What your furniture does when you’re not home.
Archive for June, 2004
Well, there wasn’t supposed to be a prayer at that particular point in President Reagan’s funeral.
Sweet dreams, Clintons.
My animals are unnatural.
So was the sky tonight.
It’s all Bill’s fault. He told me how easy it is to roast your own coffee. Now I’m obsessed with it. I bought a FreshRoast rather than went hard-core with a heatgun and a dog bowl, like some of the people on Coffee Geek.
The roaster came with a pound of green beans – Swiss water process decaf Sumatra Takengon. They sucked. Majorly. I had serious reservations about the whole thing. I ran down to Mozart’s Coffee Roasters which is just a couple of minutes away and picked up some of their green beans – $4/lb for any green bean, and they have quite a variety. They were better, but still not the coffee flavor explosion I was looking for. Then I placed an order from Sweet Maria’s. Wow. They’re pricier, but every green coffee they sell is accompanied by a detailed review saying what aromas it has, how dark to roast it for optimum flavor, if the beans need to de-gas for an extra long time, etc. My favorites from there so far are the WP Decaf Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, the Ethiopian Harar, and the Costa Rican La Minita Tarrazu. I’ve learned that African coffees generally have floral and fruity notes, while Central American coffees are more earthy and chocolatey. There’s one Ecuadorean coffee, the Escafe, which is insanely bright and tangy and not good by itself, but it’s great in a blend.
So I’ve got my little spreadsheet, figuring out what I like and don’t like, and in the meantime realizing that if I drink too much coffee I get heart palpitations. Hopefully that’s going to go away once I’m off all this ear infection medication. Cause, damn that’s annoying. But it’s ok, cause I get to mix myself a half-caf blend. Today it’s 2 scoops Harar (blueberry flavor), one scoop Escafe (brightness), and 2 scoops Kenya AA WP Decaf (not outstanding in and of itself but a good base for this blend).
I was so inspired with all the sourdough in Alaska that I decided to try to make my own starter. Unfortunately mine never took off and the loaf of bread I baked with it ended up being about an inch tall and denser than a brick. I called around to various different bakeries in Austin to try to find a starter that was proven, but had no luck until calling Texas French Bread, who was happy to give me some. My pancakes have never been fluffier. I’ve gone through about 15 pounds of flour in the past couple of weeks, feeding the monster.
I’ve been sick as a dog since we got home. Two days after we flew back I started running a 101 degree fever for a few days. Monday night I had an earache so bad that I was in tears and making comparisons to labor (which is better because at least you get a break at regular intervals). Tuesday I went to see the doc who let out a low whistle when he saw my eardrum and said it was just about perforated (I think it finally blew later that afternoon). It was leaking blood and I was about ready to stick a skewer in my ear. Since then I’ve been on major steroids and antibiotics, one of which is giving me heart palpitations, and the ringing in my ear is deafening. I really hope I recover my hearing, because this sucks. The left side is fine, but it’s like I’ve got a tinny little speaker with bad feedback on my right side. We’re making plans to go to Bulletfest in two weeks and I’m a little nervous about how loud it will be, seeing as how the kids hollering is enough to make we want to cry.
RIP, President Reagan. I found a picture online earlier this afternoon that has me in it. I was in New Orleans in 1988 for the Republican National Convention and was one of the cheerers with homemade signs, and we had no designated seating, so for all the speeches we got to sit on the floor directly in front of the podium. An awesome experience, to be sure.
I’m on the bottom right, two left of the guy with the tie who’s looking up.
May the good Lord bless and keep you, Mr. President.