Posted by: David | October 1, 2009

Foilage Colors!

Yup. Foilage. Purposely misspelled. For no apparent reason. It’s hard to come up with a random yet catchy title for an unwritten blog post, and this is the best I can do at the moment. For some stupid reason I usually try to cough up the title first. Usually something comes from the assemblage of photos … but not this time. I’ve been working very hard for the past few months and I’m pinin’ for the fjords. Think I’ll take Friday off. Definitely taking Friday off.

Pass this perfect lollipop tree on the way to work every morning.

A few days later. I’ve driven by this tree over 5,000 times in the past 11 years.

Bragged about our onion harvest previously, right? Well here’s some photographic evidence of same.

It’s a bushel of onions. Many are baseball sized. You can’t eat them like apples though, cuz they’re frickin ONIONS!

Need to plant much more garlic this October.

Love them peppers. Wash, bag, freeze. Or grind to salsa in the blender.

It says “BUMP 600 FT”. The state is working on the road. Not much of a bump really, but thanks for the heads up.

My commute is a pleasant and reasonable 13 miles one way. And the number of miles I can bicycle in an hour, on average. It’s a state route and is pretty well maintained. In the 11 years I’ve been driving it, I can count on the fingers of 3 hands the number of times my drive was scary. Usually it’s an uneventful jaunt, with NPR, phone call with BFF, or 3 or 4 songs from whatever music I’m presently connecting to.Every day squirrels or chipmunks scurry before my car, once a week I see wild turkeys, once a month a deer or a fox, and sometimes I see inexplicable things like this …

You could never guess what this was in a million years. It’s a gnu.

This is the US Economy Shrine. A new jalapeno has been hired. 3 cheers for October.

This is an enormous jalapeno next to a chef knife for scale. Quarter pounder?

That is all for now. Thanks for reading. Catch you on the flip side, as they say. What if we’re already on the flip side?


  1. You know, David, you almost got me. Oh sure, your plant porn is, as always, among the most alluring in it’s genre. And the great floating gnu is, to say the least, unique. But I had trouble with your direction from the first shot.

    You see, as you are aware, I’m nearing the end of another endless summer of mowing. I figured I’d get a week, maybe two, where no one would find a need to speak to me of yard work.

    I am, as you are also well aware, quite dumb.

    We’re at dinner with my girlfriends mother. It is going well. By that I mean, I’m eating and being very quiet. I find it safer if I don’t speak so filling my mouth with food tends to fill the need to maw.

    During a moment her mother asks me, because I seem to be leaving a portion on potatoes behind, if I don’t like that tuber.

    “The lack of potatoes killed half my people,” I say. “It’s genetic to my survival that I embrace it. I’m just full.”

    Although I know an American stating fullness is an oddity, we move past.

    “Oh,” she says maintaining my attention. “I can’t believe that leaves are going to begin to fall. All that raking!”

    What the. . .? Did she just. . .? I’d better stick some potatoes in my mouth before that sound thing happens. We know nothing good would happen if that transpired.

    I have a term for that behavior. I call it pre-bitching. You find it often when people tell you how bad traffic may be. Or how crappy the weather might be. Or how badly they could feel after I beat them severely about the head and shoulders with many blunt objects.

    Yes, many leaves fall. Yes, many leaves fall across the street which, because of that neighbors less than anal desire to clear leaves, blow onto her property. Yes, I will spend just as much time in the great outdoors in the crispness of fall as I did the stifling of summer but I don’t want to hear about it three to four weeks previous!

    Please, allow me to live in a state of ignorant bliss where there is a possibility I won’t have to think about moving items which will naturally degrade in the spot they fell way back, deep into the property where only small woodland creatures, even smaller ticks and I go.

    So, David, you’re really not helping today! But, I will admit, I almost actually enjoy it in a positive manner.

