As I watch him pulling the chickens across the floor, I’m reminded of last night’s dominant dream… Turner was helping from England and we had charts of the currents in th elakes, not a Lake Ekalake thing exactly, but somehow a modeling for the Atlantic, and as I pulled the cord to drag that suitcase across the ocean floor it became obvious to all of us that the weight of the cord itself would cause it to fray and snap. So we patched in some canvas hose, strong material, much like the fire hoses you see coiled in hotel halls in the movies, the type of hose strong enough to hold an action hero as he bails out of the 13th floor window and drops a few floors to come crashing back into a room where a lady, carefully coiffed and wearing a white dress, is eating cake, and her eyes grow round and her mouth does too as she utters an “ohhhh,” expressing her surprise to see a stranger there.
Cathy Wilkes in a 1920′s get-up
So I pulled this suitcase across the ocean floor and naturally it got hung up on the mid-Atlantic ridge and the cord snapped anyway. Later, to continue the experiment, we dropped the suitcase west of the ridge, but as Turner pointed out there was no practical advantage to be gained by a method that required us to start past the middle. Still we experienced a feeling of success since we were able to beach that sodden suitcase on the shore of the lake here.
as if her work is coated in some slick substance that allows it to slip past the critical barrier, taking up residence in the thoughts of her audience unmediated
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At first I thought it was Sterno. Then a Scotsman told me it was truly sterner stuff or tis Turner stuff.
Turner’s tuff, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t dismiss the Sterno out of hand.
Good mid-day everybody!
It’s actually called Ekalaka Lake, some say to preserve the palindromic geographical name. We just call it the lake around here though, so I suppose Lake Ekala will do for reference purposes. (If you ever come and visit, I’ll take you over Medicine Rock. I promise you have never tasted water so sweet… The Injuns believe it has healing qualities. I don’t know if I buy into that, but it sure tastes sweet! And if you like mule deer and elk, well, you couldn’t pick a better spot. The man of the house and I do a little bow hunting in the fall, dress the haul in the field and store it in the freezer for the winter. I also make jerky with a fantastic dehydrator I bought on the home shopping network!
Rock Mountain Oysters On The Half Shell (in keeping with your nautical theme):
2 pounds bull testicles*
1 cup flour
1/4 cup cornmeal
1 cup red wine
salt
black pepper
garlic powder
Louisiana Hot Sauce
cooking oil**
*aka: calf fries, Rocky Mountain Oysters (sheep or turkey testicles may be used also)
** pure hog lard is the best, but a mixture of 60% peanut oil and 40% vegetable oil will do
With a very sharp knife, split the tough skin-like muscle that surrounds each “oyster.” Remove the skin. Set “oysters” into a pan with enough salt water to cover them for one hour (this takes out some of the blood). Drain. Transfer “oysters” to large pot. Add enough water to float “oysters” and a generous tablespoon of vinegar. Parboil, drain and rinse. Let cool and slice each “oyster” into 1/4 inch thick ovals. Sprinkle salt and pepper on both sides of sliced “oyster” to taste.
Mix flour, cornmeal and some garlic powder to taste in a bowl. Roll each “oyster” slice into this dry mixture. Dip into milk. Dip into dry mixture. Dip into wine quicky (you may repeat the procedure if a thicker crust is desired). Place each “oyster” into hot cooking oil.
Add Louisiana Hot Sauce to cooking oil (go wild with it, buy watch out for repercussions — hot splashes). Cook until golden brown or tender, and remove with a wire mesh strainer (the longer they cook, the tougher they get).
Serve in one of those cardboard beer cartons that four six packs come in, layered with paper towels. Eat ‘em, don’t wait for nothin’! Chase with beer.
Variations include serving cooked “oysters” on a real oyster half shell with a sprig of parsley and a few drops of lemon juice.
Have a good one, Captain!
I didn’t know Turner was still blogging. Are you sure it wasn’t PorridgeBoy?