Sitting at the kitchen island, updating my LinkedIn profile, watching EPL ⚽️, waiting for the county recycling center to open so I can drop a truckload of junk. Beautiful Sunday in North Carolina helping me balance these feelings of depression and desperation.
Oliver has us watching the new Dynamite K-pop video on Fortnite. Bouncy music goes well with the good Cruzan rum I poured myself. Friday night fun.
Fall flower.
Wednesday, September 16, 2020 →
Satisfaction is sitting on the deck after a good run, drinking cold well water, looking over the flowering ginger - peach and white - that did so well this summer.
Last week, after an oil change and a haul of gravel, the Ford Ranger sputtered and wouldn’t move. Finally called AAA yesterday. Tow guy looked under hood and noticed intake valve missing cap. “I’ll go to parts store.” This morning I found piece in the driveway. No sputtering now.
I was looking for another mango beer and saw this local brew made with guanabana (we called it soursop in Vanuatu). I was expecting the strong taste of watermelon jolly rancher—how I describe the taste of soursop—but in this white ale it was very subtle.
Wednesday, September 9, 2020 →
Wearing cowboy boots and blue fedora. Listening to latest album from The Killers. Wishing my father a happy birthday. Drinking a flat white. Wondering which way is up. One of those days.
Cherry pie
Hedychium coronarium
We are at the first outdoor movie night in the Shine On Black Stories series at Chapel Hill’s Lumina Theater. UNC Law Professor Ted Shaw is giving an introduction to the film, Harriet (which I haven’t seen yet). “Our nation’s past is complex…our nation’s present is complex.”
I’ve been using M.B since the beginning, but I’m still perplexed when I see one of my posts with a microcast in the timeline. I see the title and a link to the post, and in the latest a tiny thumbnail of the image I added, but not any of the words from the body of the post.
The Coconut Wireless: Two turtles
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
For many years, I thought of my blog (archived at mistersugar.com; I blog now at zuiker.com) as the “coconut wireless” in deference to my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the South Pacific, where news traveled around Paama Island as people walked from village to village. Now that I have the means to post audio observations, I’ve decided to recycle the name for my microcasts. So, here’s the first, a short observation on how the world outside is helping to keep me sane as I spend so much time in the house at my desk.
The hot sauce, finished. Tastes sweet on the tip of the tongue and then a burst of heat at the back. Eager to share it with my brother-in-law, a hot sauce fan, next weekend.
Making the hot sauce outside on the gas grill. Have discovered it’s best not to do this in the kitchen, fills the house with fumes.
Oliver and I went for a drive in the pickup to the county recycling center to drop off garbage and boxes, then paid $12.50 for a load of mulch, which Erin spread on the flower beds. Now the puppy is happily rolling in the remaining pile.
Two weeks ago, I bought habanero chiles at the Carrboro Farmers Market. Last week I bought habanada, a no-heat version. Today I finally got around to preparing hot sauce, adding the chiles from the garden. When I bit into a habanada, I realized immediately I’d guessed wrong.
Out walking the land with the puppy, came across this turtle.
The young great horned owl stopped its squawking out in the woods last week, but just now it silently glided to a tree branch high above me as I watered the fig tree in the backyard.
Have had little alcohol last two months, but today just felt right to make a rye cocktail with the last of the sour cherry shrub and a sprig of mint from the garden. Dinner started with slices of tomato and shredded basil (garden bounty, too), feta, and balsamic vinegar.
I was outside with puppy and chickens. Come inside to reports that house had just shaken. I missed an earthquake. Just like I missed a temblor years back when I was in Duke Hospital elevator.