I haven't had much to say in this space lately. Sorry, Mom, and whoever else might have been looking in.

From "The Innocents Abroad"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After prayers the Synagogue shortly took the semblance of a writing school. The like of that picture was never seen in a ship before. Behind the long dining tables on either side of the saloon, and scattered from one end to the other of the latter, some twenty or thirty gentlemen and ladies sat them down under the swaying lamps and for two or three hours wrote diligently in their journals. Alas! that journals so voluminously begun should come to so lame and impotent a conclusion as most of them did! I doubt if there is a single pilgrim of all that host but can show a hundred fair pages of journal concerning the first twenty days' voyaging in the Quaker City, and I am morally certain that not ten of the party can show twenty pages of journal for the succeeding twenty thousand miles of voyaging! At certain periods it becomes the dearest ambition of a man to keep a faithful record of his performances in a book; and he dashes at this work with an enthusiasm that imposes on him the notion that keeping a journal is the veriest pastime in the world, and the pleasantest. But if he only lives twenty-one days, he will find out that only those rare natures that are made up of pluck, endurance, devotion to duty for duty's sake, and invincible determination may hope to venture upon so tremendous an enterprise as the keeping of a journal and not sustain a shameful defeat.

One of our favorite youths, Jack, a splendid young fellow with a head full of good sense, and a pair of legs that were a wonder to look upon in the way of length and straightness and slimness, used to report progress every morning in the most glowing and spirited way, and say:

"Oh, I'm coming along bully!" (he was a little given to slang in his happier moods.) "I wrote ten pages in my journal last night -- and you know I wrote nine the night before and twelve the night before that. Why, it's only fun!"

"What do you find to put in it, Jack?"

"Oh, everything. Latitude and longitude, noon every day; and how many miles we made last twenty-four hours; and all the domino games I beat and horse billiards; and whales and sharks and porpoises; and the text of the sermon Sundays (because that'll tell at home, you know); and the ships we saluted and what nation they were; and which way the wind was, and whether there was a heavy sea, and what sail we carried, though we don't ever carry any, principally, going against a head wind always -- wonder what is the reason of that? -- and how many lies Moult has told -- Oh, every thing! I've got everything down. My father told me to keep that journal. Father wouldn't take a thousand dollars for it when I get it done."

"No, Jack; it will be worth more than a thousand dollars -- when you get it done."

"Do you? -- no, but do you think it will, though?

"Yes, it will be worth at least as much as a thousand dollars -- when you get it done. May be more."

"Well, I about half think so, myself. It ain't no slouch of a journal."

But it shortly became a most lamentable "slouch of a journal." One night in Paris, after a hard day's toil in sightseeing, I said:

"Now I'll go and stroll around the cafes awhile, Jack, and give you a chance to write up your journal, old fellow."

His countenance lost its fire. He said:

"Well, no, you needn't mind. I think I won't run that journal anymore. It is awful tedious. Do you know -- I reckon I'm as much as four thousand pages behind hand. I haven't got any France in it at all. First I thought I'd leave France out and start fresh. But that wouldn't do, would it? The governor would say, 'Hello, here -- didn't see anything in France? That cat wouldn't fight, you know. First I thought I'd copy France out of the guide-book, like old Badger in the for'rard cabin, who's writing a book, but there's more than three hundred pages of it. Oh, I don't think a journal's any use -- -do you? They're only a bother, ain't they?"

"Yes, a journal that is incomplete isn't of much use, but a journal properly kept is worth a thousand dollars -- when you've got it done."

"A thousand! -- well, I should think so. I wouldn't finish it for a million."

His experience was only the experience of the majority of that industrious night school in the cabin. If you wish to inflict a heartless and malignant punishment upon a young person, pledge him to keep a journal a year.

Hob is burbling along nicely.

Making a Hobgoblin clone today. Ran out of propane mid-brew and had to move indoors to dinky kitchen range. What a hassle!

Merry Christmas from Die Chermans

My new spring cleaning theory

( I'm working on a Giant Plan for cleaning out my possessions this coming holiday break. )

We are expecting snow here in Folsom tomorrow morning. Whee! Californians on Ice!

I just started a cause on Facebook called "Save the White Elephants!" This is basically to ask you for a pledge to give your Christmas returns to charity rather than brave the crowds and stand in line at the store to get a slightly different sweater, or exchange the toaster for a video game. Everyone wins! You get the warm fuzzy of donation, you don't have to tell your friends and loved ones you exchanged their gifts, the store doesn't need to deal with you, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, the charity gets a brand new item rather than the broken faded castoffs they're used to.

