While blog browsing today, I came upon a recipe for hot pepper oils for home growers written by John Laumer of Philadelphia for Treehugger.com a site for organicophiles. Being the capiscumophile I am I found the blog by blogsearching "hot peppers". Why am I blogging about it??? Because homemade hot pepper oils are dangerously friendly to the clostridium botunlinum bacteria; better known to the rest of us as botulism.
Botulism is a disease caused by the flourishing of the clostridium botulinum bacteria. There are numerous outbreaks of foodborne botulism occuring almost every year and more often than not, they are caused by eating contaminated home-canned foods. An average of 110 cases are reported every year.
Symptoms of botulism include double vision, blurred vision, drooping eyelids, slurred speech, difficulty swallowing, dry mouth, and muscle weakness. Untreated, these early symptoms can progress to paralysis, which ultimately is why you want to be very careful not to get botulism to begin with. Paralysis, when it gets into your lungs is a one way ticket to death. If you know what I mean.
Botulism symptoms, according to the CDC, occur between 18 and 36 hours of eating contaminated foodstuffs. BUT, they warn that they can occur as early as 6 hours after eating something tainted or as late as 10 days later.
Botulism treatment requires injection of an antitoxin and although the antitoxin can slow the effects of the botulism, reversing it fully can take up to several weeks. The good news is that whereas botulism induced paralysis can be fatal, over the last 50 years, deaths from it have been reduced from 50% to less than 8%. Oh, the miracles of modern medicine. Cases of severe botulism can put you on a breathing machine for as long as it takes for the antitoxin to allow your system to return to normal. That can take several months. Someone who survives botulism poisoning can have fatigue and shortness of breath for years and require long-term therapy in order to completely recover.
In other words, botulism is a bad thing.
The good news is that botulism is easily prevented.
More often than not, when one is talking about home-canning procedures, one needs worry about botulism for low-acid content foods. I, being a hot pepper afficianado need not worry about such things, I'm not about to home-can anything low-acid. Indeed, if I'm to home-can anything it will be hot peppers. Well, now technically, in my case, I suppose "home-canning" is actually "professional processing", but, well, you get the idea. At any rate, although our "professional processing" is just that, my company uses "home-canning" methods, only on a more commercial scale.
Peppermaster hot sauces, to-date, doesn't have any peppers packed in oil, yet. And, truth be told, the reason we don't is primarily because of botulism.
Strict hygienic procedures are required to avoid contamination of foods and even so, once processed, oils infused with garlic, herbs or hot peppers should be refrigerated. Fortunately, botulism is destroyed by high temperatures, so, persons who eat such foods should consider boiling the food for 10 minutes before eating it to ensure safety. As reticent as I am to get involved in hot peppered oils, the Peppermaster assures me that when we do so, this won't be a concern of ours.
My fear, if you will, is that our customers will take our lovely peppered oils and then have to boil them for ten minutes in order to be sure that they won't get botulism. And of course, after reading the CDC website, one might come to this conclusion.
After much research, I've come to the conclusion that in order to properly put peppers into oil, one must be very concerned about moisture levels. Avoiding at all costs, following the FDA's recommendation that one add microbial inhibitors or acidifying agents. We will NOT be using citric acid; or microbial chemical anythings.
If you are going to home-can your peppers and pack them in oil, do yourself a favour and add citric acid. Then, when you boil the product, do so for no less than 10 minutes and add five minutes for every 5000 feet of elevation you live above sea level.
If you want to be really safe, simply blanch your peppers, cover them with water and then boil the jar for 15 minutes. Then, you can safely add the oil right before cooking... Bye bye botulism risk.
Me out.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Ve Duss Done Reach...
"Ve duss done reach" is how one might say "We're home" in the Bahamas.
Finding goat peppers on New Providence Island, last year, was an exercise in futility. We kept being told that we could find them easily at the vegetable exchange but for some reason, the government officials who run the exchange simply didn't have the goat peppers or didn't want us to have them.
This years trip, came out with slightly better results. You'll be pleased to know that although we didn't manage to come home with any goat peppers in our pockets, we did manage to find two steady suppliers. One is growing some pretty amazing things in the very rocky ground of the island will be shipping peppers to us this spring. The other, on our enticement is planting knowing he now has a sure market for his produce. We can thank our Hurricane Mash purchasers for this project.
What was most fascinatingly interesting to me is how they farm in the islands. They call it "pothole farming" and until you see it, you've never see anything like it. It's a wonder they can grow anything at all. And you should have seen the incredible fruit and vegetables growing out of these potholes. You simply can't imagine what kind of quality they are managing to get out of these literal holes in the ground. And because the ground is essentially a coral bed, pothole farming is the preferred method of farming in a lot of islands in the Caribbean. Truth be told, when you see what Caribbeans have to work with for soil, then farming any other way seems ludicrous.
This is Caribbean-style Pothole Farming:
Not to be confused with Prairie Pothole Farming:
Where I come from, one first clears the land, removing all rocks, tree stumps, and anything else that might break the tines on a roto-tiller. Then, they till the soil, preparing a bed of soft moist earth to plant in. In the Bahamas, short of building a raised bed of earth, which is very expensive and time consuming, one simply plants in the pockets of soil that are found in the porous coral bed of the islands. In other words, in the potholes. It's a pretty darned cool way to grow things.
And we now have two farmers pothole farming peppers and native Bahamian limes just for us.
We arrived in the Bahamas to beautiful weather. Our flight to the out-islands was uneventful.
Our cottage turned out to be a delightful shade of coral pink.
and the beach was delightfully, 200 yards from the back door, as promised.
It took two weeks before we found any goat peppers at all, but then it was as if the heavens themselves had opened up and dropped manna onto our doorstep, because from that point forward, there were peppers everywhere! Bird peppers, finger peppers, and yes, even goat peppers.
We had the opportunity to meet several Bahamian hot sauce makers. None of whom are interested in exporting, unfortunately for North American chiliheads.
But to make it up to everyone we've made arrangements to share our island. If you find yourself with time to visit the out-islands of the Bahamas and would like a quiet little cottage a stone's throw from the sea, I can get you set up.
Me out.
T
Finding goat peppers on New Providence Island, last year, was an exercise in futility. We kept being told that we could find them easily at the vegetable exchange but for some reason, the government officials who run the exchange simply didn't have the goat peppers or didn't want us to have them.
This years trip, came out with slightly better results. You'll be pleased to know that although we didn't manage to come home with any goat peppers in our pockets, we did manage to find two steady suppliers. One is growing some pretty amazing things in the very rocky ground of the island will be shipping peppers to us this spring. The other, on our enticement is planting knowing he now has a sure market for his produce. We can thank our Hurricane Mash purchasers for this project.
What was most fascinatingly interesting to me is how they farm in the islands. They call it "pothole farming" and until you see it, you've never see anything like it. It's a wonder they can grow anything at all. And you should have seen the incredible fruit and vegetables growing out of these potholes. You simply can't imagine what kind of quality they are managing to get out of these literal holes in the ground. And because the ground is essentially a coral bed, pothole farming is the preferred method of farming in a lot of islands in the Caribbean. Truth be told, when you see what Caribbeans have to work with for soil, then farming any other way seems ludicrous.
This is Caribbean-style Pothole Farming:
Not to be confused with Prairie Pothole Farming:
Where I come from, one first clears the land, removing all rocks, tree stumps, and anything else that might break the tines on a roto-tiller. Then, they till the soil, preparing a bed of soft moist earth to plant in. In the Bahamas, short of building a raised bed of earth, which is very expensive and time consuming, one simply plants in the pockets of soil that are found in the porous coral bed of the islands. In other words, in the potholes. It's a pretty darned cool way to grow things.
And we now have two farmers pothole farming peppers and native Bahamian limes just for us.
We arrived in the Bahamas to beautiful weather. Our flight to the out-islands was uneventful.
Our cottage turned out to be a delightful shade of coral pink.
and the beach was delightfully, 200 yards from the back door, as promised.
It took two weeks before we found any goat peppers at all, but then it was as if the heavens themselves had opened up and dropped manna onto our doorstep, because from that point forward, there were peppers everywhere! Bird peppers, finger peppers, and yes, even goat peppers.
We had the opportunity to meet several Bahamian hot sauce makers. None of whom are interested in exporting, unfortunately for North American chiliheads.
But to make it up to everyone we've made arrangements to share our island. If you find yourself with time to visit the out-islands of the Bahamas and would like a quiet little cottage a stone's throw from the sea, I can get you set up.
Me out.
T
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Quebec teen dies after apparently taking ecstasy
I went to a funeral reception yesterday. Rather I avoided going to a funeral I couldn't bring myself to go in and instead went shopping for an hour with my husband.
