First catch-up. Then gardenblahblahblah.

You guys, it keeps being too long between posts.

I used to be a Coupla Times a Week kinda gal, now I'm...less so.

I get all busy with school and driving to Santa Cruz five days a week and the starting up of this business and the garden OH THE GARDEN and the hunt for snow and then BAM it's been forever since I posted anything.

Rude. It's very rude of me.

So let's catch up really super photographic-like, OK? Then we can all feel better about how it's not you it's me and whatever other relationshippy cliches that I just will not trot out on this blog because they make me want to slice everyone's throat including my own.

I don't do cliches, people, and you know this.

Photo catch-up, then? That's what I thought.

Also, forgive me in advance for showing you photos taken with my phone. You'll know which ones they are because blech.

I brewed my first batch of beer (Chocolate stout) under Bubba's watchful brewer's eye, of course.

 Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Tear out the hideous old Santolina and put in a new and ridiculously small Rosemary.

On a separate but equally important To Do list called, "To Do In My Life" - Get first chair at Heavenly.

  Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Ski some backcountry (like a freak)

 Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Irrigate the new garden bed. WHAT NEW GARDEN BED? I'll tell you in gardenblahblahblah. Just wait.

 Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Make lap coasters. Which are, for those of you wondering, a large semi-absorbent fabric coaster that can sit on my lap and absorb the condensation of my cocktail so that it doesn't get my fancy attire all ring stained.  No, I don't know why I make almost pointless things. Let's call it a character flaw.

 Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Insulate beer fermentation chamber.
This was certainly NOT pointless.

 Thing #: I Do Not Know What on the four page To Do List: Make new couch cushion pillowcases.

Oh finally it snows in Tahoe. FINA-FUCKING-LY.

This wasn't on any specific list, but who doesn't love watching a cute puppy run around in the snow? Only assholes, that's who.

Some QT in the Sierra backcountry.

And then QT with Bubba at the bar.

I studied for four hours last Saturday and then my neighbors took pity on me and hosted a study break. It is possible that I never returned to studying so it may not have actually qualified as a "break".

I brought these over to the neighbor who hosted my study break. I think you'll agree that she sorely deserved them.

I baked Farmgirl's bran muffins instead of doing 600 other things I should have been doing because that's how I procrastinate, friends - with baked goods.

I shredded all of these vegetables into a big bowl and have been eating it for lunch every day with a squeeze of lemon juice, some olive oil and an avocado sliced on top. It's actually really good and, no, I have not yet shit myself from raw vegetable overload, though I appreciate your concern.

I made some awful Chocolate Chili recipe and it was not good. I still ate it all, but it was way too gritty with spice and too sweet with all that cinnamon. Never again.

For one of my classes I had to open and check our water meter. I found a black widow in there and nearly shit the sidewalk. If I don't get an A in this class, I'm putting a black widow in my teacher's coffee.

Avocado with tuna and fresh dill. It's my lunch about three days a week and every time I eat it I feel like a nerd. I have no idea why.

This is one of my favorite trees in the spring time and this day it happened to have a very cute truck parked next to it. Yay for spring and old timeyness.

We've had some unseasonably warm spring weather and everyone except Bubba wants to soak it into our bodies like big sun sponges. Bubba just shakes his fist at the sky and mutters something about a traitorous so and so.

Remember Rocket? Yeah, she reminds us of her existence by squeezing into spots that are clearly too narrow for her.

And then by taking up spots that are clearly too big for her and that belong to the dog.

The front yard meadow is totally starting to bloom. 

Remember my 500 new pets? They've been pooping and I've been stealing their poops, mixing them with water and spraying it on my plants. It's the weirdest thing I've ever done.

I keep making Brussels sprouts like always and MAN are they good.

I made Farmgirl's Carrot Orange soup, ate it for a week and could still go back for more. That shit is goooooooooooooo-od. 

So, feeling caught up? I'm so glad. Me too. Sorta.

Anyone up for gardenblahblahblah? Because I've got some. LOTS.

Probably not the best time for this, but...vitamins and Crossfit

So, I've been drinking and Bubba's not home yet from his weekend away and I've spent most of this day doing homework that has melted my brains into a BUT I HAVEN'T DONE CHEMISTRY SINCE THE 9TH GRADE pile of shit and for whatever reason I felt like it was time to talk about vitamins and Crossfit.

