Year One: completed!

They say that time flies when you’re having fun…

…and the last three hundred and sixty five days proved to be the quickest year of my life thus far.

This time last year, I married my best friend.

True to our casual selves, we celebrated with a quiet dinner at home (cooked on the grill! Hooray for spring!)…

..and a toast, complete with cheesy glasses! Mimosas, from a gift given to us by a dear friend on the day that we signed the papers.

(To set Bruce’s mind at ease, our initial toast was made with the champagne in the spotlight…and it was delicious. Though he’ll probably glare at me for referring to it as “champagne” and not “sparkling Chardonnay”, as he is an alcohol fancypants. We made mimosas (or, perhaps more accurately, Buck’s Fizz) with what was left. Sorry, Bruce. All the same, thank you for being in our lives).

We have spent the last two years (the most recent as man and wife) constantly in each other’s company…and we have thrived. We work together, we play together, and I can think of no better way to spend the rest of my life than side-by-side with my best friend.
We have a lot of ambition, even if we are often plagued by a frustrating lack of focus. I have no doubt that our ideas and dreams will take us through amazing times and places in our life together.

But if success is ultimately measured by the happiness that one finds daily, sharing life with my ideal companion…in the fact that I am able to wake beside you, to talk and laugh and dream with you, to hold your hand as we journey onward…to grow old with you…

…I could not ask for more. No matter where life takes us, or what is handed to us, you are the success of my life.

My love to you, husbandfellow. Now and always.

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End of March Boozing

So, as per usual, we only remembered to blog this following all the work put into it… dolts.  I’ll go ahead and let the (shoddy) photographs handle most of the dialog and witty banter:

Left to right: Limoncello, Ginger, Coconut and Champaign Mango.

The Limoncello consists of the zest of 15 lemons and 1.75l of vodka. after 45 days we’ll strain out the zest, add simple syrup and let it mature for another 45 days.

If anyone reading this has made their own liquors before you probably flinched hard at the container, the the old wives tale is that plastic contains all kinds of poisons and blah blah blah: the only truth to it is the fact that alcohol CAN act as a solvent in SOME plastics. This is a Rubbermade Seal’n'Saver 1.1gallon container made out of Polypropylene, recognized by PP and with a recycle logo containing a 5 on the bottom of the container, which is not attacked by ethyl alcohol (See: Here)

If I’m wrong and it poisons us and we die…. Well, the blog posts are likely to pick up then aren’t they?

As for the ginger there isn’t much to say, its a 1/2 tsp of powdered ginger in 1 1/2 cups vodka. Obviously powdered isn’t preferable, but this will be the first of our experiments ready to try, about a week from now. We just have this giant tub of the stuff and like the Skyy Vodka Ginger Infusion so we’ll take a crack at our own. (The first one is free, Skyy and Co.)

This one is apt to be exciting: 10-11 ounces of coconut combined with a splash of vanilla extract, 1 1/2 cups of Vodka and 3 oz of brandy. rumor has it that it won’t need any simple syrup added since the coconut contains so much natural sugar, so we’ll see. We actually had to up the dosage of alcohol to completely cover the coconut, recipe called for 10oz of vodka and 2 of brandy.

Picked up a case of Champagne Mangos from our most recent trip to town, been making myself sick eating them they’re so tasty. rather than the green/red/yellow ones you are used to seeing these bad boys are no larger than the palm of your hand and ripen from green to yellow to gold (with a distinct difference in yellow to gold, pretty slick really)

We even added one to our shrimp curry last night and it added a great burst of sweet to an otherwise intensely spicy dinner. gotta buy more of these if they’re still around next time we make it to town.

Alright folks, sorry that it isn’t nearly so exciting as the finished product, but hey, we’ll get there and post more regularly too!

(Next on the agenda: Cherry mint and Peanut liquors. Maybe another batch of Banana, this time not Creme De Banana, which was tasty but too tasty.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Blog posts…how do THEY work?

ICP: Enough miracles to blow your brains.

/outdated jokes about a couple of outdated jokes.

