THROWBACK THURSDAY

Today's forecast from the Weather Gods calls for a high temperature of 76 degrees.

The photos are from a month and a half ago.

Very low cloud over StoneRidge.

A night time visitor revealed in the snow.

Looks like coyote tracks to me and they do inhabit the area.

Whatever it was it walked across my front yard in the night.

SAILING AND LANDING

If you ever wanted to know what it would be like to sail around the world alone on a small boat you may want to read Webb Chiles' log of his journey from Durban, South Africa, to St. Helena in the mid-Atlantic in a tiny (24-foot) sailboat.

It is a harrowing tale, at least for this landlubber, and it can be found here.

Keep in mind, this is a 75 year old man!

As for myself, I'll do no such adventuring.

I'll just wait for spring to come for sure.

The temperature has climbed to the 70's this week and the robins have landed once again.

Still, it is only the 8th of March and the Weather Gods have fooled us before.

TUESDAY TUPPENCE

Here's my sparse two cents for the day.

Webb Chiles has updated his blog with the story of his 2,500 nautical mile journey from Durban, South Africa, to St. Helena island.

If you're so inclined, you can read it here.

On the home (and culinary) front, I bought a dozen goodies from The Samosa Lady last week.

My provider is the one on the left in this old picture taken at the square in Prescott.

She shows up at the Prescott Valley Farmers Market.

I had never tried samosas before and got a couple of free tastes and then bought half a dozen with chorizo filling and another half dozen stuffed with egg and potato.

They were frozen and we had some of them the other night after heating them in the oven.

Very tasty.

Sorry, no photos.

I gave the Russian Rocketman Sage its annual spring haircut yesterday, trimming it back to the ground.

It looks a bit like a disaster area in its ring of rocks this morning but it will grow back quickly, probably taller than ever.

SWMBO loaded the debris into the dumpster and did some other weeding in the driveway and that was the end of our exertion for the day.

We sat in the warm sunshine a bit and reminisced about days gone by when we could do a lot more.

So it goes.

THE GRIZZLED TRAVELER

For those of you who may have read my post about Webb Chiles, the 75 year old man on a solo circumnavigation of the globe, here, you'll be happy to know that he has arrived at St. Helena Island in the Atlantic Ocean, having sailed there from Durban, South Africa without stopping.

As has frequently been noted, St. Helena is one of the most remote places in the world, which may be why it was chosen as Napoleon's final place of exile.

But it's only a stopover for Chiles on his round the world tour.

After what I would think would be an appropriate rest there he will set sail for Saint Lucia, at the entrance to the Caribbean.

And I gather once there he will decide whether to sail north to Key West or through the Panama Canal and up to San Diego.

But I'll await his blog entry from St. Helena to know for sure.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

First of all allow me to thank all of you Gentle Readers who expressed good feelings for the return to good health of Muggles and for making allowances for her feistiness.

Hmmm.

I got four "all"s in that first sentence.

Maybe I need a thesaurus.

And thanks to Fast Eddie, who inquired after my health today because I was late with these Friday Funnies.

It's always good to have a hall monitor.

So, let's get to it.

First one's in honor of Muggles . . .

And before I forget, let me wish you all a happy new year.

Okay, okay, that was a joke.

Let's be careful out there this weekend, Gentle Readers, but also enjoy whatever you can find to put smiles on your faces.

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(uh-oh)

THE CATS WHO RULE US

Some of you Gentle Readers may recall my telling you about our little cat, Muggles, and her apparently final sickness awhile back.

If you need a memory jog you can find it here.

She was seeming to be on a glide path to the Great Beyond before she began once again to eat and drink tiny amounts.

Well.

Never let a cat fool you.

In the past couple of months she has been eating like a horse, drinking lots of water and putting on the weight she had lost.

Her cough has nearly disappeared and she seems back to her old self, most of the time.

Today her big bully brother Blackwell came up to cower her into leaving "her spot" on the bed and got a smack in the face for his trouble.

I didn't witness it but SWMBO said he backed off with a stunned look on his face.

(Actually, I don't know how a cat can have a stunned look on his face but I do not contest SWMBO's telling of the story.)

So anyway, here is Muggles today, up on the cat perch studying things outside the window.

She is still "junior sized" but she's always been that way.

And here (in Muggles' spot on the bed) is her big bully brother Blackwell.

Our cats.

We love 'em but the title of this post says it all.

MACARONS!

When we lived in Phoenix a few years ago I went one day to a place I had heard about called The French Grocery.

It was a provider of French foodstuffs, a bakery, a wine shop, a bar and a restaurant, all under one roof.

I went because I had heard they sold macarons.

***A slight interruption here to explain something to the culinarily-deprived citizens of the U.S.  These are macarons, pronounced mac-uh-rohns.  They are distinctly different from the American cookie known as macaroons, pronounced mac-uh-roons.  I only explain this because I have heard the French sandwich cookies mispronounced so often and because I am a self-righteous prig.***

So I bought a dozen assorted macarons and brought them home.

Judy loved them as did I.

But when she learned what I had paid for them she said "I can make those for a lot less money!"

And she did.

For those of you among my Gentle Readers who have never enjoyed a macaron I have only pity.

They are wonderful!

O.K. so maybe they aren't quite as "neat" as those from the French Grocery but as I heard a pastry chef say this week as he smoothed the edges of a frozen souffle "we pastry chefs are perfectionists, you know."

Actually I thought her second batch came pretty darned close to that "perfection".

And, what the hell, the taste was spot on.

Well, all of this came up because I was going through the many food pictures I have accumulated over the years of this blog . . . editing some, dumping others and ran across these pictures . . and memories.

Which brings me to another story.

In spite of my friend Baseball Steve, who called me this week to inquire if I was up to 300 pounds yet because he had been seeing pictures on my blog of all the wonderful food Judy makes for me, I don't eat massively anymore.

I was out this morning and got a teensy breakfast sandwich at a fast food place.

Then early this afternoon, I made a sandwich at home for my lunch.

And I was through.

I told Judy that I didn't really think I wanted any dinner and would take care of myself (So far that's only been a vodka-and-water or two.  Or more.)

She, on the other hand, has been dining on some fine microwave popcorn and sending fumes through the house.

But, pure as my intentions were, as I went through the photos in my Food file I began to develop a burgeoning appetite.

However, I am the soul of goodness.

Besides we don't have any macarons in the house.

I think I'll go see if Judy has any popcorn left over.