The "Bubba's home late" dinner

Because why not talk about All Things Health when you're squinting at the screen with exhaustion while knocking back your supplements with the rest of that gin martini (and two olives - I'm not an animal.)?

I'm all about health, people. And reasonable behavior for a near-35 year old woman.

Anyway, here's the low down on the vitamins after...ohlemmelookthisup...two years (holy shit - that's more than I thought) of taking them daily. Like a freak. And sometimes when sprinkled over yogurt like so much ice cream topping. Like a freak.

Just so you know what we're talking about, here.

B12
Yeah. This shit. I fell victim to a few random people's insistence that B12 could ONLY be properly absorbed via liquid drops and that "Why do they even make tablets when you can't even absorb the nutrient that way?"s  before giving up and trading in my handy dissolving tablets for a daily dropper's load of foul tasting faux Nyquil that doesn't even have the stones to hit me with a nice alcoholic thunking.

No. It just tastes nast and then doesn't give me near the brain boost of my dissolving tablets.

But I have half of the bottle left, so I'm going to slog through this bottle and then smash it on the concrete outside Whole Foods as I vow to stay true to my dissolving tablets.

That's right, Whole Foods - I'm about to make a scene at your place of business. But in a good way! I shall never go astray again from your dissolving B12 tablets!

I'm sure they're thrilled.

Folic Acid
Um. Yeah. So I take this. And usually I don't forget because it's a small little thing that can be easily scooped up with a spoonful of whatever breakfast I'm eating and disappear down my lady gullet without too much early morning Just Make It Happen prodding.

Though, sometimes I forget to take it because it gets stuck in the corner of my sweatshirt pocket and I don't realize it until three days later when I'm going into my pocket for a dog treat while out on a walk with Jada and, well, the dog doesn't consider folic acid tablets enticing enough to not go after a squirrel.

Upping the ante with a pocketful of the tablets doesn't do the trick either.

All that to say that sometimes I forget to take these things and I don't notice any difference in my life. Not that I'm going to stop taking them since they're supposed to be good for your brains and all, but I guess maybe in just a long-term way.

I should look that up.

B6
B6 is the hotter, skinnier, way more appealing sister to the filthy liquid B12. It's a tiny tablet that I make sure to take every live long day because I can so totally feel the difference in my attention span, overall outlook on life and ability to focus and comprehend when I don't get my Bs in the morning.

Behind the Cal Mag Citrate and pro-biotics, these are crucial to daily functioning.

Cal Mag Citrate
Like I was saying - crucial. If you recall, I started this whole terribly ridiculous supplement experiment in an effort to find a way out of my mind-eating migraines without becoming wholly reliant on prescription inhalers (that were promised to NOT work forever. Comforting.), extra dosing (so that I don't sound like a crackhead) on Excedrin Migraine and Bubba's power tool collection.  (The garage one, you filthy beasts. STAY WITH ME HERE.)

What I've found is that YES. Cal Mag Citrate, in the dose that I've worked out over the last two years of experimenting, relieves me almost entirely of migraine.

Like, I used to get a migraine every two weeks or so. Twice a month - sometimes more, depending. It blew. I lived in fear of being somewhere where I could not access my Imitrex inhaler. I'm not going to go into further details, but it was ugly.

In the last two years, since embarking on this whole Let's Take Supplements Like a Freak thing, I have had three migraines.

In two years.

So, in the time when I *could* have, had I kept following my doctor's advice, had 48 migraines, I've had three.

And those three times were when I forgot to take my Cal Mag or my vitamins altogether. Also - and it could have been this, too - these were times when I was already super stressed and probably dehydrated and maybe drinking, so that could have brought the migraines on, too.

I just think that the Cal Mag Citrate gives me a buffer so that I can live my life without having to find a dark corner in which to curl up around the power drill to turn my skull into a Wiffle ball in the hopes of alleviating the throbbing pain.

That's what I think.

Pro-biotics
THIS is not about thinking. It's about doing. The business. You know - the business. Morning business.

Yes, I'm very indelicate. Thanks for noticing.

Pro-biotics make you poo. That's a documented fact. I guess. Somewhere. Whatever - if your guts are all a mess and you need to straighten a few things out around there, I heartily recommend a daily dose of pro-biotics.

I'm right as the mail, friends. It's good times.

Chaste Tree Berry, Evening Primrose and DIM
These are the "Lady Pills" as Bubba likes to call them and I am fine with that. Because I've seen what happens when I run out of any of these and go a few days before restocking and when the time comes...bad.

