…as was evident, from what I had been observing, here there and everywhere… the lingering effects finally seem to be on the wane now, so business as usual? 
Making 15 bean and ham soup and split pea and ham soup in two huge pots. 12 quarts of the bean and 8 quarts of split pea. I bought a 15 lb ham and took it over to my father in laws for dinner. Left him with some for scrambled eggs, some sandwiches and he froze a couple meals for later use. The rest we brought home.
This morning around 7:00 I trimmed down the ham and put the bones in a big pot to let simmer with some spices to make a nice broth. Last night I started soaking two bags of beans. And around 4:00 this afternoon I started chopping carrots, celery, potatoes and onions. Split the stock into the two pots and added the veggies and beans to one pot, and the veggies and peas to the other pot and got them simmering. I just cubed up a good portion of the left over ham and added it to the two pots added some more spice and left them on the heat. They’ll need to simmer for another two hours or so before I can cool them down and dish it into quart jars for freezing. I love soup in the winter and winter is coming. This time of the year if I run out of steam I can set the pots out on the deck as the night time temps are around 40 degrees F. and it keeps them refrigerator cool until morning when I can finish up the process. We share a few jars with the wife’s dad and a couple more with an elderly neighbor, and we end up with about 6 quarts of the bean and 6 of the split pea. Our neighbor likes the bean but not the split pea.
We have a big old chest freezer in the basement and it’s always stocked with veggies from our garden meat from the butcher and soups we make along the way. The freezer is on a power back up as it’s always stocked with about 3-4 months of food. If there were ever a need we be all set.
Come Halloween I’ll be making an old family favorite that has been a tradition since I was a kid. Beef knuckle bone soup in the 12 quart pot. Mom use to have it hot on the stove so when we got home from trick or treat, there was a hot meal waiting before we went out for a second round. Those were the days. Soup is such a good meal when the snow starts to fly and the nights get down near zero. I can stop at the bakery on the way home from work and get a nice loaf of bread and get dinner on in a jiffy.
I’ll have a bowl of that, if you don’t mind.
Well come on over, would you like a nice chunk of warm bread with that? I’ll go open a nice bottle of wine too.
So I’m here eating at a kind of outdoor patio bar/restaurant, right. At the table to my left four college chicks are drinking beers and cavorting. One of em yells across the table at me; ‘hey, can we ride your crotch rocket?’ (bikes parked behind me).
Now I was not at all prepared for this… and I said the unthinkable; ‘dont you want to ride my motorcycle first?’
Now they knew they shoulda seen that coming. They practically handed it to me. Fortunately they were good spirited, laughed heartily, and everything worked out fine.
LSU hasn’t beaten Alabama since before I made this thread. Right now Alabama is ranked #1 and LSU #2. Could be a good one this year. I’ve got tickets to the homecoming game in Tuscaloosa and to the Iron Bowl in Auburn this year. Good stuff.
lost my first informal race today on the sv1000s. the dude was on a big ass ninja, at least 900 ccs, and in mint condition. plus he was all accessorized out; riding gear that matched the bike, so you know he was very experienced and probably poppin fookin wheelies and shit on a dirt bike when he was a kid.
so we ended up beside each other at a red light. our eyes meet. a nod. a rev. it’s gotta happen now, and there was no backing out. i began to tremble. my life passed before my eyes. that time i found the lizard while on a boy scouts camping trip. our ride up the cable cars on the swiss alps. when grandma taught me how to rake the thatch from the grass. the time my father told me: 'son, there’s three kinds of people. people who make things happen, people who watch what happens, and people who wonder what happened.
first thing i’m thinking is ‘i’m gonna gun this fucker and its gonna jump right out from under me’, so i’m a little nervous, right. light turns green and he’s gone. and me? sure enough, i’m not aggressive enough and my launch was all wrong. when racing bikes, the lauch is everything. if you fuck that up, you cut your chances of victory in half. anyway when i hit second i twisted that fucker to twelve thousand rpms and started gaining… but by that time we were both way above the speed limit and had to back off. so in the 0-60 he smoked me… but that’s not to say i wouldn’t have caught up with him at a buck twenty. do i think i woulda? no, i don’t think so. but i don’t know.
now if i was on the tiger (my cbr600rr), and got my launch right, the 0-60 woulda been mine. 2.9 seconds, kids. 60 miles an hour in first gear. two blinks of an eye.
no seriously, i dunno. that ninja was the stuff.
Watching NFL… Houston Texans v Jacksonville Jaguars at Wembley Stadium… this version is just as watchable and entertaining as Rugby League is to Rugby Union, i.e. much better for primetime TV.
…watching the NFL show… it’s funny, and entertaining, and everything that a sports show should be.
The ex-player commentators are now living in the UK, and loving it here, and have bestowed us with a very understandable and watchable version of the game.
Sports evolve… like everything else.
Weaning myself off of all non-paleo consumables was not as difficult or traumatic as I thought it would be, so making the direct jump from some to none, was all that was necessary to make the transition… I should have known this was the only option, being an all-or-nothing type. My stomach is already thanking me for it, and is looking forward to a dinner of mixed-grill n frites-plantain, tomorrow.
Getting caught up on ILP. 
Watching, on BBC Four:
Now: The Worlds Most Beautiful Eggs: The genius of Carl Faberge-Stephen Smith explores the extraordinary life and work of virtuoso jeweller Carl Faberge.
Next: The Art of Japanese Life-James Fox looks at the clean minimalism of the Japanese home, which has been exported around the world, from modernist architecture to lifestyle stores like Muji.
Next: Vienna: Empire, Dynasty and Dream-while the Habsburgs headed for extinction, Vienna v
Blossomed, as the theories of Freud and the sensuality of the secession artists like Klimt and Schiele ushered in the modern age.
I’ve seen the first two series before, but not the third… on Vienna.
Watching QI… all the other programmes seem dull in comparison.
Watching the showjumping, during dinner… the hi-lights from the Grand Prix, Spain.
I’ll take “Things that did not happen” for 200.
An interview in Freuds old house
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORTM63ds2og[/youtube]
And a typical Viennese day at university;
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4TvDkUCmAU[/youtube]
Just finished watching The Heist, and now watching The Name Of The Rose last episode (missed the previous 7) after coming back from our local GE celebratory-drinks, where the discourse was much and varied… fuelled by the prior talk from Historian David Starkey, on all things Europe… and hours and much drinks later, we all went merrily on our way home.
A good question… ideas without being based on/from citation?
What about thoughts borne from anxiety… no citation necessary there, to initiate the thoughts that arise in the mind, from it… so an inner monologue, with no guidance from the external, but of which we daren’t share.
Are new ideas borne from anxiety/the irrational, that we try to make sense of, to appease the mind and make it still…? Now you know what caused me to awake at 6am this morning. 
How very… abstract/very Le Salon… breaking through self-consciousness… to achieve…? One thing it does achieve, is that one becomes unaware/blinkered of the other’s gaze upon us… very useful at a packed discussion, when all eyes fall on you whilst listening to your input on the topic at hand. Good for the Performing Arts too, I guess… at least it’s a better option than the pretend-to-be-a-tree-blowing-in-the-wind version of yesteryear.