The newspapers had this to say:
RIGAUD, Que. -- A 13-year-old girl who went into a coma after apparently experimenting with the drug ecstasy has died, Quebec provincial police said Tuesday.
The girl, who had been on life support since the incident late last week, died Monday, said police spokesman Marc Butz. Butz would not comment on reports a 16-year-old boy has been arrested and charged with drug trafficking.
Butz said a judge had imposed a publication ban on information about the case.
Provincial police say the 13-year-old teen from Rigaud, west of Montreal, and a 14-year-old friend were at a sleepover when they went to the home of an older acquaintance to allegedly obtain the drug.
After they returned to the 14-year-old's home, the youngest teen began to feel ill and had trouble breathing.
An ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital, where her condition deteriorated.
Family and friends said their final goodbyes in the filled-to-capacity St. James Church in Hudson.
I can barely think about it without getting all teary-eyed and choked up.
You see, this girl was my daughter's best friend from the first day of grade three through New Years' Eve in Grade five. Both girls are now in Grade 8. But my daughter has been homeschooled since last January. Given this combination of experience, I can't say that I knew the girl when she died. What I can say is that I liked her. She was a self-composed, intelligent girl, sure of herself, with an intense, sarcastic sense of humour. Well beyond her years, much like my daughter, and like my daughter, an alpha-female.
I had a fleeting friendship with the girl's mother, but that went away when the girls' friendship broke up. So although I knew the girl who died, I didn't know her at all anymore. Still, her passing breaks my heart.
The girl's mother is very, very angry. And what mother wouldn't be. She's very angry with the girl her daughter was with when she took the drugs. For the mother, the surviving girl is entirely at fault. I can't blame her for feeling that way. Who else can she blame. Certainly not her daughter. Certainly not the Mother of the surviving girl. Certainly not herself.
I hugged her at the reception and I started to say to her that I knew how she felt, but I couldn't possibly -- I still have my baby. But she stopped me and knowing the story of my first husband, she made it clear that although the circumstances are different, she knows I know how she feels.
She seemed so empty... Distant... Lost. Did I look like that when my first husband died?
The only other thing left to be said, is about the girl. She wanted to be an architect.
Me out.
The newspapers had this to say:
RIGAUD, Que. -- A 13-year-old girl who went into a coma after apparently experimenting with the drug ecstasy has died, Quebec provincial police said Tuesday.
The girl, who had been on life support since the incident late last week, died Monday, said police spokesman Marc Butz. Butz would not comment on reports a 16-year-old boy has been arrested and charged with drug trafficking.
Butz said a judge had imposed a publication ban on information about the case.
Provincial police say the 13-year-old teen from Rigaud, west of Montreal, and a 14-year-old friend were at a sleepover when they went to the home of an older acquaintance to allegedly obtain the drug.
After they returned to the 14-year-old's home, the youngest teen began to feel ill and had trouble breathing.
An ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital, where her condition deteriorated.
Family and friends said their final goodbyes in the filled-to-capacity St. James Church in Hudson.
I can barely think about it without getting all teary-eyed and choked up.
You see, this girl was my daughter's best friend from the first day of grade three through New Years' Eve in Grade five. Both girls are now in Grade 8. But my daughter has been homeschooled since last January. Given this combination of experience, I can't say that I knew the girl when she died. What I can say is that I liked her. She was a self-composed, intelligent girl, sure of herself, with an intense, sarcastic sense of humour. Well beyond her years, much like my daughter, and like my daughter, an alpha-female.
I had a fleeting friendship with the girl's mother, but that went away when the girls' friendship broke up. So although I knew the girl who died, I didn't know her at all anymore. Still, her passing breaks my heart.
The girl's mother is very, very angry. And what mother wouldn't be. She's very angry with the girl her daughter was with when she took the drugs. For the mother, the surviving girl is entirely at fault. I can't blame her for feeling that way. Who else can she blame. Certainly not her daughter. Certainly not the Mother of the surviving girl. Certainly not herself.
I hugged her at the reception and I started to say to her that I knew how she felt, but I couldn't possibly -- I still have my baby. But she stopped me and knowing the story of my first husband, she made it clear that although the circumstances are different, she knows I know how she feels.
She seemed so empty... Distant... Lost. Did I look like that when my first husband died?
The only other thing left to be said, is about the girl. She wanted to be an architect.
Me out.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Wait a minute... That's not a doggie in the window, that's a doggie on the computer screen!!
And where better than a computer screen to find the best canine blogger in North America??
Bark N Blog is a blog about natural pet care and it's written by Shadrach, a Neo Mastiff who does all the blogging. Yeah, ok, if you don't buy that, then you should know that for Kim Bloomer and Jeannie Thomason, who as a team own the blog, Shadrach's blog can help you learn all about caring for your pet, naturally.
Their motto: "The great aim of education is not knowledge, but action" - author: Herbert Spencer
Every Wednesday at 2:30 PM EST as these ladies record at Holistic Pet Audio You can download the show or listen to it online every Tuesday at 10 AM EST at Animal Talk Naturally.
Animal Talk Naturally is streamed on BX Radio Network and on All Pets Radio.
Tomorrow's show includes a Q&A with holistic vet, Dr. Stephen Blake. I've been told by Kim Bloomer that he is funny and kind.
Here's the skinny on the show.
Animal Talk Naturally will have Stephen Blake, DVM as the special guest this week. On Wednesday February 8th at 2:30pm EST. You can be a part of the live audience and participation.
Stephen Blake, DVM aka The Pet Whisperer will be talking about natural care for pets. Some of the topics to be covered are raw diets, genetics and health, vaccinations, the use of essential oils, colostrum and gemmology. Ask the Doctor questions and participate in the interactive show.
You can find the show at Holistic Pet Audio.
To enter the online recording room:
1)Download the plugin to your desktop,
2) Double click on the icon you saved to your desktop
The install wizard will install it
3) Go back to Holistic Pet Audio, and log in!
Kim tells me that space is VERY limited - they only have room for 17 people, so be on time and download the plugin ahead of time.
If you'd rather simply listen to the airwaves, the show is streamed on BX Radio Network and on All Pets Radio
Kim Bloomer is a Natural Pet Care Educator and a friend of mine. Her company, Aspenbloom Pet Care is all about seeing your pets good health bloom!
Check it out. The dog is pretty danged interesting.
Me out.
Bark N Blog is a blog about natural pet care and it's written by Shadrach, a Neo Mastiff who does all the blogging. Yeah, ok, if you don't buy that, then you should know that for Kim Bloomer and Jeannie Thomason, who as a team own the blog, Shadrach's blog can help you learn all about caring for your pet, naturally.
Their motto: "The great aim of education is not knowledge, but action" - author: Herbert Spencer
Every Wednesday at 2:30 PM EST as these ladies record at Holistic Pet Audio You can download the show or listen to it online every Tuesday at 10 AM EST at Animal Talk Naturally.
Animal Talk Naturally is streamed on BX Radio Network and on All Pets Radio.
Tomorrow's show includes a Q&A with holistic vet, Dr. Stephen Blake. I've been told by Kim Bloomer that he is funny and kind.
Here's the skinny on the show.
Animal Talk Naturally will have Stephen Blake, DVM as the special guest this week. On Wednesday February 8th at 2:30pm EST. You can be a part of the live audience and participation.
Stephen Blake, DVM aka The Pet Whisperer will be talking about natural care for pets. Some of the topics to be covered are raw diets, genetics and health, vaccinations, the use of essential oils, colostrum and gemmology. Ask the Doctor questions and participate in the interactive show.
You can find the show at Holistic Pet Audio.
To enter the online recording room:
1)Download the plugin to your desktop,
2) Double click on the icon you saved to your desktop
The install wizard will install it
3) Go back to Holistic Pet Audio, and log in!
Kim tells me that space is VERY limited - they only have room for 17 people, so be on time and download the plugin ahead of time.
If you'd rather simply listen to the airwaves, the show is streamed on BX Radio Network and on All Pets Radio
Kim Bloomer is a Natural Pet Care Educator and a friend of mine. Her company, Aspenbloom Pet Care is all about seeing your pets good health bloom!
Check it out. The dog is pretty danged interesting.
Me out.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Blogging isn't anywhere near as easy as I thought it would be...
It's been a while since this little journey started and whereas I'm really proud of what I've managed to publish, I realize that I haven't posted anywhere near what I thought I might or even what I hoped I would. I realize that I've got two major posts in draft one about the mysterious Naga Jolokia and another which, although complete has not hit the airwaves. This, since October.
Can you tell I've been busy??