Think cramps, crazy crying for almost no reason because Oh my god did you see the kids' faces with their new computers? It's the most incredible thing oh my god what's the matter with me oh it's PMS.

I get PMS if I don't take these Lady Pills consistently and daily. Good thing is that when I am good about taking these guys, I have no problems whatsoever. It's almost a...delight. No, that's too favorable of a term for that scenario. Let's say that it's...easily bearable.

Yes. Also, no crying which is good because it freaks both Bubba and I out a lot. 

I'm not really a crier.

Fish oil
Yeah. I don't remember why I'm taking these except that Omega 3s are supposed to be good for brain health and I need all the help I can get what with all the fucking math, taxonomy and chemistry my teachers are doling out this semester.

What the fuck, by the way, are farmers doing with so much math? There is no escape.

Women's Multi
I take this because the book told me to and I figure that it rounds out whatever I may, somehow, not be taking with all these other things. Plus, it's huge and I feel accomplished every day after I choke it down and don't die a horrible blech-tasting death from choking on it.

It's truly awful. All the brands. All the formulations. Like eating a squirrel turd.

Biotin
This is the newest comer to the world of my Fucked Up Vitamin Sprinkles Over Breakfast lifestyle. Story goes that I worked with a girl whose hair suddenly became noticeably shiny and gorgeous. Granted, girlfriend has long black Asian girl hair that's going to look beautiful sort of no matter what, but still - it looked extra nice.

So I was all, TuTu (this is a nickname, not a real name so don't get all RACIST or whatever with me because it's cool. Promise.), how the hell does your hair look so awesome? She tells me that she's been taking biotin but watch out because it's not just your head hair that grows like wild.

Noted.

And then I started taking biotin so that my highlighted hair could maybe regain some of its pre-highlight vigor.

See? Smooth on top, frizzyblech at the bottom. 6 month's worth of growth doesn't lie.

Six months later and YES. It's working. Plus, my nails are like...well...nails and I daresay my skin has never been clearer.

It delights me so to have a moment where I don't have a zit. Apparently this is my delighted face which looks very little like delight. Oh well. Personal flaw, I suppose.

That could just be my near-35ness showing though.

Also, my monthly waxing appointments have never been more crucial. Just lettin' you know - don't take that warning lightly because it means business.

So yeah - the vitamins and supplements are happening still despite the array of raised eyebrows I've gotten over the past two years.

About Crossfit...I can't believe I'm continuing to write this post right now. Ridiculous.

Crossfit is a beast, people. I'm not going to lie to you. It terrifies me. Less now than a week ago, but still - it's really not for the faint of heart.

I heard that before I joined up and I totally blew it right the hell off because "Hello, whatever, I'm totally in shape."

No.

I was not in Crossfit shape. Not even fucking close.

Let me explain this and then that thing about being scared of it until last week...

So, you know how usually you walk into the gym or a group fitness class and there are people of all shapes and sizes and fitness levels. Like there's the plump older gal in her Jane Fonda-esque leotard doing arm circles and there are a couple of super fit looking teenager types, some folks on the lumpier side and a random dude in work boots and whatever?

Right. Yes. We've all been to an American gym class.

Crossfit is not like that. These people - all ages of people - are in the most incredible shape.

It's like they stocked the fucking place with models from the videos with the shape these people are in. There are women in their 60s in amazing physical shape - strong as god damned bulls - and women with three kids who look like they could take down a charging bear and dudes dead lifting 400 pounds and HOLY.

I was blown away. People, when they want to be, can be really bad ass.

And here I was all, "Oh, I run three days a week and do Pilates - I'm so in shape for this. Pfffffffft, Crossfit."

And then Crossfit had its way with me.

I went to the Crossfit Lite deal for a few months. (It's like a warm up for Crossfit where you do all the same workouts, but with dumb bells instead of the bar.) It was fine. I felt reasonably adequate. Then I realized that my spring school schedule wasn't going to allow me to go to those few Lite classes and that I'd better sack up and do the whole "on ramp" thing so that I could go to all the Crossfit classes.

Particularly that special little gem at 6am. Yay. Love driving to Santa Cruz every morning for 8:30 and 9am classes.

So, back to that "until a week ago" thing - until a week ago I thought I was the most inept person on the planet. I was doing the "on ramp" sessions where the coach teaches you all the moves you'll do during class so that you don't kill yourself, those around you or bring down the satellite radio with an errant kettle ball toss, and I was just not *getting* it.

