Sometimes the best supper is breakfast.
There can now be no doubt - Spring is here.
I know that first by observing the temperatures rise into the 80's here the past couple of days but second and more important by May 1st arriving.
That is traditionally a holiday to celebrate another Spring season.
When I was a kid, we used to exchange May Baskets, usually containing small hard candies.
I understand adults sometimes gave baskets filled with flowers.
Some Socialists and Communists chose the date as International Workers' Day and held parades.
Now, in my senescent years, I might prefer to mark the day the way our neighbors' cat Matty did on our couch yesterday.
If you thought *yesterday's* post was funny you probably also thought yesterday was Friday.
Ha!
Gotcha again!
Because, Gentle Readers and Humor Seekers, *today* is Friday.
I know this because the Comedy Cartel is calling to me, shrieking "let me out, let me out!"
And so I shall.
Now if you think this week's edition went to the dogs you might be right.
At any rate I hope you have a wonderful weekend, full of yucks, fine dining, some outside activities and don't forget to pet your puppy.
Oh and one other thing.
Always remember to keep laughing!
Here, kitty-kitty . . .
One of my longtime friends, identified on this blog only as Timmer, is a recently-retired vice-president of a television station in Denver.
But many, many, many years ago, he and I worked together in his first job out of college, at a different television station in Phoenix.
Timmer was a photographer then and I was a reporter, both for the news side of the station.
Before my time in Phoenix, I had worked for a radio station in Indianapolis and there met Tommy Terrific.
Tom had a long and successful career in radio and television in that city before retiring some years ago to a coastal village in California where he created his own blog, Light Breezes.
There is a story that Timmer and I went to Kansas City to a Democratic mini-convention when the late Arizona Congressman Mo Udall was running for President.
Tom reportedly came from Indianapolis to cover the same convention.
The stories that have emanated about these three youngish men wreaking havoc there have never been confirmed by anyone of respectable reputation.
But the reports were enough to prompt She Who Must Be Obeyed to dub the three innocents The Terrible Trio when she saw this photo, taken in front of the vaunted palm tree in our Phoenix backyard.
When I was out this afternoon running some errands (masked) I found myself behind a vehicle with this statement in it's rear window:
Unmasked
Unmuzzled
Unvaccinated
Unafraid
I was having one of my imaginary conversations in my head, thinking I'll pull up alongside them and tell them I have another couple of U words for their sign:
Uninformed
Un-American
But you know, I don't like confrontations and those kind of people are usually armed so I just shook my head and let it go.
While I was out, I also encountered several rain showers and one sort of a hailstorm so I scurried home rather quickly.
This evening, some great sky shots in my neighborhood.
Pink sky at night - - a (???????) delight!
I couldn't find a finish for that bit of doggerel.
I know "Red sky at night, a sailor's delight" but nothing about a pink sky.
Actually I'm not sure that tonight's sky is actually going to be pink.
But the mighty Google tells me that there's a full moon scheduled tonight and it's known as a Pink Moon, named after phlox, the pink flowers that bloom in the Spring.
Well, regardless, a glance at our sky a bit ago told me that we probably won't see it anyway.
As the header says, Begin.
Begin another year though it's becoming more and more difficult.
But yesterday was a pretty good day.
We made only our second trip to a restaurant in over a year, this time to the Red Lobster for, of course, a lobster gorging.
Well, that's what I did, on the orders of my wife and, you know, I don't call her She Who Must Be Obeyed for nothing.
She, on the other hand, had Coconut Shrimp, an old favorite of hers there, and it was such an ample serving that she brought half of it home for dining today.
Along with two take-out bowls of Lobster Bisque.
I think after today we will have had our seafood fix for awhile.
Of course, there's always . . .
TGIF!
Thank God It's Franklin!
Oh, you don't get it?
See, while I'm known on here as Catalyst or Bruce or HWMOH (He Who Must Obey Her) . . my real first name is Franklin.
Not named after Benjamin or Delano Roosevelt but after my dad.
Who knows where he got his first name from?
But you didn't come here to read my family history, did you?
You came for these!
My generation hasn't done a very good job.
Let's hope the young and the future generations do better with this poor old battered Earth.
When the urge hits to try a new recipe in the Taylor Family Kitchens I often wonder what prompted that urge.
Such was the situation yesterday when I decided to conquer the Swedish Almond Cake.
Loaded with sugar, as it is, one might have attributed it to yesterday's date and what that might have stirred up in the cerebrum.
But it's been roughly two decades since I last indulged in what Baseball Steve referred to as The Devil's Lettuce in a text yesterday evening.
So going another way it could be my 75 percent Scandinavian ancestry that pushed the recipe forth.
But that ancestry is Norwegian and this is, reputedly, a Swedish recipe.
Never mind that it came from Dorie Greenspan, not exactly a Swedish name.
So let's chalk it up to just plain whimsy and have at it.
It turned out pretty darned good, by the way, and according to the praise from SWMBO.
Take a look.
We're at around 5,000 feet and Dorie probably wrote her recipe and baked her cake at around sea level.
I keep being reminded that some things behave differently in the oven at higher elevations and this one did bake slower than the recipe stated.
Nevertheless, it's nearly half gone now and probably will be finished off by tomorrow.
Hint: it's extra good with a slosh of whipped topping or probably some vanilla ice cream would add to the flavor bump too.
And for you people who always ask me for the recipe, just Google Swedish Almond Cake.
Enjoy!
Once the seasons begin to change, so does the produce.
And now it's asparagus season.
Now you may not love asparagus.
But you might not love baseball either.
In both cases you'd be wrong.
I'd forgive you but you'd still be wrong.
Win or lose, baseball is still a great game.
And with asparagus, you can't lose.
Only win.
So here is what I made today.
An asparagus, goat cheese, chive tart.
It's a slight adaption of a recipe by My Favorite Redhead, Melissa Clark, in the New York Times.
Her recipe is for an Asparagus, Goat Cheese and Tarragon tart.
But I didn't have any tarragon so I substituted chives from our back patio herb garden.
And I didn't have the called for crème fraiche so I substituted sour cream.
Both allowed for.
All I can say is that it was delicious.
The highest compliment came from my Number One in-house Chef, She Who Must Be Obeyed.
She said, "We will have this again!"
The other day there were some strange clouds in the sky.
SWMBO said they used to be called "mare's tails" when she was a girl.
I'm wondering if they were an omen . . .