    Hey B&G and thank you for this stellar comment. 🙂 I’ve done my final mowing I’m pretty sure, and never bother with leaves much. The wind seems to remove most of them. I totally sympathize with you on the workload comments of certain seniors. My old man loves to make comments about how much work it will be to clean up this or that mess, supposing that imagined task will fall to me. Fortunately most of the tasks he dreams up are unnecessary from my POV. May all the “pre-bitchers” of the world be condemned to a Hell where TV is all commercials all the time, with brief interludes of noisy static.

    • It is quite a waste of time. In her area there are no fences between neighbors. I don’t have to tell you what that means. We spent a day (one of my few days off due to my indentured servitude) cleaning every leaf from the property. When left it was spotless.

      She comes down a day or so later and calls (at first I typed galls which, truly, also fits) her daughter freaking out. Seems there were leaves (“Soooooo many leaves.”) on the property she was calling to scold us for wasting our time, I don’t know, maybe enjoying ourselves. After much to and fro I’m not sure if there was actually a winning party. Needless to say, I’m glad I don’t have much involvement in those conversations. She rarely interacts with me in a negative manner. I get it second hand.

      That said: potatoes.

      I really do, my joke of yesterday notwithstanding, love potatoes. I don’t know, maybe it is genetic. What struck me as odd about her question was, she’s witnessed me eating all kinds of potatoes throughout the years. It made it easy for me to make that joke figuring she was tying to get me, in my own fashion, to enter the conversation. What was that I said yesterday right here? Oh yeah, there it is: “I am, as you are also well aware, quite dumb.”

      Turns out there was a reason. I should know better than to assume someone actually searches out conversation with me.

      We made a trip over so I can install her new cable box. Not a problem. Glad to do it. Plugs out, plugs in, gone. You do remember what I’ve said about my dumbness, right?

      The new cable box is sitting next to the old cable box. The new one is smaller with no outlet in the back. No problem. Go to the wall. Problem. Three plugs will not fit into two outlets. No problem. Get a power strip. Get everything hooked up. Program the new remote for the TV. Get the screen I’m supposed to see. Have someone call for activation. Problem.

      It’s not supposed to replace the old cable box, it’s for another TV in the house. I didn’t even know there was another TV in the house. Last I’d heard she dumped it. But, alas, there is. No problem. Unplug and replug everything to it’s original state. Go to other room. Plug everything in. Call for activation. Done. Thank you. You’re welcome. We leave.

      “By the way,” my girlfriend converses in the truck. “Next time you order potatoes don’t let the waitress take them.”

      Huh? Why only potatoes? Although that thought passes my head I’m not dumb enough to utter it.

      “My mother was upset you didn’t touch your potatoes and let the waitress take them.”

      Huh? I ate half! I honored the dead (who you real have to think were stubborn bastards. “We’re so hungry. If only there were potatoes.” “Hey! I have some lamb. I got a nice stew going.” “No, no thanks. We’ll wait on the potatoes.”). They sat there for minutes before they were taken. She could have said something at any time in the proceedings.

      “Well, she didn’t and said she really would have liked some.”

      And that’s how chores come to Chris.

      It’s truly amazing how closely we sometimes calculate things isn’t it? I eat lunch often at the college’s dining hall. The food there is excellent and a great bargain at one five dollar and fifty cent swipe of my ID card. I definitely get my money’s worth lemme tell ya. And yet, when I eat with colleagues who don’t clean their plates, I sometimes ask, “hey, can I have those fries” or “aren’t you gonna finish yer chicken nuggets”? Sometimes it’s just to get a reaction, sometimes it’s just that obsessive & nagging compulsion to not waste any food.

      So, while I truly sympathize with your predicament, all I can think to suggest is that, in the future, you do not leave any of your portions unfinished at the restaurant. Or, if this is not possible, offer the remains to mom. Or how bout this, maybe she’d be happy if you asked to take the leftovers home … where they could rot in your fridge and be quietly chucked a few days later. Nice that you have a girlfriend worth all that trouble. Guess that’s all I got for now.

      Thanks for the awesomely amusing comment dude!!