Like we're going through things as simple sounding as Push Press and girlfriend is stopping to tell me to push my head through and move my feet in and out or whatever and all I can think about is why am I so dumb that I can't so something as simple as lift something over my head.

I'm thinking that I'm too dumb for Crossfit.

But then I finish my sessions and she clears me for takeoff (despite what I'm imagining are my extreme and obvious limitations) and during my second 6am session as I'm stressing out about my Cleans (I'm sorry, I'm trying to be sort of specific so forgive the annoying pretense of weightlifting parlance), another coach who's just there working out goes, "Don't worry. It takes time. Years even - to get it right."

Oh.

So I'm not just supposed to know how to do this right off the bat and no one's judging me because I take five minutes to set my stance and whatever?

OH.

Would have been super nice if someone had told me that, like, two months ago.

Anyway, Crossfit is fine now and even though it scares the crap out of me and I've never been so exhausted and then so sore and then so ready to go back and see how badly I can humiliate myself in the pre-dawn hours - I'm still going.

And now you can go.

Me being nice.

I know. It sounds like a stretch. It feels like a stretch.

It's a stretch.

But - I'm doing it. Because Africankelli thought I should by taking part in her annual Calculated Acts of Kindness thing.

It has to do with Lent and Easter and things that don't normally even hit my radar, but it is mainly about making an effort during a certain period of time to make this place better. And I decided that this place is my neighborhood. I'm not going big and shooting for Making The World a Better Placeness because that seems out of my reach in any 40 day period, so I'm just taking on my neighborhood. And only in a minor way.

Anyway, she can explain it better than I can, all I know is that when one of my deep down best friends asks me to be a part of some nice thing that they're doing for the good of mankind and could you just be nice for a few days instead of your same WTF?! self, I feel inclined to do so.

If only so that this friend won't think that I'm rotten to the absolute core.

Just maybe to my asthenosphere or something.

So, what is this big Me Being Nice thing that I'm doing? I'm sure it won't surprise you that it involves swearing.

SHIT.

The nice thing I'm doing involves shit.

I'll pause while you collectively murmur your "Of course it does"es.

But when I say that it involves shit, I mean that the nice thing I'm doing for CAOK involves other people's dogs' shit.

Because people EVIDENTLY do not know how to pick up their dogs' shit and it pisses me off to high heaven.

I'm out there walking the dog twice a damn day, picking up her shit twice (at least) a damn day, I pick the shit up in my yard that other people's dogs leave because they are assholes, I pick up my own dog's shit that she leaves in the yard - I PICK UP A LOT OF SHIT.

And do you know why I pick up a lot of shit? Because it's fucking gross to have shit lying around on the ground, is why. Also, disease and stench and having to rinse your shoes off in the yard even though you're late to leave for your flight and so on.

I just don't feel like I should have to remind people of this. I mean, obviously not you people, because you plainly know that shit doesn't belong just lying on the ground in and around where people live and walk, but you know what I'm saying. Other people leave their dog's shit on the ground and it burns me, man.

So, during this 40 day period of Me Being Nice in one singular way, when I walk the dog, I'm not just picking up her shit, but all of the shit that I see during the duration of her 2x/day 30 minute walks.

I'm not going to lie - it's a lot of shit. BUT - there is less superfluous shit to pick up each day because of my previous day's picking up, so at least there's that.

I will say that the 2 days/week when I run the dog, I'm not stopping to pick up shit. That's just dumb. BUT - when we stop for the scheduled mid-run potty break, I pick up any extraneous shit that's lying about when Jada makes her deposit at the Valero station on the corner.

I feel like it's appropriate that the dog's mid-run bathroom is in the grassy strip in front of the gas station's exorbitant prices and I expect you to agree with me.

Anyway, if any of you all have a personal grudge that you might like to tackle during the next however many days there are until Easter - go on and do it. And maybe the world, or just your neighborhood, will be a little bit better by the time kids are running around hunting for eggs in their shit-free yards.

And just five short days later...another knitted thing.

OK, so that last post has been totally haunting me.

Plus, I am at the tail end of my much revered and over planned Break Between Semesters, during which time I had planned to do All Things due to the complete fullness of my life once class resumes.

Tomorrow.

SHIITE.

