P.C.

 My Scot-loving pal, Tommy Terrific, sent this video over from sunny California today and I found it good enough to share.

With apologies to my favorite Scottish pals, "gz and the Pirate."

SQUASHED

 We had a ferocious thunderstorm hit us for a half hour or more the other day.

It just poured.

Reminded me of movies I've seen of rain like that in the jungles.

The squash and gourd vines took a beating and a day or so later Judy went out to check on them.

In so doing, she plucked a couple of squash.

You can see the plant leaves that did not survived the abuse they took.

And the squash were quite small though usable in the kitchen she said.

She sliced them up and sauteed them with some onions and mini-peppers.

They were pretty bland.

But today there's a recipe in my cooking companion, the New York Times, for zucchini.

(Actually there are a plethora of recipes for zucchini, that most plethorous of plants.)

(I don't know if "plethorous" is actually a word but I think if you've ever grown zucchini you get the picture.)

But getting back to the recipe, it calls for sauteeing planks of the zukes, then a quick bath in some brown butter, garlic and rosemary, before serving them with red pepper flakes, coarse sea salt and a spritz of lemon.

Since our summer squash is a relative of zucchini, both the Master Chef and I think that ought to give them some mouth appeal.

I'll let you know.

(p.s. Apparently plethorous was not a real word. 

Until now.

The Great Google found another word for what I meant: plethoric.

Use whichever one you prefer.)

A BAKING TIP

 Picking up from my success with a Cherry Clafoutis recently, I decided to make one with a partial package of blueberries that had been taking up space in the freezer for ages.

By the way, I've gone to the 9 inch square baking dish rather than the glass pie plate because it's deeper and makes the trip from the counter to the oven less hazardous.

But here's the background of today's tip.

I put the bag of blueberries out on some paper towels on the counter to thaw.

And then when I was assembling, I just picked up the bag and poured the contents into the dish.

I hadn't counted on the berries putting out that much liquid and the result was blueberry soup.

But never say mind.

I finished the pudding base with the other ingredients and poured it in on top of the blue morass and sent it into the oven.

Baking for the normally alotted time (45 minutes) seemed to have done the job; a knife inserted into the center came out dry and mostly clear of any crumbs.

But when I sliced a piece from the cooled product it seemed a bit moister than usual for this pastry.

My Chief Taster and Kitchen Expert said it tasted wonderful but she opined that it would have been better to have drained the berries and left the juice out.

So there's your tip for the day - dry those blueberries.

Better yet, use a firmer fruit and save the blueberries for a different recipe.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 It's Full Moon Friday!

Also the final time my friend Phil can celebrate his birthday by saying "I'm seventy- - - -."

How quickly the years have passed.

So for Phil and all other Senior Citizens, here's a diet regimen to help you live on into your "Golden Years".

And those are the jokes, folks.

Now whether it's your birthday or not, endeavor to have an exciting and excellent weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

ThrowBack Thursday

 Your scribe, some time in the 1940's.

Gadfrey! 

That necktie! 

That collar! 

That smirk!

Then . . . 70 or so years later.

Thank gawd!

The necktie is gone.

The collar is gone.

But, peeking through the beard, the smirk lives on.

Remember the Old Catalyst's admonition: Keep Laughing!

HARVEST

 The plants seem to be enjoying our cooler and wetter weather of late.

The gourd vines are beginning to climb their stakes and heading for the arbor supports.

They're being guided by some string help from the Master Gardener.

(Hint: that's not me.)

Meanwhile, snuggled in with the gourds are some Summer Squash plants which suddenly have produced some beginners.

They're just babies yet but they're growing down there.

Meanwhile, across the yard at the tomato barrel, there's one peeking out that is just about ripe enough to be picked.

He'll probably leave the vine today and join a handful of others on the kitchen counter.

Ah summer produce, fresh from the garden.

Ain't it lovely?

A TALE

 Once upon a time there was a curious black cat.

He used to show up on our back wall from time to time.

While curious, he was also cautious.

"Let's see, I wonder if this is a safe place for me to take a little rest."

"It seems to me like I can smell a trace of other cats here before me.

It might not be prudent. I am not in the mood for a cat fight."

But comfort won out over caution and he stretched out for a bit.

But as he rose up after his period of relaxation, he spotted me, spotting him.

"Okay, human, are you going to chase me out of your yard? But he's inside, behind that window, I don't think he's much of a threat."

"I'll just use this old blue cat as a stepping stone to cross over and see if there's anything to eat outside their back door."

But the tale took a sudden turn when he got to just a few feet from the glass slider door and I loomed up on the other side of it.

I carefully slid the door open and called to him but he was already back across the yard and up on the wall.

When I inched outside intending to sit down in my chair and see if he'd come over to me, he took off the other way.

At the far end of the wall, he stopped and turned to look back to make sure I wasn't coming after him.

All right, black cat, I'll see you later.

"Not if I see you first, human."