  2. Okay, DAD! I’ll do my homework and take out the garbage too!

    Hahahahahahahaha. I agree with you totally. If we were eating and you asked if you could have whatever was on my plate, if I was done or not, what the hell? As long as it gets finished. And if it doesn’t you can bet it’s getting bagged. Hell, my girlfriend asks for the bread other people leave for the critters.

    That said, honestly, if I’d taken what was left of the potatoes that were left home the fox would have been banging on the door with it in his paw saying, “Are you kiddin’ ’bout this? Thanks, pal! All this is goin’ ta do is remind me I live outside and am hungry all the time.”

    Three bites, max.

    And I would have gladly handed it over. To anyone. Someone walking makes a comment, here ya go! Guy across the room views askew at it, BANG! It’s on his plate. I may not be bringing the heat of old but my control is still there.

    Why is the onus on me? I wrote something recently stating I am not a mind reader, didn’t I? That hasn’t changed. I don’t know what you want unless it is made obvious to me. I don’t do subtle clues (“Hmm. She’s sitting there seemingly not interested in my taters. I wonder. . .?” BANG! I dollop of taters right there on your plate!) well. I’m usually in my own dinner world thinking, “Ummmmmm. Ummm. Ummmmm. Beer.”

    I can see why you’d offer the excellent advice of, ‘. . .do not leave any of your portions unfinished. . .’ I really do and am pretty good at completing my meals. But, the downside to that, and you know it well, is that I’d have a ‘need’ to get that plate clean.

    How long until I’m sitting there, already a member of the clean plate club, before I snap and start licking the plate?

    “Is it clean now? Did I get it clean this time?”

    You know it could happen.

    Yes, my excellent advice and feigned equanimity are supremely annoying no? I’m sure you are a good plate cleaner. “Finish your lima beans or no more beer Christopher,” I can hear your momma sayin … (lima beans and beer probably very gassy!) Great that your GF feeds leftovers to the wild turkeys in your backyard too.

    I don’t know why the onus is on you. Maybe it’s how the Universe gets even with you for cutting the cheese at the skunk exhibit. Although, if I were the Universe, I’d be thinking that all was right with the world just then. 🙂

  3. What a pleasant way to spend my morning… extremely entertaining to eavesdrop on your conversation.
    Love the photos, T0D!
    Love the stories, B&G!
    wait! was that a LIVE gnu? WHAT?!?! crazy NHers

    Thank you Care. Hope that didn’t take all morning. 🙂 The town of New London (Gnu London?) has a whole herd of these fiberglass gnus scattered all up and down Main street. It IS kinda crazy.

  4. I don’t know if you use special colour settings or what, but every time you post pictures from your vegetable garden, the stuff looks so vibrant! Like I DO want to eat an onion like an apple…don’t you think I could pull it off? 😉

    HI ROMI! Sorry for shouting. Just glad you visited …

    As I’ve admitted a few times here, I totally doctor up almost every photo I post here in Microsoft Office (2007) Picture Manager. Crop, color saturation to 42, click Auto Repair, compress for documents. Yup it makes them colours POP. Fake fake fake. My real life is so drab and dreary. All gray brown and beige. 😦

    I kid. But I’m sure you could eat an onion like an apple. If it came time to wager, I’d put $10 on Romi and the onion, without hesitation.

  5. I think “Foilage” is a great name. There is a fabric dyeing technique using foil to create wonderful patterns. One could use those fall foilage colors. Also, there are those who wrap lovely veg such as yours in foil to grill them. So, it all fits.
    It’s always a pleasure to visit your vibrant part of the country from my desert. Do you ship your big onions? Wholesale? Retail?
    It’s a bonus to get what amounts to another blogpost from Thoughts-0-boundandgags. 2-for-1.
    Happy gnu year.

    Hi museditions, thanks for visiting and playing the mispronounciation game. I like the way you make it all fit. I wonder what it would cost to ship an onion to the Sonoran Desert. Thanks for asking and for paying such a nice compliment to boundandgags and me. Happy gnu year to you too.