So, in the name of Doing All Things and while I was still drunk with the power of knowing how to re-cast on a cast off hem, I decided to go back and fix Sweater #2 to make the sleeves longer and to nail down those son of a bitching roller shade hems.

Let it be known that I do not enjoy rolled cuffs.

DO NOT ENJOY.

Now, even after thorough searching of the knitting bible, the book housing my favorite sweater pattern that I've never been able to satisfactorily complete, the book housing Bubba's perfect sweater and the world's biggest knitting resource - I still wasn't able to find a method for casting off in stockinette that results in both a flat cuff that DOES NOT ROLL FUCKING STOPPIT while maintaining a straight stockinette stitch.

It just doesn't exist I guess.

Or I gave up before resulting to extreme blocking techniques.

One or the other.

So, my final OK FINE I GIVE UP solution was to add a textured cuff.

Straight garter stitch was out because that felt like I was mailing it in somehow, that diagonal stitch that looked so cool in Vogue Knitting sounded complicated and like something I'd probably fuck up resulting in a flesh wound to some poor nearby soul (probably me via knitting needle) and any kind of ribbing seemed boring and predictable so I went with a good old favorite - seed stitch.

It's not fancy - just a K1P1 repeat on the first row and the a P1K1 repeat on the second - but I figured a few rows of that on all cuffs would result in a cuff that would STAY THE FUCK PUT so that no one would have to die and so that I'd have a new sweater to keep me warm instead of rolling up into an off-putting woolen tube top while sitting through many MANY hours of lectures and multiple hours of lab work in the greenhouse and field that begin in, oh 12 hours from now.

SHIITE again.

Don't even think about rolling. DO NOT THINK IT.

Thankfully, after masterfully removing my cast off rows (I'm so a pro at this now), adding a bit of length to the sleeves and three rows of seed stitch to the cuffs and casting off again - this is now a totally wearable sweater.

Oh yes. I shall wear THE PANTS off of you. Which makes no sense whatsoever since you're a sweater.

OH SWEET MERCY YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Why, are those cuffs and a  hem that DO NOT ROLL? Yes. Yes they are.

I WIN, CUFFS. I totally win.

So yay.

I feel triumphant, awash in warm cozy sweaters and also overwhelmed because even though I totally killed my To Do list (triumphant list ass kicking recounting coming soon - with triumphant photos), I still need to pack my bag, make my lunch, sort out the vitamins for the week (I could recount my vitamin situation, too. Anyone interested in how that's going?), pack the Crock Pot with tomorrow's dinner and, you know, have a minor melt down because this semester is going to be harder than last semester because it involves four classes instead of three and two of which that involve chemistry.

People - I have not done chemistry since, I think, the ninth grade when we probed bits of Happy Meal for its nutrient content, so you know there wasn't a lot of math involved since 0x0=0 and such.

Basically, I'm scared pants-less about the chemistry because we all know that also involves the math that I don't do and who knows if/how I'll be able to manage a 4.0 GPA with this extra class, but HEY let's just run off crazy into the Spring term while also ramping up the business, starting twice as many plants indoors and hey at least three other huge things that I will, I'm sure, talk endlessly about in no time at all.

I'm starting to think that I left the whole, "Take a day off" thing off my To Do list and that this was a major mistake, but at least I know what I'll wear tomorrow.

And just a short two years later...a knitted thing.

Hey! Remember how I used to knit? Yeah, me too. I think I've started every knitting post in the last handful of years this way.

Oh how I've gone astray. 

Until such time as there's a road trip, however. And you know we just went on a road trip. 

Evidence of a true road trip: Combos in every tragic flavor. I like the cheddar cheese pretzel ones because I, at the same time, sort of hate myself.

Also, we saw this Biggest Machine Ever digging a hole to China. I can only assume.

And that is basically the sum total of the photos I took from the road because I was alternating between rampant illness management (Bubba and I both got the plague before we left. Hey THANKS CES for infecting us all.) and knitting the forever-taking #3 Sweater.

Why #3?

Well, because first there was this one. 

Sweater #1 from the Leaf Tshirt pattern that no longer exists on Ravelry. Rude.

Then there was this one.

Sweater #2 from the Leaf Tshirt pattern in which I ditched the leaf and gave it sleeves.

Then there was the forever-taking one that I *just* finished after...um...almost two years.

Why, hello October 2011, fancy meeting you here IN 2013 GEEZ WHERE HAS MY LIFE GONE?

Which, in the end, looks nothing like the first one at all.

