Product Recalls, Part Two

These FIREWORKS can cause BURNS

 

Monitoring product recalls is one of my responsibilities at work.  While the kind folks at CPSC reach out to me via email on a daily basis, I skim and ignore the majority of their tips.  Nanny appreciates the nanny state, thanks, but since the clock with lead paint under its dome is eight feet from the floor – and, um, the lead is encased in a dome – isn’t exactly a matter of concern for us.  If the lead-painted numbers did become accessible to the Boo, I’d likely be more concerned about the broken glass from the dome.

Since I previously griped about the redundancy of recalls, instead of repeating myself, I’ll just link to myself: BOOM.  Today’s email featured a warning akin to the machete-laceration issue I previously took, um, issue with.  Are you ready?  Sitting down, preferably in a padded room with a separate oxygen source and lots of safe food, to keep your nearest and dearest and self safe?  All right.  Here goes: fireworks can cause burns.  I figured that one out before I hit kindygarten and it sure didn’t take a government agency.  It took a sparkler.

Safety is no accident!

Oh, Good Things

1.) I got to go to Michigan, and I didn’t have to drive!  I like Michigan, but I do not like driving.

2.) I ate all of my meals outside on Saturday.  Pleasant times one  million.

3.) I love hiking, but the tundra is not for hiking.  Depending on the season, it’s for ice and snowbanks and yetis or for marsh and corn/wheat/soy.  Flat for tractors.  However!  I found some great possibilities within a few hours.

4.) I found a natural soda that I LOVE.

5.) I found a satisfying answer to my Fathers’ Day Debate!  More on that later.

Dimes

I’m in Michigan, a state with a high deposit (and thus return) on soda* cans.  I commented to one of my friends that we totally should have brought a bunch of empty cans with us (I might have a Diet Coke habit) and funded our trip that way.  I then remembered that my nana, a proud Michigander, actually did fund summer vacations that way.  Not via soda deposit returns, but by saving dimes.  And the circle is complete.

* …or is it pop?  coke?

Alton Brown

If I did not already have a fantastic dad, I would want Alton Brown to be my dad.  He’s just that sort.  In my mind, he would make me great snacks.  Studying for the GRE?  Here’s a plate of Welsh Rarebit to keep my brain fed.  The only thing Alt has over my dad is cooking.  Well, maybe bow ties too.  Bow ties and cooking.

That is the sort of thought I have when I watch television.

I totally used one of AB’s recipes for Baconalia II; that will come.

Television Viewing

I don’t enjoy not being good at things and I am not good at watching television.  It seems like an odd thing to fail at, but I’m actually good at failing at it.

I invested some free time in practicing watching TV, and as a result am less bad at it.  I mostly watch sports, news, “news,” cartoons, and cooking shows – i.e.  commitment-free TV.   The commitment to a program is where I struggle most.   (I do have a DVR, but it is still a time issue and is also not the same.   Spoilers make me angry too, which does not help.)  In terms of programming that requires a commitment, I’m making progress with “The Next Food Network Star.”  I definitely have my favorites and sort of wish it was the sort of show that allowed viewers to call in, except for the part where that would change the show.

We’ll see how it goes.   I figure if I don’t make it to the end, eventual commercials (or the internet) will inform me as to whom wins OR I can joyfully live in ignorance where my favorite wins and a bunch of confetti and balloons drop around her.

Five Good Things

Hey, Five Good Things!  Nice to see you Monday’s mental exercise.

1.) My local solstice was sunny.  My appetite for Vitamin D is pretty much insatiable.

2.) A group I belong to held a fundraiser over the weekend.  Some of my friends attended and had a good time; none of them seemed to be there out of awkward obligation.  Also, I normally absolutely abhor fundraising, but this time I enjoyed it – and we made some money!

3.) My team is making our (hopefully triumphant) return to trivia this week!  We went on a necessary hiatus due to pesky things like finals, travel, and mandatory overtime.

4.) I have concrete fun plans – many with tickets – for every month through October.

5.) My brother made it to our dad’s place for Fathers’ Day.  I’m visiting next month (see #4 above) and sadly it is not geographically viable for me to make it both times.  Geographic viability is not always great, but trips home are!

Fathers’ Day vs. Father’s Day vs. Fathers Day

Mothers’ Day, Mother’s Day, Fathers’ Day, Father’s Day…Golly, can I get worked up over punctuation.  There are also the punctu-naked (and typically British) options of Mothers Day and Fathers Day.  I get really up in arms over Mothers’ Day and its apostrophe; I am a bit more rational about the third Sunday in June.

I don’t know if it has to do with the societal role and expectations of mothers or my own situation, but I find Fathers’ v. Father’s v. Fathers Day much less personal than its maternal counterpart.  My guess is that it’s a combination of the two, with a dash of gender-driven emotion.  Honestly, the punctuation of today is not a frequent concern of mine – it’s more intellectual.

Baconalia Review: Maple-Basted Bacon with Freshly Cracked Black Pepper and Tyranena Beer

Maple-basted bacon with freshly cracked black pepper received the most votes for ‘favorite bacon’ at Baconalia!  My working hypothesis is because it was so dang tasty.  I paired it with Tyranena’s Benji’s Chipotle Smoked Imperial Porter, which only seemed like a good idea.  See, it’s an imperial porter, and I thought the bitter of the coffee would complement the sweet of the syrup.  Chocolate never hurts.  As a bonus, this beer advertised that it had some (chipotle) pepper in it, to give it a bit of a kick; that was the same reasoning behind my cracking black pepper over my bacon!  I felt a certain kinship with the brewers.  While I did not take an official beer vote, I am pretty sure that this would have come in dead last – behind Labatt, even.  See, I bought a four-pack of this, which yielded me sixty-four ounces of gross beer.  Since it’s a tasting, everyone gets a glass and then you sort of pour as you go/desire, also rinsing as you go/desire.  More bottles are opened as we go/desire.  As we went, nobody really desired this one; the total consumption averaged less than one ounce per person, meaning I was left with three bottles of this guck.  I tried it a second time, thinking maybe the situation and pairing was what made it bad.  It wasn’t; I poured it down the drain. 

NOTE TO MY FATHER: Please note that as I did not like the beer, I threw it away.  I only drink things I like. 

All right, so we’ve established that the bacon was amazing and the beer was awful.  Let’s delve a bit deeper into the why.  With regard to amount and frequency that I baste and crack, I follow my heart versus any specific standards.  This means I make it with love; there is nothing that tastes better than love.  I also am a bit of a syrup snob, so totally use the good stuff – pure maple syrup versus maple-flavored product.  The only good thing about maple-inspired sticky product is some of the commercials.  They are very heartwarming and I often feel like I can relate is they frequently take place in the tundra.  Anyway, because of my spot-on instincts, this sticky bacon was just the right combination of sweet and salty, with a hint of a kick from the pepper.  It didn’t hurt that it was shiny and pretty. 

humidity

does not make me feel pretty.

Fortunately, Unfortunately

Fortunately, the weather accommodates my sleeping with my windows open.

Unfortunately, I don’t live in a weather bubble and my neighbors also find al fresco sleeping to be a delightful option.

Fortunately, most of my neighbors are considerate.

Unfortunately, I wrote “most of” before considerate…there’s always that one.