  6. “Pining for the fjords,” eh? Why do we “pine” away but “spruce” up. Hey, I’m just aspen…Yew know? And “Foilage” is okay for a title, I guess. A poplar choice. But here I think the word you really want is “Fjolage.” Yes, fjolage would be better. Fir what it’s worth.

    My god vermonter, you’ve gone totally coniferous! Wood that I could compeat. For the record, the fjords are probably the very last thing I’d actually pine for. 🙂 Thanks for the pithy commentary.

  7. p.s. and have you noticed: many of the maple leaves this year went straight from green to red, and even dropped off the tree when they were only half-changed. Two tone. In Christmas colors. Forest looks like a bloody massacre site.

    Yes, I did notice some two-tone maple leaves. It was weird. But cool. Lots of blaze orange too. Love it!

  8. But I must have told you that onions can be eaten like apples, and that this necessary in many places, though not (yet) in the USA, apparently.

    But I am really worried about the USA, you know. Yesterday I landed somewhere on a CNN WordPress blog and there were comments a mile long, approximately 99.999876% to insult Cheney and his daughter.

    While basically I, with all my heart, agreed with most of those insults and could have improved on most of them either because of their spelling or their grammar, I would have found it pointless to add to the pile, but my worry came from elsewhere, from way back?

    Why, why, why was the same subject mum two years ago?

    Anyway, roer cebolla I think is the old expression: gnaw on an onion. Lots of vitamin C.

    And I think I am getting stiffed be Kalamazoo which, here in Spain, is an office material supplier. Because of its name we thought it was linked to the USA Kalamazoo and so trusted the outfit.

    I am getting stiffed for only some 10 dollars, but in such a classical way that it gives me the insomnia of humiliation:

    1. They sent 2 invoices, one to my home address, one online and to the bank, some 10 dollars higher.

    2. When I told them about the “mistake”, they answered back they would pay back the difference.

    3. So I waited and thereby missed the deadline to cancel the bank charge.

    When I wrote to them again to say I had not received the refund, they did not answer anymore.

    When I called them they said they would call back, which they have not done yet.


    I think I found that CNN Newsticker link … eewwwww [expression of disgust]

    The onion eating idea is associated with advertisements for sweet vidalias often described as being so mild that you can eat them like an apple. These types of onions are for people who don’t really like onions. Onions are supposed to make you cry. Right?

    The plight of the USA is making you cry too it sounds like … While there’s certainly plenty to worry about, worrying is a waste of energy. Personally, I fear the polarization the most. From what you quote of Obama over on your blog, I think (hope) that he is concerned about this as well. Perhaps our economic woes will have some dampening effect on this divisiveness. Probably not. We’ll fight to the death over the very last onion.

    Sorry to hear that Kalamazoo is putting the screws to you. 😦 So much for trusting in a Michigan city.

  9. The refund has come in!

    They are not in Michigan, but in Spain and not related to any US Kalamazoo company. Yet it was their name which made me trust them completely, even though I saw that the first invoice was a chapuza = what they call a slipshod job here, in Spain.

    In fact, I somehow assumed that such a sloppy invoice could not be a cheat. The things listed did not add up to the total and the typical Spanish value-added tax was mentioned but not specified.

    Since the amount was so small, everybody in the world, many billion people, would have told me to forget it. Just keeps me sleepless. A small cheat, but painstakingly figured out is a very ugly thing. If I get cheated by an immigrant selling peanuts in the street, I don’t even mind.

    Well congratulations my blog-friend! But I don’t understand what it is about the name “KALAMAZOO” that would inspire confidence.

    If the whole world actually wrote you a note saying “forget that Kalamazoo scammed you, it happens every day” would you sleep better? I sure would! What irritates me nowadays are those fake antivirus messages popping up on people’s computers. But I sleep well in spite of it.

    Oh, and I would advise against buying peanuts from immigrants in the street. No offense to the immigrants.

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