Sweater #3. Everything different except the raglan shaping.

In the sense that it has short sleeves instead of cap sleeves, 1x1 ribbed cuffs instead of rolled cuffs, shaping at the hips and no leaf pattern at all.

Because, apparently, I became all I Don't Know About This Rolled Cuff Thing as I was getting to the bottom of the sweater and decided that I didn't want that dumb cuff rolling up on me like so much roller shade. 

As you can see in Sweater #2, that rolled cuff is no joke. It wants to roll like friggen crazy. Hate that. 

But - that brings me to the Important Knitting Thing That I Learned during the knitting of this, my #3 Sweater from this pattern - you can totally take out a cast-off row for a do-over. 

So, like, for example only, you *think* that you've knit the thing long enough, so you happily and full of relief and joy cast the thing off only to find that, once trying it on, it's actually about half a foot too short - you can cast that final row back ON and resume knitting until such time as you've deluded yourself into thinking, once again, that it's "totally long enough, I'm so DONE with this sunuvabitching project" and you cast off again.

Repeat as necessary until such time as it *is* actually long enough or you've worn the yarn into dust and can no longer knit it lest it disintegrate fully in your fingers.

For example only.

The danger of me now knowing that I can totally undo and redo a cast-off row is that Sweater #2 back there is in jeopardy of being reworked. 

Because I hate that muther effing rolled bottom cuff and I think it needs redoing otherwise I'll never wear it because the thing turns into a tube top in five seconds when I'm wearing it which is not the look I'm going for in winter when I'm putting on a sweater. Or in the hottest summer months when I'm sweating just wrestling on the Boston Marathon Strangler.

I don't wear tube tops is what I'm saying.

Also, I think I may have knit this sweater a bit too long. It either needs to be about six inches longer so that I can wear it with leggings or about six inches shorter so that it can rest at the top of my jeans and not get all HEY I'M A FATTY around the middle. 

Perhaps I should stop taking sweater photos during PMS time. Yes, perhaps.

Anyway, I finished this #3 Sweater for the time being and since classes resume next week, I don't imagine that I'll have fuck all for time to go undoing it and redoing it and then messing with the other sweater even though I'd like to be wearing them both RIGHT NOW because it has suddenly gotten cooler again.

And here I thought it was going to be spring now.

First daffodil right there. And the "Circle of Friends" that I recently exhumed from the future hop yard.

Yeah - hop yard. We'll get to that soon enough.

On snow, firehole cocktails and why I'm SO over bacon

First we talk ski week and then we talk bacon, yes?

Yes.

We did our annual ski trip last week and YAY!

Someone's excited. And colorblind.

For a brief moment, we behave.

What's that old saying about Wrangler butts? Yes, that. But for ski pants.

I guess learning to snowboard and then jumping drops is no biggie when you're used to riding bulls.

We don't use words so much as middle fingers.

Why wouldn't you learn to ski and then, in one hour, throw yourself off of mean drops?

Even if you're a chick.

I so enjoy being photobombed by friendly skiers.

If it's not going to snow, at least there is a great view beyond our fire pit.

Also slopeside partying and acting like asses.

And s'mores. There's always s'mores.

Bubba says YAY to s'mores. And yellow legs.

I say just TRY to out-Apres Ski me, people. I know this sport and it is MINE.

Also, nice job not snowing until Day 5, Steamboat Springs, Colorado - since I had a 3 of 4 day lift pass.

Photo taken from our condo's window SINCE I WASN'T ON THE SLOPES DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.

That is no nice.

But even with no new snow until Day 5, we still skied and rode our faces off and that is the important part.

Also cocktails. Cocktails are always the important part regardless of whatever it is we're saying we're doing. And Vacation Cocktails are always fancier than regular At Home On A Tuesday Night Cocktails - just FYI.

You don't get a lot of this on a random Tuesday night.

In this case, Vacation Cocktails are more firehole-y than At Home On A Tuesday Night Cocktails, too, even though I promised you a recipe for habanero margaritas that won't give you the condition known as firehole, as I so sorely discovered on Day 5 when I was trying to soothe my OH SURE NOW IT SNOWS sadness with extra tequila.

I should have known that this was not the way to soothe anything. Particularly holes.