We’re still here, of course, making our way through the winter months. Been keeping busy with several current projects (and hundreds of distractions) and gearing up for the larger, more intimidating things that will come with Spring…it will be interesting, to say the least. Perhaps more will be posted later, perhaps not. Which leads me to the point of this entry…

While there are elements of our life that I am more than happy to share with people that we care about, I am less than thrilled at the prospect of sharing these things with those who are decidedly other. The sentiment may seem overblown, considering the fact that our readership levels have yet to climb beyond “several”, yet I feel strongly that elements of our life are ours to divulge when and where (and to whom) we see fit. In my interactions, I’ve automatically assumed things said to me to be confidential unless stated otherwise…and expect the things we say about ourselves, about others, about life in general to be treated with the same level of respect.

Hence, the dilemma that is blogging.

I already hesitate at the keyboard. Not for fear that some random individual will connect all of the dots and stalk us/kill us/steal our rum – because really, who would risk that wrath? – but rather, hesitation caused by the knowledge that certain people could acquire information that I simply do not want them to have…even if that information is something I would willingly share with most of the world. Perhaps it is a matter of control, in some awkward fashion: I don’t care who sees this, so long as these people do not.

Not that anything is particularly private – I’ve been around these here Intarwebs long enough to know better…

…bah. I’ve rambled myself off into the brambles. Back to the point!

I will likely be looking into privacy settings…but, generally, those come with some limitations that we may not wish to accept. I don’t know – we haven’t discussed it at all and, seeing how often we post, it isn’t particularly vital at this point.

We’ll see what happens. For the time being, I leave you with yet another outdated laughy-bit.

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Dad:

Some photos of the spiral staircase in Vi’s cabin. Ignoring the horrible attempt at a railing, we are looking at redoing it as a bookcase, whadda ya think?

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Pumpkin Deux: Electric Jack’o'looo

So we are a lazy bunch here at AFS… but the pumpkin update WILL be forthcoming.

As was mentioned earlier, the roasted pumpkin had to be mashed up later on, via the potato masher from the drawer.

Resulting in this delicious looking vomit:

Which is rudely strained of it’s pulpy bits.

Once that’s done, it can be filtered through a good old cone coffee filter…

NOT the most scientific of methods, but I’m not about to gunk up the new coffee maker to pass highly alcoholic beverages at near boiling temperatures into a thin glass carafe.

Here you can see the half way point, probably 4-5 coffee filters in and the silt like solids have settled a bit in the source jar, pretty neat stuff:

It starts to develop the proper color once you get enough into the jar, more strange magics.

Behold! all the liquid, none of the solids, ready to sit in the jar for at least another month

Well, not without a little taste test.  You can see how thin and watery it seems at the moment, It doesn’t have many more qualities than Alcohol+water+sugar, it will take time to meld.

Note: these photos were taken nearly a month ago and I’m just now posting them, you will have already seen the post depicting what it looks like now. I’ll comment on the flavor then. In the meantime I’ll show you  what we do with the leftovers:

This is the semi-alcoholic waste product from straining the solids away, since you can see how much color is still in it it’s pretty obvious that there is more to be done with it.

A good start, slop it into a pan with some more cinnamon and 2 cups of brown sugar, cook and simmer and whatnot until it looks very nearly unappetizing.

Not quite pulpy any more and more of a thick gloppy paste.

Ever had Apple Butter? Well meet it’s cousin: Pun’kin Butter! To be honest, this turned out better than even the pumpkin liqueur. Fridge it, spread it on toast, eat within the week.

Don’t forget to roast the seeds too!

UPDATE:

Continuing on the theme of laziness… I just know that I won’t post this, then post an update post, I might as well just get it over with:

There’s probably the final color, as you can see, not quite the autumn we were going for, but a couple of drops of food coloring would definitely spice it up. presentation is half the battle. As with a few of our other experiments it turns out quite a bit too subtle, the pumpkin flavor, even after using nearly 3-4 TIMES the recommended amount of flesh and roasting it (should have gone for burnt instead of toasted methinks.) the potency of the sugar water overpowers the flavor.

Granted, this is from room temperature. Were you to cool it and shake over ice (with just a little more coloring) and serve with whipped cream and cinnamon (or more pumpkin spice) as a Pumpkintini, it would probably turn out perfectly. (and that theory will be put to the test ASAP.)

Meanwhile it’s time to dig back into the banana liqueur and drown my Halloween sorrows.

Maybe that candy cane liqueur isn’t such a bad idea…

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Just a test.

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Mainly, so that we don’t forget…

Just a quick note to mention that yesterday, or perhaps the day before (I’ll be blogger of the year in no time, we opened up the pumpkin jar and smooshed all of the chunks into pulp, in hopes that more flavor will spread through the vodka.