I've spent the last two months purveying peppers all over North America. I've put samples of extremely hot hot sauces onto the tongues of several thousand North Americans and more than just a few other international travellers.
France is going to love Peppermaster!
I've made a lot of friends and probably a couple of enemies. And you know what... I really like being a sadist. It's fun.
We're stepping onto a plane tomorrow night to begin what will be an 18 hour voyage to South Palmetto Point, Bahamas, West Indies. You can find it on GoogleEarth. I'll have to get back to you on the coordinates.
Our little voyage has several goals. The most important of which, has to do with eating a lot of Bahamian Goatpeppers. Those nasty little capiscum chinsenses that just happen to be the best little peppers in the world... The environmental stressing, we think, gives it the ability to score as one of the hottest peppers in the world, right up there with the Red Savina and chocolate habaneros: which suffice it to say are all as habaneros, essentially different breeds of the same pepper.
Our next goal is to hand over some money to a pepper farmer to pay for seeds. The result of selling lots of jars of Hurricane Mash.
Our third goal is to scout out some territory, a little pied-a-terre, where I can build my little dream cottage. Ok, ok, it will be a dream shack, but who needs a cottage when you're 200 yards from the high tide line and in the direct path of no less than 3 Cat 5 hurricanes every decade?
Our final goal and well, my own personal goal, is to simply dig my toes in hot pink sand and spend some time swimming in an aquamarine paradisical coral jungle. Ya know, like Nemo in the Disney movie... That coral jungle.
I promise not to think of you while I'm sucking back the Barbancour and cokes on the beach, so long as you promise not to harbour ill will towards me while I'm gone. See you on the shorter side of winter.
Me out.
Can you tell I've been busy??
I've spent the last two months purveying peppers all over North America. I've put samples of extremely hot hot sauces onto the tongues of several thousand North Americans and more than just a few other international travellers.
France is going to love Peppermaster!
I've made a lot of friends and probably a couple of enemies. And you know what... I really like being a sadist. It's fun.
We're stepping onto a plane tomorrow night to begin what will be an 18 hour voyage to South Palmetto Point, Bahamas, West Indies. You can find it on GoogleEarth. I'll have to get back to you on the coordinates.
Our little voyage has several goals. The most important of which, has to do with eating a lot of Bahamian Goatpeppers. Those nasty little capiscum chinsenses that just happen to be the best little peppers in the world... The environmental stressing, we think, gives it the ability to score as one of the hottest peppers in the world, right up there with the Red Savina and chocolate habaneros: which suffice it to say are all as habaneros, essentially different breeds of the same pepper.
Our next goal is to hand over some money to a pepper farmer to pay for seeds. The result of selling lots of jars of Hurricane Mash.
Our third goal is to scout out some territory, a little pied-a-terre, where I can build my little dream cottage. Ok, ok, it will be a dream shack, but who needs a cottage when you're 200 yards from the high tide line and in the direct path of no less than 3 Cat 5 hurricanes every decade?
Our final goal and well, my own personal goal, is to simply dig my toes in hot pink sand and spend some time swimming in an aquamarine paradisical coral jungle. Ya know, like Nemo in the Disney movie... That coral jungle.
I promise not to think of you while I'm sucking back the Barbancour and cokes on the beach, so long as you promise not to harbour ill will towards me while I'm gone. See you on the shorter side of winter.
Me out.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Spam, not just for breakfast anymore.
When I was a little girl, the word "spam" meant a spiced ham, that came in a tin can with a key, made by Hormel Foods.
This photo is the link to spam.com:
Hormel probably had no idea that their brand name would become a household name meaning something that nobody, especially we-bloggers, wants.
Just recently, I've been spammed by several people. They've posted little comments in my we-blog comments section as if I had spoken about something they're obviously interested in and then left a web-link to their sites.
Said sites are of course those weirded out little advertising sites that people seem to think they can create to sell to big companies who will be interested in the site content that they've gone to all the trouble to put together for them.
They suck.
This photo is the link to spam.com:
Hormel probably had no idea that their brand name would become a household name meaning something that nobody, especially we-bloggers, wants.
Just recently, I've been spammed by several people. They've posted little comments in my we-blog comments section as if I had spoken about something they're obviously interested in and then left a web-link to their sites.
Said sites are of course those weirded out little advertising sites that people seem to think they can create to sell to big companies who will be interested in the site content that they've gone to all the trouble to put together for them.
They suck.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Writers block. Gak!
It's one of those days.
I actually have the time to write. I can't publish the blog that I want to for fear of reprisals and I haven't anything else I really want to say.
Sigh.
Maybe if I were getting paid???
Me out.
I actually have the time to write. I can't publish the blog that I want to for fear of reprisals and I haven't anything else I really want to say.
Sigh.
Maybe if I were getting paid???
Me out.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Putting the heat in the hot seat...
Someone saw the ingredients list on Peppermaster's Chili Chocolate Passion and made the comment that no self-respecting chilihead would eat a Mole made with extract; Actually, he said "self-respecting Mexican", but I digress.
Which was annoying enough to me, since what the guy who was posting refers to as an extract isn't what I was thinking was an extract. So the art department got busy trying to figure out what better way to say that we extract the natural essence from the pepper for the Chocolate sauce.
Which of course brings me to this blog.
After doing a bit of research two big questions come to mind. First is why the heck would anyone even put an "extract" into their mouths, never mind into their hot sauce? And second, with it being so subjective, how do you know how hot a sauce really is?
I'll start with the extract. The idea is pretty inert at first, but in truth, really, there is something scary to me about the idea of extracting capsaicin from a pepper... Especially when you learn how it is done.
Read this:
Said pharmaceutical chemist Lloyd Matheson of the University of Iowa, who once inhaled some capsaicin accidentally:
Source of quotes: Fiery Foods.
It takes guts to want to work with that sort of toxicity. I have two doors between my office and the kitchen, and they're both closed tight during production so that I don't inhale the peppers while they're cooking back there. I can't imagine what pain I would be in, were I to inhale pure capsaicin powder. Can you say; "major owie"?
There is a link to a University of Toronto page that gives instructions on extracting capsaicin. I gather it's class instruction for a chemistry lab.
In the quote it mentions the use of "acetonitrile" as the extraction solvent.
So, I looked up acetonitrile and do you know what it is more commonly known as??? Methyl Cyanide.
According to www.reciprocalnet.org,
Whuuuuut?
Toxic... explosive... And we're eating this? Eeeeew Gross!
Is there any wonder that the Scovie Awards judges refuse to taste sauces made with extracts?
Truth be told though, lots of extract-based sauce makers don't actually use Methyl Cyanide extracted capsaicin. They use pure grain alcohol to force the capsaicin out of the peppers, strain off the pulp of the fruit and somehow manage to get nothing left but capsaicin. Then in the cooking, they evaporate off the alcohol; I hope; at least that seems to be the idea. I'm sure there's way more to it than that and I've probably really oversimplified the entire process, but until I can find step by step instructions, somewhere, that's as close as I can get to explaining the process in layman's terms.
Given the premise that self-respecting chiliheads can not or will not eat sauces that contain these extracts, what do they eat?
For starters. We chiliheads like it hot. The hotter the better. The problem is that depending on how long we've been chiliheads and what peppers we are used to eating, one chiliheads' hot might be completely different from another chiliheads' hot.
Which brings us to the question that I get asked all the time; how hot is it.
Most self-respecting chiliheads have at least heard of the Scoville scale, even if they don't know how different peppers score on it or even if they can't quite remember what it is called.
The Scoville scale was invented in 1912 by Wilbur Scoville. And even though it is a subjective taste test it has the misplaced respect that a more scientific test might deserve. When the scale was invented, (and it is still the same test, today), it asked a panel of tasters to state when an increasingly dilute pepper solution no longer burned. And based on the tasters, the peppers were given their Scoville levels... Generally stated, one part per million of 'rates' would then score 1.5 Scoville units. Confused? Yeah me too, but that's beside the point. The point is they taste the stuff, score it and based on that, it gets a certain number of Scoville units. Got it? Ok.
So, I'm thinking wouldn't that scale be different if the tasters were all chiliheads or heaven forbid, if none of them were? Like I said; subjective. I've seen people take Peppermaster Hurricane Mash in their mouths like it was apple sauce and once tested, we are pretty certain it would score about 200,000 to 300,000 scoville units, essentially because it is 90% pure pepper solids and those peppers all regularly score 250,000 to as much as 577,000 on the Scoville scale. By the same token, I've had people go berserk simply tasting the Chili Chocolate Passion sauce, which based on their reactions, could suggest that the sauce would score more than 200,000 because it's made with the same peppers, but then again, if someone (like me) is used to eating habaneros and scotch bonnets regularly, it might only score 60,000 or less... subjective. Even for those of us used to eating such peppers, that subjectiveness becomes really clear when one takes a teaspoon of the sauce and mixes it into a hot cup of coffee. Rather than being a mild burgeoning heat in the back of the throat, as described on our label, it suddenly becomes a fuming heat that you notice immediately. But, if the chilihead is used to that type of pepper, it still might not feel hot. again, subjective.