But so as not to segue into a delicious recipe on the cusp of flaming butthole talk, I will say that IN MODERATION (something I'll have to become more acquainted with), these cocktails are absolutely yum. Spicy, tangy, sweet, salty and spicy again. Which is why you keep sipping. Because of the spicy. And then it runs the gamut again until you end up at spicy and have to take another sip to cool it down and enjoy it some more and much like anything in life that is both pleasure and pain, you forget the pain when you experience the pleasure and then sometimes you overdo it.

Try not to overdo it on these cocktails because of the aforementioned condition known as firehole.

Yikes.

Habanero Margaritas
Maybe only have one or two but definitely not three or five.

Ingredients
(Makes 2-3)
4 shots of premium tequila - not the shitty stuff.
1 1/2 cups All natural margarita mix that doesn't have anything nasty or fake in it.
Juice from 1 fresh lime
1 habanero seeded and thinly sliced
Ice
2 lime wedges
Crushed sea salt

To make
In a cocktail shaker add: tequila, lime juice, 1/3 of the sliced habanero and enough ice to fill the shaker to just below the brim. Put on the two piece lid and shake.

Rub the rims of two martini or margarita glasses with the lime wedge, press the rims into a plate of sea salt and coat it how you like it. For me, I like A LOT of salt because I'm a heathen, but you do what you like.

Remove the lid cap and pour the strained cocktail into the glasses, dividing evenly so that you don't hog it all for yourself JERK and add a few rings of habanero (DO NOT TOUCH WITH YOUR FINGERS OR ELSE YOU'LL BE SAD LATER WHEN YOU RUB YOUR EYES OH MY GOD) and the lime wedge.

Cheers!

But only twice at most. I'm telling you that the third one is a bad idea. After two, I felt great and had an amazing day the next day riding the mountain. After three, I had a migraine (oh hooray) and wanted to die and take people down with me.

ONLY TWO I SAID.

And now that I've filled your eyes with snow and cocktail based goodness, let me fill it with disbelief:

I am SO over bacon on everything.

Yes, you read that correctly. I am taking a bacon break. Because it's fucking everywhere and on everything and every restaurant and soul on the planet thinks that the way to improve all foods and drinks and sexual experiences is to put bacon on it or infuse bacon in it or wrap bacon around it and, people, NO.

Just no.

It's not the Make Everything Better Machine.

It's not the magic ingredient in The Perfect Food.

It's not how you rescue a horrific meal crime from the grips of catastrophic failure.

It's also not how you "improve" already amazing things, for example a brownie sundae.

Brownie sundaes are amazing tasting things. They're horrible for you, yes, and not a culinary creation requiring masterful skill and French training, but they taste like heaven. Gooey rich brownie hiding under cool vanilla bean ice cream melting beneath warm velvety fudge sauce and maybe some crushed walnuts. THAT is amazing.

It's perfect. Even when judged by my Roman friend who is at once a talented chef, experienced and discerning fine diner and certified sommelier.

It doesn't need anything else other than maybe a bigger spoon and a dark room in which I may sit and quietly activate the conveyor belt in order to get it into my naked waiting body as fast as mechanically possible.

Maybe that. But nothing else. And certainly not crumbled bits of meat.

Bacon needs to be put back on the shelf because, in addition to the potential complications it may cause during naked brownie sundae ingestion, it's just not a necessary enhancement for ice cream, hot fudge and brownies.

Or coffee.

Or cocktails.

Or shrimp, poutine, hot dogs or TV shows.

Why in the ever-loving fuck do we have a show about some poor soon-to-be-flat lining dude going around our ever-swelling country eating his ever-swelling weight in bacon?

JUST WHY?

Because we're sick fucks, is why. But that's beside the point. I'm not going to go on a rant about all that. You can look around at your fellow Americans and think about the implications of the ever-swellingness on your own time.

All I'm saying is that I am taking a break from bacon until such time that it, once again, feels and tastes like the uniquely sensational and otherworldly experience that I remember from the Pre-Bacon On Everything times before it jumped the shark more dramatically than the saying's namesake and became the "Uh, I dunno - put bacon on it. Everyone seems to like it so much. We'll sell a million of last year's ski parkas if they just have bacon on them somewhere." answer to all of life's questions.

And I say this with a chest freezer full of bacon, more than a few posts involving bacon and a history of buying into a bacon of the month club, friends. That bacon is just going to have to sit out in the freezer until such time that it's special and new again and I'll thank the restaurants and people of the world to find themselves another menu darling until such time that bacon isn't the default ingredient in every dish, drink and home remedy.

OK, I'm done now.