I can’t say that it looks like anything remotely luscious (I imagine this would be what the vomit of giant, alcoholic termites would look like)…but it smells nearly divine. As alcoholic pumpkin pie should *grins*

More later…

EDIT: oh, and we removed the now-gigantic cinnamon stick.

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..this is ourselves.

This has been making the rounds in the popular circles (such as BoingBoing)…and is one of the most personally important things that I have seen in quite some time. It makes no difference to me that the man isn’t actually homeless, as it doesn’t make his cause any more or less important. To be completely honest,  though it is indeed a beautiful way to raise awareness for a cause, my interest is awfully self-indulgent.

Blogging is a difficult concept for me – I’m not much of one for trying to find something to say just for the sake of saying something. I was relatively extroverted, once upon a time, but it was a trait I lost somewhere along the way to adulthood.  I’d prefer to say nothing than to portray my thoughts incorrectly. Sometimes, though, there is nothing that can be said….and yet, it must be expressed, experienced, and felt.

This is one of those occasions.

Music has always affected me in ways that most others seem to not quite understand. From points of early recollection, my thoughts and interests veered away from those of my peers. I learned from Bill Hicks, I preferred Jim Henson to…just about anything. Rock, especially from bands considered to be classic (Queen and Bowie both among the staggering numbers) helped me to survive the Britney Spears/boyband onslaught of the mid-90′s (I’m Afraid of Americans was particularly potent when I first heard it), and the coinciding alienation from ads, fads, trends, and the opinions of my supposed peer set. Some learn to find comfort and truth in an imagined deity or friends, or a thousand other sources of solace. I turned, largely, to the written word and music.

In crucial moments, in places and times and situations that will not be recalled here, music (aside from the love of my spouse) has provided the closest thing I have ever felt to spirituality. However isolated, however alienated one feels, there is a strand of collective consciousness woven into a well-penned lyric…an unspoken understanding to be found in a poignant melody or rhythm. Under Pressure, aside from it’s personal application in my own life, is an incredible example of this.

(…can’t we give ourselves one more chance? Why can’t we give love that one more chance?…)

I have rambled here, toying with the concept of deleting what I’ve written. I cannot, and will not be able to explain to exact manner in which this has touched me – again, it is something to be seen and felt, not explained. The accumulation of human elements: love and sorrow, fear and innocence; poetry and puppetry, compassion and pain, vital emotion and expression. My heart and stomach dance unabashedly, simultaneously tying themselves in knots.

If nothing else, I have been reminded of several aspects of my constitution: certain elements within myself of undeniable importance:  classic rock,  compassion,  and Kermit.

And it has yet to become any easier to choke back the tears.

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Pumpkin Liqueur Massacre

Tonight we murdered pumpkins for science.

A long trip into town for winter tires (after much deliberation we went with studs) and groceries, we plucked the two of these from Sams club and jostled them home in an overstuffed car.

The plan was relatively simple, Carve one, cook the other and make alcohol of it’s succulent flesh.

First we clean it, skin it and chop it into little bits.

Into the oven, 400 degrees f for 50 minutes.

At this point you either find patience or you find a way to cool the cooked bits, I just put them in the jar and placed the jar in a sink filled with ice cold water, didn’t do much good, Ress just told me to be patient and wait.

A good a time as any to explain the jar was unclean and had to have it’s contents removed and bottled:

Rhubarb-Strawberry Liqueur, a good way to await the cooling pumpkin mush.

Enough waiting, on with the science! 1 Tbs pumpkin pie spice (not too much, you might not get it all back..)

I’ll go ahead and let you guess what this fella is..

Add Zee Booze!

Tadaa! Going to let this soak for at least a month and spin it whenever I remember too. At the end of the month we will strain it, mix in some simple syrup and let it rest until at least thanksgiving, The goal of coarse is Pumpkin Pie Martinis.

Into your hole you filthy brute! ( Everything you see here will be discussed at a later date and explained to the best of our abilities)

We are just getting the hang of this blogging idea, so whenever we are about 75% through a project one of us will suddenly say “Why aren’t we taking photos of this!?” and it kind of goes on from there…

Really, only 304 words? wow…

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I’m here, too!

Not much to say, really…at least, not yet. We’ll see what can be done about that.

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