Depending on how you look at it, though, it could have absolutely nothing to do with the taster, it could be entirely affected by the ingredients one uses in the sauce. Again, I use the Chili Chocolate Passion as an example, once mixed with the chocolate, butter, sugar and other ingredients, the effect of the peppers is modified. The more of a chilihead one is, the more the nullification is obvious; so much so, that real diehard chiliheads can't even feel the heat.
It gets worse. When one starts bouncing around the internet trying to find out how many scoville units a particular type of pepper or a particular sauce has. It gets ridiculous. It makes me wonder how any self-respecting chilihead can possibly accept a Scoville unit as having anything but historical significance when it comes to heat classing peppers.
www.chileseeds.com.uk clocks jalapenos at 25,000.
www.gourmetsleuth.com has them at 2,500-5,000.
www.thescarms.com has them score 2500 - 8000.
and The Chile Pepper Institute scores them between 4,000 - 50,000 And these guys have the good sense to show that those scores occurred over different breeds of jalapenos.
Individual peppers are going to have enormously varying levels of heat even off the same bush. So, one could readily eat even habanero peppers as if they were candy, then suddenly, one day, they hit a really hot one and ochochaw! As Jimmy Durante might say.
What that means is that depending on what they're tasting, depending on how used to that particular pepper the taster is, depending, depending, depending... Why are we even talking about this test? It's a joke. It's like measuring a child's fever by placing your hand on their forehead, wearing gloves. Sigh.
Interestingly enough, there is a more technologically advanced test available, which only the sauce makers seem to be aware of and it's called the HPLC test, or High Performance Liquid Chromatography. An HPLC legitimately detects the heat compounds in the peppers and records the amount in parts per million (ppm). For the diehard need-to-know-the-scoville-unit chilihead, a quick conversion is to multiply the HPLC ppm by 15 to get the Scoville Heat Unit. So, here we are back at Scoville units.
So once now you know more than you ever need to know about Scoville units. How is that supposed to help anyone be able to tell you what the world's hottest pepper is?
The Guinness Book of World Records records the Red Savina Habanero as the World's Hottest Spice.
So, given that the Red Savina Habanero holds the world record, does that make it the World's hottest pepper? I'm not so sure.
Reimer Seeds, world famous seed distributor, sells a Tepin Pepper, which is subtitled "World's Hottest Pepper".
Greg Brooks, reputed Peppermaster and owner of Brooks Pepperfire Foods, will argue to his grave that the Bahamian goatpepper is the hottest pepper and indeed the hottest pepper he has ever tasted.
And, according to an article, by Dave Dewitt, the famed Pope of Peppers, which appeared in Chile Pepper Magazine, a report from the Chile Pepper Institute details tests they had done which shows both the Orange Habanero and the Chocolate Brown Habanero beating out the Red Savina.
Then of course there is the infamous Tezpur pepper from India. It supposedly scored a whopping 850,000 scoville units. Published in the Japanese magazine, Paper Sky, the Tezpur is supposedly the Naga Jolokia. Wow! FWIW, the Naga Jolokia in and of itself is another blog altogether. Suffice it to say at this particular moment in time, that I believe the Naga Jolokia is a frutecens and not a chinense and thus incapable of ever scoring enough Scoville units to ever beat out any habanero breed, nevermind score 850,000.
So, moving on... there is more.
I'm going to narrow the whole thing down for you and conclude this entire blog so that when you click away from here (assuming you're still reading), you'll know the correct and only answer to the question; What is the world's hottest pepper.
There are essentially 1000s of different kinds of hot peppers, but there are really only a few "types". Those types are broken down into (but not limited to) the following: (Note that sweet green and red peppers don't have capcaicin, so I'm not even going to include those here.)
With me so far?
Well, Capiscum baccatums include such peppers as Aji and Puyas and they tend to have such small amounts of capsaicin as to be barely warm on a good day.
Capiscum annuums tend to include peppers such as jalapenos and cayennes, and other generally not very hot chili peppers. The Scoville units on such peppers range from anywhere near 0 to as high as 75,000. These are noticibly warm.
Capiscum frutescens tend to include super cayennes, such as the Naga Jolokia and the Tabasco. They can also range from anywhere near 0 to as high as 120,000. These are noticibly hot to extremely hot (depending on what kind of heat you can take)
and
Capiscum chinenses are the hot babies, scotch bonnets, habaneros, my beloved goatpeppers, etc. They include, of course, the Guinness World Record holding Red Savina which as we already mentioned scored 577,000 Scoville units. These are just plain extremely hot.
Wait it gets better. Anyone who has ever grown peppers can attest to this, but the heat level of any individual pepper, regardless of its type, can and will vary from one bush to the next and even from one pepper to the next on the same bush! Which is why ranges are used by the real pepper experts.
So what does this all have to do with the true heat level of peppers. Well, frankly, everything.
What my entire diatribe tells me, (you, of course, can draw your own conclusions) is that the potency of a Capiscum annuum may occasionally beat out a Capiscum frutescens but more often than not, the Capsicum frutescens will beat the Capiscum annuum, but neither type has the ability to come up with the potency that one finds in the Capiscum chinense peppers. And thus it's obvious to any logical thinker that any chinense has the given potential to beat out any other chinense at any time, but that neither variety of chinense has as yet come up with a consistent enough potency to give it the true name of World's Hottest Pepper.
So, to conclude; What is the hottest pepper in the world?
Why, the Capiscum chinense, of course.
You can say you got that from me.
Me out.
Which was annoying enough to me, since what the guy who was posting refers to as an extract isn't what I was thinking was an extract. So the art department got busy trying to figure out what better way to say that we extract the natural essence from the pepper for the Chocolate sauce.
Which of course brings me to this blog.
After doing a bit of research two big questions come to mind. First is why the heck would anyone even put an "extract" into their mouths, never mind into their hot sauce? And second, with it being so subjective, how do you know how hot a sauce really is?
I'll start with the extract. The idea is pretty inert at first, but in truth, really, there is something scary to me about the idea of extracting capsaicin from a pepper... Especially when you learn how it is done.
Read this:
"Pure capsaicin is so powerful that chemists who handle the crystalline powder must work in a filtered "tox room" in full body protection. The suit has a closed hood to prevent inhaling the powder."
Said pharmaceutical chemist Lloyd Matheson of the University of Iowa, who once inhaled some capsaicin accidentally:
"It’s not toxic, but you wish you were dead if you inhale it."
"One milligram of pure capsaicin placed on your hand would feel like a red-hot poker and would surely blister the skin,"said capsaicin expert Marlin Bensinger."
Source of quotes: Fiery Foods.
It takes guts to want to work with that sort of toxicity. I have two doors between my office and the kitchen, and they're both closed tight during production so that I don't inhale the peppers while they're cooking back there. I can't imagine what pain I would be in, were I to inhale pure capsaicin powder. Can you say; "major owie"?
There is a link to a University of Toronto page that gives instructions on extracting capsaicin. I gather it's class instruction for a chemistry lab.
In the quote it mentions the use of "acetonitrile" as the extraction solvent.
So, I looked up acetonitrile and do you know what it is more commonly known as??? Methyl Cyanide.
According to www.reciprocalnet.org,
"Methyl Cyanide is a toxic, colorless liquid with an aromatic (ether like) odor and forms explosive mixtures with air."
Whuuuuut?
Toxic... explosive... And we're eating this? Eeeeew Gross!
Is there any wonder that the Scovie Awards judges refuse to taste sauces made with extracts?
Truth be told though, lots of extract-based sauce makers don't actually use Methyl Cyanide extracted capsaicin. They use pure grain alcohol to force the capsaicin out of the peppers, strain off the pulp of the fruit and somehow manage to get nothing left but capsaicin. Then in the cooking, they evaporate off the alcohol; I hope; at least that seems to be the idea. I'm sure there's way more to it than that and I've probably really oversimplified the entire process, but until I can find step by step instructions, somewhere, that's as close as I can get to explaining the process in layman's terms.
Given the premise that self-respecting chiliheads can not or will not eat sauces that contain these extracts, what do they eat?
For starters. We chiliheads like it hot. The hotter the better. The problem is that depending on how long we've been chiliheads and what peppers we are used to eating, one chiliheads' hot might be completely different from another chiliheads' hot.
