.

QUOTES OF THE WEEK

"You better live your best and act your best and think your best today, for today is the sure preparation for tomorrow and all the other tomorrows that follow."
--Harriet Marineau, English writer and philosopher


"A sense of humor is a major defense against minor troubles."
--Mignon McLaughlin, journalist and author


"Memory feeds imagination."
--Amy Tan, American writer

QUOTES OF THE WEEK: 1/19/15

"A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him or her."

--David Brinkley, TV Newscaster

"If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking."

--George S. Patton Jr., World War II General

DO YOU REMEMBER: Ford Pinto

Do you all remember when they came out with the Ford Pinto? It didn't seem to take long before you started to see them everywhere. Two of my best friends had Pintos. Ed had a red pinto when we were in high school. In all the time I ever rode with him around town, I don't think I ever saw him put that thing in fourth gear. And a Pinto is not a babe magnet. I don't care what you did to it, at least it wasn't one for Ed. We would cruise around the neighborhood, listen to the eight track, smoke cigarettes, and just goof around. And, of course, I had to mess with Ed every now and then.

We went cruising one Saturday night. As we headed into downtown Denver, we had to stop at just about every stop light. At one light, Ed pulled to a stop, put the Pinto into first, and was looking around and talking as we always did. As he was looking out the driver's window, I very gently reached over and pulled the Pinto out of gear -- just moved it to neutral. We kept talking. When the light turned green, Ed gave it the gas. I mean, he rev-ed it up like a race car. And we just sat there. 

The look on his face was one of puzzlement and shock. He thought he had blown the clutch. When he figured out what was up, he about came unglued and he called me a few names. I did this to him every several blocks. When he seemed about ready to make me walk home, I switched it up some. I would then instead pull the parking brake when he would stop at a light. It drove him crazy. But he did laugh about it when he told our other friends later. After that, we ended up taking my '70 Chevelle to cruise around. Besides, it was more of a babe magnet. 

There was only once that I remember Ed picking up this sweet thing while cruising around. She had run out of gas and Ed was taking her to a filling station. Ed got rid of his little Pinto not long after high school. I had gotten rid of the Chevelle by then. Ed bought a Jeep Cherokee, and I had a Chevy Blazer. We would romp around the hills near our homes.

Our friend Marc bought a bright lime-green Pinto wagon. We had loads of fun with him and his "green weenie," as we called it sometimes, since it aggravated him to no end. One night while we were all hanging out at the Denny's restaurant with nothing to do, we somehow came up with this cat and mouse game with our cars. We would drive around this BIG field out behind the King Soopers store. We would drive around with no lights on and sneak up on one another from behind, and then blast the car in front of us with our headlights. It was loads of fun.

Then we changed it up a bit. We had to drive up behind one another, get out, sneak over, and take the other persons gas cap. Once you did that, you then blasted them with your head lights. We did this weekly for several months. Then one night Ed took Marc's gas cap from his Pinto while we were at Denny's. 'Course, Marc noticed it when he went to go home.

I didn't know that Ed had taken it. Marc just knew it was one of us. Well, Marc took off for home pretty pissed at Ed and I. Once Marc was gone, Ed showed me the gas cap. He said he had a neat idea. We left my Blazer at Denny's and used Ed's car, as we cruised the neighborhood looking for other Pintos. We finally found one; it was black. Ed jumped out and "borrowed" the gas cap. We went to Marc's and put the black cap on his bright green Pinto then went back to Denny's.

The next day, we met up to go to Marc's. Marc was still miffed about his gas cap. Again Ed swore he had not touched it and I did the same. We left Marc's and met in the parking lot of Denny's. Ed was laughing like a little girl. All of a sudden, Marc came flying into the parking lot, screaming something about our moms that we couldn't quite make out. Marc threw the black gas cap at us and drove on out of the parking lot.

We spent the next couple of weeks gathering different colored gas caps from Pintos, and putting them on Marc's Pinto. He had quite the large selection to choose from, color-wise. He gave up on getting his gas cap back and bought a locking gas cap. Ed and I managed to return a lot of the gas caps. A lot of them we just left on the roofs of their Pintos. Seems that they had also bought locking gas caps.

We had a lot of fun times over the years. Marc's Pinto was the one used when we went Big Wheeling at Red Rocks Park. 

Quote of the Week: 1/12/15

“Today expect something good to happen to you no matter what occurred yesterday. Realize the past no longer holds you captive. It can only continue to hurt you if you hold on to it. Let the past go. A simply abundant world awaits. (January 11)” 
― Sarah Ban Breathnach, Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy

Photo by Jim Noland, (c)2014

THE TEN DOLLAR TENT

Have you ever bought something on the cheap and had it last you for years and years? I bought a tent from my best friend Marc, back in the day, after high school. He had been in the Boy Scouts years before we were in high school. Anyway, he had this bright orange two-man tent that was held up by fiberglass poles. It was faded here and there, and had one or two little holes from being too close to the campfire at one time or another.

It was well used, and we had used it a few times on fishing trips up on the Gore Range. He was getting rid of it. He wanted 20 dollars for it. I knew that he had paid 40 dollars for it brand new, and that it was well over 15 years old. We talked, we haggled, I walked away. Then we haggled and talked some more. I finally talked him into selling it to me for 10 dollars.

I took my "new" tent home, put it up in the backyard at my grandmother's house. I bought a can of water-proofing and sprayed the bejeezus out of it, let it set for three days, and had to take it down so I could mow grandmother's yard. That weekend, I packed up and went fishing. Things were great, until I went to put up the tent. I forgot the poles. 

Now, I've camped many a time and slept under the stars in all kinds of weather because I didn't have a tent or tarp. But, this time I had a perfectly good tent but no poles. So, I made do and got the tent set up anyway. Just as I was putting the last pole up from a old dead aspen tree, I heard a truck coming down the road. Guess what? It was Marc.

He had stopped by my grandmother's house and found out that I had headed up to do some fishing for the weekend. Grandmother had found these fiberglass poles laying up against the garage and wondered if Marc knew what they were for. Marc laughed and told her they were for my tent and that without them I would be hard pressed to get the tent up. Well, Marc went home and got his sleeping bag and fishing pole and drove all the way up to where I was camped.

I had the tent up with no fiber glass poles, but old aspen limbs. We spent the weekend fishing, laughing at how the tent looked with aspen branches. There were nights around the fire, and we were talking, smoking, looking at the stars, and listening to the night sounds of the forest. When we crawled into the tent to sleep, I thanked Marc for letting me buy his tent.

I used that tent for many a year. Just the summer before last, I gave the tent to a kid down the street. It was hard to give it away, with all the memories I had of using it all of those years. It was a tad more bleached out; the only part of the tent that was still bright orange was the floor. The same holes were still there. I never patched them. The kid had just joined the Boy Scouts and needed a tent. He was excited, and his dad came by and thanked me. They were a bit short on money, but he wanted his son to make the camping trip.

I'm sure that Marc was smiling down on me from heaven as the boy walked away with his "new" tent. I think with the memories I have, and the smile on that kid's face, it was the best 10 dollars I ever spent.

TWO QUOTES FOR THE WEEK : 1/5/15

"The trouble with life isn't that there is no answer, it's that there are so many answers."
--Ruth Benedict, American anthropologist

"Never let the fear of striking out get in your way."
--Babe Ruth, American baseball player