This is worth the 1:30, trust me. Chinese news on Tiger Woods vs. wife, fire hydrant, tree, cops...

courtesy of Krista

it's like he's talking directly to my soul

I have been writing a bit. I've fleshed out my Sarge and Lt. mystery story into about 2/3 of a book outline. But 1700 words a day for NaNoWriMo is right out of my league, given present work-and-play load.

Feeling a bit out of control lately. Not in a fast and wild sort of way, in a drifting towards icebergs sort of way. I know this is related to my workout prohibition.

Last weekend I made a whole wheat sourdough that has lasted me the whole week. Not because it was big, but because it was so very sour. I think it needs more sugar. Most 100% whole wheat recipes you see have about a tablespoon of sugar for each cup of flour so I guess I should have expected it. I let it rise in a bowl but when I plopped it on the baking stone it just pooled, so it was very wide and flat. This seems to happen with all my sourdoughs. If I want to make sandwiches I need to use loaf pans.

This weekend, I'm making 10% and a 40% sourdough rye loaves.

Our club Halloween party was last night and was a good time if not a huge party. Last year I organized the party and justified my costumelessness with being too busy. But I was the only one there out of 40-ish people to not have a costume. Chastened, I made a costume this year. It seems to have been a success. Will post pictures as soon as I get any.

I found them! I found the non-flours. In the bulk goods, not in the baking aisle.

- spelt
- semolina
- rye

Time to now make some bread that is actually interesting and not merely nourishing!

There's also bread flour over there that costs about a third what the Gold Medal brand does, and whole wheat bread and cake flours, which are finer ground than the mealy stuff in the baking aisle.

Projects this weekend...

- Working on Halloween costume. It was supposed to be ready for a party tonight but isn't coming together, and I'll be putting on the Charlie Brown outfit. Hopefully it will be done for next week's thing. I've nevertheless learned a lot; for instance, fabric glue takes forever to dry, better to use glue gun and staples; also, flannel cuts easier with the tin snips than with the cheap scissors.

- Bread... I'm preparing a sourdough whole wheat loaf. In the past this has been a muddy and not very appetizing disaster but I keep trying.

- Beer... The pale ale I made last month is way too bitter. I'm going to make a half-batch of beer with dry malt extract and only a little hops, and make a blend. I've never tried this before, should be interesting to see how it turns out. Also it's time to keg the stout I made two weeks back.

Oh, and Facebook and dog walks and laundry. Lots of that.

In addition to a lot more bread, I made butter yesterday. This turns out to be pretty easy:

1. buy pint of cream
2. put in food processor
3. whip til it's whipped cream. This took a long time, I think cause my pint was "ultra-pasteurized"
4. then keep going til it grains up into butter
5. Strain and knead a little to get rid of the buttermilk

I have to say that, while this made good butter, it isn't any better than what you can buy. And having proved I can do it, I don't need to do it again.

I made beer and bread this weekend. And I thought, how much of a pain in the ass must this have been before gas and electric? When you had to use wood for everything? How much wood did it take to boil a pan of water, much less boil a whole barrel of beer for an hour, or keep an oven hot enough to bake? Wood that you lit with flint and steel?

I'm back on to talking about frivolous things that people want to talk about: gossip, movies, etc. I played Rock Band last night and today I'm making a nice pub stout to replace that awful pale ale, as well as a batch of bread.

( The former went nicely, the latter...  )

Mead update.

Fermentation is stalled out again, it seems.  Or at least the yeast isn't flocculating.  Didn't get a chance to check the gravity.  I transferred it off the oak chips tonight and did manage to check the pH.  Pretty low!  Need to add some buffer, calcium carbonate or similar.  My mead book scolds me for not having checked it to begin with.

I also transferred the latest beer to the fridge.  It's supposed to be a Sierra Nevada clone but I don't have high hopes for it.  It seems on first runnings to be super bitter, and not enough hop flavor to go with the bitterness.

A few weeks ago, at work, I was moved to a freshly remodeled building.  About the same time, our charity club took over the snack bar in the previous building.  So I started up an outpost of it over here.  It's right next to the snack machine so I have it pretty limited to a few items that aren't in the machine.

Sales started slow and I wasn't counting out every day.  The last time was 9/17, and I left $5 change in the cup.  Today I brought in some inventory and checked the cup.  It had $1.25 in it.  I've been ripped off.

Now I work in an office behind a locked door.  I'm pretty sure no one is in need of the lunch money level of cash that was in there.  What kind of dick steals from charity?

Inventory has been steadily disappearing, too, as it should.  I choose to believe for now that it's not also shoplifting.

I will need to switch entirely to pie.  Well, that's not so bad.


Meanwhile, this, courtesy of Jalopnik.