Which brings us to the question that I get asked all the time; how hot is it.
Most self-respecting chiliheads have at least heard of the Scoville scale, even if they don't know how different peppers score on it or even if they can't quite remember what it is called.
The Scoville scale was invented in 1912 by Wilbur Scoville. And even though it is a subjective taste test it has the misplaced respect that a more scientific test might deserve. When the scale was invented, (and it is still the same test, today), it asked a panel of tasters to state when an increasingly dilute pepper solution no longer burned. And based on the tasters, the peppers were given their Scoville levels... Generally stated, one part per million of 'rates' would then score 1.5 Scoville units. Confused? Yeah me too, but that's beside the point. The point is they taste the stuff, score it and based on that, it gets a certain number of Scoville units. Got it? Ok.
So, I'm thinking wouldn't that scale be different if the tasters were all chiliheads or heaven forbid, if none of them were? Like I said; subjective. I've seen people take Peppermaster Hurricane Mash in their mouths like it was apple sauce and once tested, we are pretty certain it would score about 200,000 to 300,000 scoville units, essentially because it is 90% pure pepper solids and those peppers all regularly score 250,000 to as much as 577,000 on the Scoville scale. By the same token, I've had people go berserk simply tasting the Chili Chocolate Passion sauce, which based on their reactions, could suggest that the sauce would score more than 200,000 because it's made with the same peppers, but then again, if someone (like me) is used to eating habaneros and scotch bonnets regularly, it might only score 60,000 or less... subjective. Even for those of us used to eating such peppers, that subjectiveness becomes really clear when one takes a teaspoon of the sauce and mixes it into a hot cup of coffee. Rather than being a mild burgeoning heat in the back of the throat, as described on our label, it suddenly becomes a fuming heat that you notice immediately. But, if the chilihead is used to that type of pepper, it still might not feel hot. again, subjective.
Depending on how you look at it, though, it could have absolutely nothing to do with the taster, it could be entirely affected by the ingredients one uses in the sauce. Again, I use the Chili Chocolate Passion as an example, once mixed with the chocolate, butter, sugar and other ingredients, the effect of the peppers is modified. The more of a chilihead one is, the more the nullification is obvious; so much so, that real diehard chiliheads can't even feel the heat.
It gets worse. When one starts bouncing around the internet trying to find out how many scoville units a particular type of pepper or a particular sauce has. It gets ridiculous. It makes me wonder how any self-respecting chilihead can possibly accept a Scoville unit as having anything but historical significance when it comes to heat classing peppers.
www.chileseeds.com.uk clocks jalapenos at 25,000.
www.gourmetsleuth.com has them at 2,500-5,000.
www.thescarms.com has them score 2500 - 8000.
and The Chile Pepper Institute scores them between 4,000 - 50,000 And these guys have the good sense to show that those scores occurred over different breeds of jalapenos.
Individual peppers are going to have enormously varying levels of heat even off the same bush. So, one could readily eat even habanero peppers as if they were candy, then suddenly, one day, they hit a really hot one and ochochaw! As Jimmy Durante might say.
What that means is that depending on what they're tasting, depending on how used to that particular pepper the taster is, depending, depending, depending... Why are we even talking about this test? It's a joke. It's like measuring a child's fever by placing your hand on their forehead, wearing gloves. Sigh.
Interestingly enough, there is a more technologically advanced test available, which only the sauce makers seem to be aware of and it's called the HPLC test, or High Performance Liquid Chromatography. An HPLC legitimately detects the heat compounds in the peppers and records the amount in parts per million (ppm). For the diehard need-to-know-the-scoville-unit chilihead, a quick conversion is to multiply the HPLC ppm by 15 to get the Scoville Heat Unit. So, here we are back at Scoville units.
So once now you know more than you ever need to know about Scoville units. How is that supposed to help anyone be able to tell you what the world's hottest pepper is?
The Guinness Book of World Records records the Red Savina Habanero as the World's Hottest Spice.
"It has a rating of 350,000–570,000 on the Scoville scale (an index for measuring the hotness of chilies), compared with a score of 2,500–5,000 for the jalapeño."It seems that even they know better than to say a pepper has a certain Scoville unit rating. The record was entered by GNS Spices of Walnut California in 1994. It scored a whopping 577,000 Scoville units. Of course, it doesn't say how, but then, it's the record holder.
So, given that the Red Savina Habanero holds the world record, does that make it the World's hottest pepper? I'm not so sure.
Reimer Seeds, world famous seed distributor, sells a Tepin Pepper, which is subtitled "World's Hottest Pepper".
Greg Brooks, reputed Peppermaster and owner of Brooks Pepperfire Foods, will argue to his grave that the Bahamian goatpepper is the hottest pepper and indeed the hottest pepper he has ever tasted.
And, according to an article, by Dave Dewitt, the famed Pope of Peppers, which appeared in Chile Pepper Magazine, a report from the Chile Pepper Institute details tests they had done which shows both the Orange Habanero and the Chocolate Brown Habanero beating out the Red Savina.
Then of course there is the infamous Tezpur pepper from India. It supposedly scored a whopping 850,000 scoville units. Published in the Japanese magazine, Paper Sky, the Tezpur is supposedly the Naga Jolokia. Wow! FWIW, the Naga Jolokia in and of itself is another blog altogether. Suffice it to say at this particular moment in time, that I believe the Naga Jolokia is a frutecens and not a chinense and thus incapable of ever scoring enough Scoville units to ever beat out any habanero breed, nevermind score 850,000.
So, moving on... there is more.
I'm going to narrow the whole thing down for you and conclude this entire blog so that when you click away from here (assuming you're still reading), you'll know the correct and only answer to the question; What is the world's hottest pepper.
There are essentially 1000s of different kinds of hot peppers, but there are really only a few "types". Those types are broken down into (but not limited to) the following: (Note that sweet green and red peppers don't have capcaicin, so I'm not even going to include those here.)
Capiscum baccatum
Capiscum annuum
Capiscum frutescens
Capiscum chinense
With me so far?
Well, Capiscum baccatums include such peppers as Aji and Puyas and they tend to have such small amounts of capsaicin as to be barely warm on a good day.
Capiscum annuums tend to include peppers such as jalapenos and cayennes, and other generally not very hot chili peppers. The Scoville units on such peppers range from anywhere near 0 to as high as 75,000. These are noticibly warm.
Capiscum frutescens tend to include super cayennes, such as the Naga Jolokia and the Tabasco. They can also range from anywhere near 0 to as high as 120,000. These are noticibly hot to extremely hot (depending on what kind of heat you can take)
and
Capiscum chinenses are the hot babies, scotch bonnets, habaneros, my beloved goatpeppers, etc. They include, of course, the Guinness World Record holding Red Savina which as we already mentioned scored 577,000 Scoville units. These are just plain extremely hot.
Wait it gets better. Anyone who has ever grown peppers can attest to this, but the heat level of any individual pepper, regardless of its type, can and will vary from one bush to the next and even from one pepper to the next on the same bush! Which is why ranges are used by the real pepper experts.
So what does this all have to do with the true heat level of peppers. Well, frankly, everything.
What my entire diatribe tells me, (you, of course, can draw your own conclusions) is that the potency of a Capiscum annuum may occasionally beat out a Capiscum frutescens but more often than not, the Capsicum frutescens will beat the Capiscum annuum, but neither type has the ability to come up with the potency that one finds in the Capiscum chinense peppers. And thus it's obvious to any logical thinker that any chinense has the given potential to beat out any other chinense at any time, but that neither variety of chinense has as yet come up with a consistent enough potency to give it the true name of World's Hottest Pepper.
So, to conclude; What is the hottest pepper in the world?
Why, the Capiscum chinense, of course.
You can say you got that from me.
Me out.
Hurricane Katrina had me singing; how much is that doggie in the window?
A song sung by Patti Page and written by Bob Merrill is a rather dopey little tribute to a puppy in a pet store window. This blog is a waggly finger diatribe to every dog owner who at this very moment in time does not have a valid-up-to-date-registered-dog-tag on their dog. (I would have said "or their cat", except I don't like cats.)
Texas oil tycoon Boone Pickens and his wife, Madeleine, spent about $50,000 to charter a flight from Baton Rouge Louisiana on Sunday. The flight wasn't a last ditch effort for a wealthy oil baron to get out of hurricane devastated Louisiana, but a really nice man and his family's contribution to airlifting as many as 200 dogs out of the area to safety, food and water.
