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Productive Saturday, after a fashion

I spent most of the day inside dealing with a cold, which has returned to plague me after one day wherein it appeared to be done with me and then crept back to bedevil me in the evening. That was the day of the wake, of course; the wake went very well with a large turnout, many stories about the dearly departed therevdrnye, and a quite remarkable picture of him in a suit, which looked most unnatural since a) he was wearing a suit and b) his hair and beard were relatively short and well-trimmed. Anyway, it was a good wake. There are extremely tentative plans to do another at Balticon for the benefit of people who couldn't make it to Friday's wake, which after all was called on short notice and during the Hanuramakwanzmas season to boot. We'll see what happens.

Aside from fighting a cold, I went out to pay rent, rebuild the essential pork rind stockpile, and get a little exposure to the Great Fusion Bomb In The Sky, which exposure is alleged to be good for one's health. Sauce for the goose, and all that.

Speaking of health, I started December at 357.6 pounds, down about a pound and a half from November's start. Only eight pounds from my goal of 350, and most of three months to do it. I reckon I can whup it. :)

The afternoon was partially taken up with making Heroin Thighs, since I messed up and got thighs instead of breasts when I went out looking for wings a while back. Don't ask. Anyway, I messed around with the recipe a little bit, adding eggs to the butter because I didn't think 1/2 cup melted butter was going to be enough for four pounds of thighs. Also added garlic because the coating was vaguely Italian (Parmesan cheese, parsley, oregano) and substituted chili powder for the salt and pepper. It turned out okay, I guess; not the awesome can't stop eating this results others claimed, but it sure beat plain baked chicken. Also cooked a couple pounds of cauliflower, added butter and garlic, and mashed the crap out of it. Also yummy.

So of course after I finish this, P summons me forth to wings. I only had one basket since I was pretty full from dinner, and wanted the wings mainly for the therapeutic value of spicy Caribbean sauce. Wings delivered.

This post at Power Line reminded me of this song: Fallin' In Love by the Souther-Hillman-Furay band, which got a few minutes of airplay back in '74. It's held up pretty well, and I was glad to find it again; also glad to be warned that Chris Hillman had gone back to his bluegrass roots. I like me some country; bluegrass, not so much.
(Cf. my quip to stuckintraffik that bluegrass was what NPR listeners called country music so they wouldn't be embarrassed by association with rednecks.)
Anyway, it's a nice song which captured a mood for me back then, and you might like it too, for the same reasons.

Now I'm going to take a couple Nyquil and rack out. I got a long day of driving, Ukrainian prayer, and law readin' ahead of me tomorrow and I really ought to get a decent night's sleep.