Organized by www.petrelocation.com, Operation Pet Lift failed in its goal but still managed to save 80 dogs. Sadly enough, organizers were stymied by Federal regulations that require them to quarantine the dogs for 30 days before they can fly out. Even so, all of the animals are being vet checked, vaccinated and microchipped ... so that the organizers can track the animals in case an owner does come looking for them.
www.petfinder.com is setting up a database of pet pictures to help reunite owners with lost animals.
Andrew Rowan, executive vice president of operations for the Humane Society was quoted by CNN News as saying
Now I understand that dogs really are second class citizens, but I have to wonder, given the choice, would I ditch my dog? Hard to say, I wasn't there and it wasn't my dog.
It's all very sad. But the dogs in New Orleans were not the only dogs affected by Katrina.
This story pales in comparison to what these dogs are going to have to go through, but, once told, it will tie together the whole Hurricane Katrina/dog tag issue.
Katrina whipped across the States and hit us a couple of days later. It was still quite the storm when she got here. But nothing like what whipped through New Orleans and Mississippi.
Anyway, that morning, I went to open up my shop and there on the front porch was a shivering, soaking wet ball of what may or may not have been a dog. She looked like she'd been rolled in mud and the poor thing was in shock.
She fortunately was wearing a dog tag, so we wrapped her up in some dry towels, rubbed her down to help increase her circulation and warm her up and then I called the town hall.
The dog catcher wasn't in, but town hall had a record of the dog tag. The clerk looked up the tag and phoned the owner. Then she called me back and gave me the number of the owner. Who was thrilled to hear that her puppy was ok.
It seems that when the thunder and lightning started flashing the puppy had freaked out. So the owner, foolishly had put her outside; big mistake. The puppy freaked out even more and ended up running herself into a state where she got lost, ended up on my porch, wet, muddy and exhausted.
Well, to make a long story short, the owner came to fetch her puppy and by the time they were ready to head home, the puppy was back to her old self, wagging her tail, wanting to go for walkies! Dog's are so easy to please.
So, here's the part where it all ties together... Are you excited yet???
Let's say there really are 50,000 misplaced dogs because of Katrina. One wonders how many of them are sitting there having been rescued by one of these groups and for whatever reason, don't have registration tags. 1,000, 10,000??? Who can say?
With the results of this Hurricane causing so much thought to be put towards disaster preparation, FEMA, Hurricane relief and heaven knows what else. One wonders if anyone is putting thought into disaster preparation that includes the family pets.
Register your dog. At the very least, in a disaster situation, you'll be able to find your pet. Especially if, as is the case for the 80 dogs that the Pickens' family airlifted out, your dog was displaced to San Diego by a hurricane.
Texas oil tycoon Boone Pickens and his wife, Madeleine, spent about $50,000 to charter a flight from Baton Rouge Louisiana on Sunday. The flight wasn't a last ditch effort for a wealthy oil baron to get out of hurricane devastated Louisiana, but a really nice man and his family's contribution to airlifting as many as 200 dogs out of the area to safety, food and water.
Organized by www.petrelocation.com, Operation Pet Lift failed in its goal but still managed to save 80 dogs. Sadly enough, organizers were stymied by Federal regulations that require them to quarantine the dogs for 30 days before they can fly out. Even so, all of the animals are being vet checked, vaccinated and microchipped ... so that the organizers can track the animals in case an owner does come looking for them.
www.petfinder.com is setting up a database of pet pictures to help reunite owners with lost animals.
Andrew Rowan, executive vice president of operations for the Humane Society was quoted by CNN News as saying
"maybe 50,000 or more dogs and cats in New Orleans that need to be rescued. There are vans and cars and trucks all over the place. Dogs are barking, cats are meowing. It's a tremendous logistical operation to provide the care that these animals need."I was stunned by news reports that helicopters had airlifted out people but they were forced to leave their beloved dogs behind.
Now I understand that dogs really are second class citizens, but I have to wonder, given the choice, would I ditch my dog? Hard to say, I wasn't there and it wasn't my dog.
It's all very sad. But the dogs in New Orleans were not the only dogs affected by Katrina.
This story pales in comparison to what these dogs are going to have to go through, but, once told, it will tie together the whole Hurricane Katrina/dog tag issue.
Katrina whipped across the States and hit us a couple of days later. It was still quite the storm when she got here. But nothing like what whipped through New Orleans and Mississippi.
Anyway, that morning, I went to open up my shop and there on the front porch was a shivering, soaking wet ball of what may or may not have been a dog. She looked like she'd been rolled in mud and the poor thing was in shock.
She fortunately was wearing a dog tag, so we wrapped her up in some dry towels, rubbed her down to help increase her circulation and warm her up and then I called the town hall.
The dog catcher wasn't in, but town hall had a record of the dog tag. The clerk looked up the tag and phoned the owner. Then she called me back and gave me the number of the owner. Who was thrilled to hear that her puppy was ok.
It seems that when the thunder and lightning started flashing the puppy had freaked out. So the owner, foolishly had put her outside; big mistake. The puppy freaked out even more and ended up running herself into a state where she got lost, ended up on my porch, wet, muddy and exhausted.
Well, to make a long story short, the owner came to fetch her puppy and by the time they were ready to head home, the puppy was back to her old self, wagging her tail, wanting to go for walkies! Dog's are so easy to please.
So, here's the part where it all ties together... Are you excited yet???
Let's say there really are 50,000 misplaced dogs because of Katrina. One wonders how many of them are sitting there having been rescued by one of these groups and for whatever reason, don't have registration tags. 1,000, 10,000??? Who can say?
With the results of this Hurricane causing so much thought to be put towards disaster preparation, FEMA, Hurricane relief and heaven knows what else. One wonders if anyone is putting thought into disaster preparation that includes the family pets.
Register your dog. At the very least, in a disaster situation, you'll be able to find your pet. Especially if, as is the case for the 80 dogs that the Pickens' family airlifted out, your dog was displaced to San Diego by a hurricane.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Grow your own!
I opened up the office the other day to discover that we were missing some pepper plants. Lots of them... four out of six to be precise. Someone had taken four of my pepper plants off the front porch and made off with them.
Thieves suck!
I don't agree with it, but I can appreciate someone having to steal to feed their family. I really don't agree with it, but I can appreciate someone having to steal to feed their habit... But what in the devil possesses people who steal for no good reason other than to have something that doesn't belong to them?
Here are my beautiful little pepper plants, nurtured from seeds, watered and chatted to; cared for in the hopes that we might be able to coax a pepper or two out of their beautiful leafy green stalks. But now... someone else is going to get to partake of their hot sweet heavenly goodness. I hope they're real wooses and they hurt themselves. Grrrrr.
We figured it was just teens messing around, because in the place of my missing pepper pots, we received two hanging flower bags... the kind that sort of look like they should be hanging from a headstone. The kind that our next-door neighbour uses to decorate her front porch! Well, at least she woke up to hers simply being out of place, and not gone.
The big problem arose when I opened up yesterday morning to discover that the thief had returned for one of the two big pots!
What was going through the thief's mind as he or she staggered down the street with an enormous pepper plant in their arms.
I called the Surete (our local police enforcement officials) to come and take a statement. They did. The sent M. Talbot... His note on the file confirmation he gave me, reads "Vol de pots"... doesn't even mention the peppers. Sigh. Oddly, he also felt the bizarre need to make a point of saying "I hope you don't think you're going to get these plants back".
Well, duh! of course I don't; but I do want them back. You know, I live in a town with a running 0% crime rate for what is now fifteen years, and the one and only crime that ever occurs, won't even get investigated because... well, because I haven't a hope in hell of getting my peppers back. There is something wrong with that mentality. It kinda makes me wonder if the reason the crime rate is 0% is because nobody bothers to report crime because it doesn't get investigated anyway.
It's times like this when I rather like the way that Catholicism deals with thieves.
Thieves suck!
I don't agree with it, but I can appreciate someone having to steal to feed their family. I really don't agree with it, but I can appreciate someone having to steal to feed their habit... But what in the devil possesses people who steal for no good reason other than to have something that doesn't belong to them?
Here are my beautiful little pepper plants, nurtured from seeds, watered and chatted to; cared for in the hopes that we might be able to coax a pepper or two out of their beautiful leafy green stalks. But now... someone else is going to get to partake of their hot sweet heavenly goodness. I hope they're real wooses and they hurt themselves. Grrrrr.
We figured it was just teens messing around, because in the place of my missing pepper pots, we received two hanging flower bags... the kind that sort of look like they should be hanging from a headstone. The kind that our next-door neighbour uses to decorate her front porch! Well, at least she woke up to hers simply being out of place, and not gone.
The big problem arose when I opened up yesterday morning to discover that the thief had returned for one of the two big pots!
What was going through the thief's mind as he or she staggered down the street with an enormous pepper plant in their arms.
I called the Surete (our local police enforcement officials) to come and take a statement. They did. The sent M. Talbot... His note on the file confirmation he gave me, reads "Vol de pots"... doesn't even mention the peppers. Sigh. Oddly, he also felt the bizarre need to make a point of saying "I hope you don't think you're going to get these plants back".
Well, duh! of course I don't; but I do want them back. You know, I live in a town with a running 0% crime rate for what is now fifteen years, and the one and only crime that ever occurs, won't even get investigated because... well, because I haven't a hope in hell of getting my peppers back. There is something wrong with that mentality. It kinda makes me wonder if the reason the crime rate is 0% is because nobody bothers to report crime because it doesn't get investigated anyway.
It's times like this when I rather like the way that Catholicism deals with thieves.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Open Letter to Same-Sex Marriage Opponents...
The Government of Canada had only two ways to stop this legislation from passing yesterday.
1. Get out of the marriage game altogether, then it would be the sole responsibility of churches.
2. Invoke the notwithstanding clause.
The only reason that same-sex marriage is a "civil rights" issue in Canada is because the Government currently oversees and grants marriages to heterosexual couples. Because heterosexuals can have a marriage license, but not gays, it is automatically a civil rights issue. You can't allow one Canadian to have access to something but then refuse other Canadians the same access; that would be unconstitutional. Fancy that.
It's a real pity the right wing extremists are unable to comprehend that reality.
I have a suggestion for those Yankees who are so homophobic that you oppose this legislation: You stay out of our bedrooms and we'll stay out of your wars.
And for those Canadians who think they can change this now that it's cleared Government...
I suggest you learn to quit whining about the fact that this got pushed through Government and either invoke the Notwithstanding Clause or lobby the Government to get out of the marriage game altogether... Those were the only two ways to do this yesterday and they're the only two ways to do that today.
Sorry Charlie.
1. Get out of the marriage game altogether, then it would be the sole responsibility of churches.
2. Invoke the notwithstanding clause.
The only reason that same-sex marriage is a "civil rights" issue in Canada is because the Government currently oversees and grants marriages to heterosexual couples. Because heterosexuals can have a marriage license, but not gays, it is automatically a civil rights issue. You can't allow one Canadian to have access to something but then refuse other Canadians the same access; that would be unconstitutional. Fancy that.
It's a real pity the right wing extremists are unable to comprehend that reality.
I have a suggestion for those Yankees who are so homophobic that you oppose this legislation: You stay out of our bedrooms and we'll stay out of your wars.
And for those Canadians who think they can change this now that it's cleared Government...
I suggest you learn to quit whining about the fact that this got pushed through Government and either invoke the Notwithstanding Clause or lobby the Government to get out of the marriage game altogether... Those were the only two ways to do this yesterday and they're the only two ways to do that today.
Sorry Charlie.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Hypocrite of the Day...
Peter McKay...
For suggesting that the Conservatives didn't get into bed or make an agreement with the Bloc while trying to destroy the Liberal Government.
For suggesting that his dog was more "loyal" than Belinda Stronach.
Peter McKay gets a taste of his own medicine.
And this guy thinks the Liberal's seats will be in question come the next election?
He's lucky he's not running in my riding; we'd have run him out of town on a rail!
For suggesting that the Conservatives didn't get into bed or make an agreement with the Bloc while trying to destroy the Liberal Government.
For suggesting that his dog was more "loyal" than Belinda Stronach.
Peter McKay gets a taste of his own medicine.
And this guy thinks the Liberal's seats will be in question come the next election?
He's lucky he's not running in my riding; we'd have run him out of town on a rail!
Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave...
As I write this, the Canadian House of Parliament is about to vote to pass Bill C-38.
The same-sex marriage bill.
I've waited a long time to see real equal rights for gays in this country.
Today, in Parliament, with the third reading of Bill C-38, the civil marriage for gays bill, and the passing of that bill, those rights became law.
158 yeas to 133 nays.
If the Conservatives wish to change the law, they will now have to invoke the notwithstanding clause.
I couldn't be happier. The only bittersweet is that Guy and Joe didn't survive to see it happen.
The same-sex marriage bill.
I've waited a long time to see real equal rights for gays in this country.
Today, in Parliament, with the third reading of Bill C-38, the civil marriage for gays bill, and the passing of that bill, those rights became law.
158 yeas to 133 nays.
If the Conservatives wish to change the law, they will now have to invoke the notwithstanding clause.
I couldn't be happier. The only bittersweet is that Guy and Joe didn't survive to see it happen.
Friday, June 17, 2005
How the hell does it get to that point?
Have you ever said to yourself, "My house is a pigsty."?
Have you got dirty dishes to be washed, and crumbs from breakfast on the counter and a floor that could use sweeping? Can your fridge and freezer stand to be washed and tidied? Are the garbage cans due to be emptied? Is the laundry due to be done and your bed unmade?
Is your house just untidy, or are you living in squalor?
No really. I don't just mean untidy house, I mean a really messy house.
This photograph (removed photograph of trash piled to within one foot of ceiling) is of someone's living room. It is absolutely incredible to me and makes me wonder what goes through one's mind or doesn't that causes their house to get that way.
A friend of mine took this photo and several others just like it. I can't tell you how he came to be in possession of these photographs or where he is, but what I can tell you is that this is the SECOND time I've seen photos like this from him. My friend says that it's not his second time, that he sees it quite often. He also believes that he has this disorder but caught it early enough to deal with it.
That's frightening.
The person that owns the place in these photographs literally offered to "crawl into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of coffee".
The disorder has several names, from what I can tell: Squalor syndrome and Compulsive hoarding are the two most popular.
According to the February 2005 newsletter of the Mood Disorders Support Group of New York City, it's not quite so uncommon as one might think.
Associated with other mood disorders, such as anxiety, eating disorders, schizophrenia, dementia, mental retardation, autism and brain injury, the disorder can come about in people with absolutely no psychiatric history or illness of any kind.
How do you recognize a hoarder? A common feature of hoards includes piles of paper or newspapers, magazines, books, mail, notes, and lists. Some will have piles of old clothes, rotting food and stray animals. Research tells me that at it's worst, hoarders will have accumulations of both animal and human waste where it ought not to be, such as in the kitchen or on the bed.
Hoarding:
The two hoarders who have had incident to touch my life through my friend, are both elderly, socially isolated and suspicious. This most recent one, whose photos appears in this blog, refused entry to the home by anyone for over 13 years.
Like any other such disorder, hoarders only seek help when they hit bottom or when the hoarding is discovered by others. In other words, when a neighbour or a cop notices the smell or when the filth starts spilling out of the house into the yard.
In this latest case it was a sewer backup in the basement that forced the hoarder to call for help but in the earlier case my friend told me about, the hoarder asked for help after 15 years. As you can see by the pictures; 13 years of trash piles up quite heavily. Imagine how the other place looked when my friend went in to clean up.
I've come across warnings that say that simply cleaning out the clutter will not solve the problem. Sometimes this will create a worse problem and further isolate the hoarder and they just start hoarding again.
I've asked my friend if the first hoarder has gone back to hoarding. He tells me that they've moved into an apartment and their neice has taken care to get them a roommate/caretaker who ensures that the hoarding cannot continue. I don't know what will happen to this latest hoarder. Let's hope they can get the help they need. At 75 though, I'm not holding my breath.
If you know a hoarder, and I don't simply mean someone who won't pick up after themselves, I mean a hoarder, there are ways of helping them get help.
UOCHD offers the following suggestions (click on the link for the details of the text):
1. INFORM YOURSELF AND TRY TO UNDERSTAND.
2. DON'T FIGHT THE FIGHT FOR THEM. (iow, let them clean it up or you're wasting your time)
3. SHOW THEM THE OPTIONS AND THAT THERE IS HOPE.
It's like the old joke, how many psychiatrists does it take to change the lightbulb... and the answer is, Just one... but the lightbulb has really got to want to change.
Only it isn't a joke. It's real, very very very real.
Have you got dirty dishes to be washed, and crumbs from breakfast on the counter and a floor that could use sweeping? Can your fridge and freezer stand to be washed and tidied? Are the garbage cans due to be emptied? Is the laundry due to be done and your bed unmade?
Is your house just untidy, or are you living in squalor?
No really. I don't just mean untidy house, I mean a really messy house.
This photograph (removed photograph of trash piled to within one foot of ceiling) is of someone's living room. It is absolutely incredible to me and makes me wonder what goes through one's mind or doesn't that causes their house to get that way.
A friend of mine took this photo and several others just like it. I can't tell you how he came to be in possession of these photographs or where he is, but what I can tell you is that this is the SECOND time I've seen photos like this from him. My friend says that it's not his second time, that he sees it quite often. He also believes that he has this disorder but caught it early enough to deal with it.
That's frightening.
The person that owns the place in these photographs literally offered to "crawl into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of coffee".
The disorder has several names, from what I can tell: Squalor syndrome and Compulsive hoarding are the two most popular.
According to the February 2005 newsletter of the Mood Disorders Support Group of New York City, it's not quite so uncommon as one might think.
Associated with other mood disorders, such as anxiety, eating disorders, schizophrenia, dementia, mental retardation, autism and brain injury, the disorder can come about in people with absolutely no psychiatric history or illness of any kind.
How do you recognize a hoarder? A common feature of hoards includes piles of paper or newspapers, magazines, books, mail, notes, and lists. Some will have piles of old clothes, rotting food and stray animals. Research tells me that at it's worst, hoarders will have accumulations of both animal and human waste where it ought not to be, such as in the kitchen or on the bed.
Hoarding:
The two hoarders who have had incident to touch my life through my friend, are both elderly, socially isolated and suspicious. This most recent one, whose photos appears in this blog, refused entry to the home by anyone for over 13 years.
Like any other such disorder, hoarders only seek help when they hit bottom or when the hoarding is discovered by others. In other words, when a neighbour or a cop notices the smell or when the filth starts spilling out of the house into the yard.
In this latest case it was a sewer backup in the basement that forced the hoarder to call for help but in the earlier case my friend told me about, the hoarder asked for help after 15 years. As you can see by the pictures; 13 years of trash piles up quite heavily. Imagine how the other place looked when my friend went in to clean up.
I've come across warnings that say that simply cleaning out the clutter will not solve the problem. Sometimes this will create a worse problem and further isolate the hoarder and they just start hoarding again.
I've asked my friend if the first hoarder has gone back to hoarding. He tells me that they've moved into an apartment and their neice has taken care to get them a roommate/caretaker who ensures that the hoarding cannot continue. I don't know what will happen to this latest hoarder. Let's hope they can get the help they need. At 75 though, I'm not holding my breath.
If you know a hoarder, and I don't simply mean someone who won't pick up after themselves, I mean a hoarder, there are ways of helping them get help.
UOCHD offers the following suggestions (click on the link for the details of the text):
1. INFORM YOURSELF AND TRY TO UNDERSTAND.
2. DON'T FIGHT THE FIGHT FOR THEM. (iow, let them clean it up or you're wasting your time)
3. SHOW THEM THE OPTIONS AND THAT THERE IS HOPE.
It's like the old joke, how many psychiatrists does it take to change the lightbulb... and the answer is, Just one... but the lightbulb has really got to want to change.
Only it isn't a joke. It's real, very very very real.
Monday, June 13, 2005
On Rats and Hot Sauce
While researching the makers of a hot sauce called, get this, "Rat Sauce", I came upon Rat Sauce a website dedicated to everything rat related. This of course, is the instigator of this little we-blog. Rats and hot sauce... what more could one ask for?
Let me introduce you to the stars of masses of horror movies specifically designed to perpetuate the myth that rats are horrific critters deservous of naught but destruction.
Rats as animals have been blamed for the black plague and have been long vilified, and unfairly so, I might add. Were one to do their homework, they would learn that it wasn't the rat that caused or carried the plague, it was actually the Oriental Rat Flea which spread its horrific disease by taking advantage of the rat's mobility. But it's not like that... Rats make great pets; they really do.
Of course, I just know you're sitting there thinking, "What? You're nuts! A rat? Why would anyone in their right mind want a rat as a pet?"
And the answer is simple. They are fabulous pets.
They are very clean, (although I've heard that this can be a personality trait and that there are slob rats out there). They are exceptionally intelligent critters. They are fun to play with and much like a dog, they can be taught tricks and to play games with you and they will interact with you quite readily, especially once they think you're part of their pack.
Rats can fit through a hole no larger than a quarter. They are so agile, they can scale brick walls as though they had rungs. So athletic, they can swim half a mile, and tread water for three days. Their powerful jaws can gnaw pipes and cinder blocks with chisel teeth that exert an incredible 24,000 pounds per square inch. Rats have been known to survive being flushed down a toilet, and can even enter buildings through the toilet pipes, the list of their exploits and abilities is endless. Because of their neverending curiosity, search for food and ability to get at it, once found, they are considered to be one of the most destructive mammals that ever lived.
Watch out if you are going to breed rats, though, because, they are so prolific that a single mating pair can easily produce 15,000 descendants in a year. Not one to worry about breeding my pet, Ralph, was a solo rat. He lived alone on my dresser in a rat habitat, which is essentially a very large, elaborate hamster cage built entirely out of metal. He had a swing, a running wheel, (which he much preferred napping in to running in). He had an old ceramic boot, rescued from an aquarium that he used as his hidey hole and a margarine tub which he filled with shredded tissue as his bed. (When I cleaned his cage, I would give him an unopened box of tissue and he would shred this and arrange it just the way he liked it in the margarine tub.) It was quite something to watch.
As a personality, Ralph was really cool. I'd come in from school and he'd immediately jump up to say hello, hanging from the cage top by one paw, pawing at the latch with the other, until I brought him out to play. He was quite cuddly and loved to snuggle with me. He would give kisses and when I was puttering about he'd sit on my shoulders, his tail curling about my neck. He liked to nibble on sunflower seeds, (the hulls of which, he'd deliberately toss down my shirt). He also loved fresh vegetables especially sweet peppers, which makes me wonder, would he have enjoyed habaneros as much as I do? Some relationships end far too early -- sigh. One weekend at a party, Ralph discovered the pleasures of beer. After that he liked to get drunk and laze on my head. Sitting on my shoulder, he'd poke his snout between my lips and the bottle to suck the beer out of the bottle as I would pour it into my mouth. I loved how that grossed some people out! Come to think of it, I wonder if Ralph ever felt the hangovers that I experienced after those parties? You'll be pleased to know that, although I did at that age, Ralph never smoked. He would hide when I pulled out my lighter. Either he didn't like the flash of its lighting up or he was afraid I'd singe his whiskers; which were suprisingly long.
I really enjoyed my stint as a rat owner, and for someone looking for a new pet, rats are a wonderful option. So long as you can get past the stigma of the wonderful critter actually being a "rat". With 20/20 hindsight, I don't recommend getting one for the purposes of making them your drinking buddy. I think that as a species they have a tendency towards alcoholism; not to mention that their livers are much tinier than ours and they probably don't live so long as they could otherwise. What can I say, I was a wild and crazy kid who didn't know any better and who had no concept of my own mortality, never mind that of Ralph.
This:
is Beebop. Beebop appears to me to be a variegated satin rat. Beebop is very similar to Ralph. Beebop is just one of a large variety of pet rats that can be found at Rat Sauce.
Rat Sauce is run by a fellow named Matt, owner of Beebop and an entire Rat Pack! I only ever had one rat in my life so, I can hardly imagine what having a pack would be like; although I did have a slew of gerbils at one time; but in retrospect, comparatively, gerbils are dumb pets, not dumb in the sense of unintelligent, but dumb in the sense that if one didn't need them to feed their pet snakes, I've no reasonable idea why anyone would ever want one. That said, Matt has gone to great effort to introduce people to the joys of having these rodents as their pets and with contributions from other rat owners, his is a definite site to check out in the event that one is looking for a new pet that is out of the ordinary.
Rat Sauce includes sources for the animal, games and toys that will appeal to our little rodent friends as well as referrals for qualified vets and a forum to discuss the joys and stresses of rat ownership with other rat owners.
I suppose I should throw in a caveat about rat ownership at this point. And that is, if you're going to delve into the ownership of a pet rat, don't do it with the wild rattus rattus that your uncle caught rummaging through his pantry. Wild rats are prone to bacterium and disease; read "Oriental Rat Fleas!" and thus are not meant to be domesticated. Instead, see a professional breeder or at the very least, a quality pet store; one that will guarantee their animals. Rat Sauce has links to breeders all over North America and beyond.
Get a rat. You'll be pleasantly surprised; not to mention the fact that they're great fun to have at parties.
Let me introduce you to the stars of masses of horror movies specifically designed to perpetuate the myth that rats are horrific critters deservous of naught but destruction.
Rats as animals have been blamed for the black plague and have been long vilified, and unfairly so, I might add. Were one to do their homework, they would learn that it wasn't the rat that caused or carried the plague, it was actually the Oriental Rat Flea which spread its horrific disease by taking advantage of the rat's mobility. But it's not like that... Rats make great pets; they really do.
Of course, I just know you're sitting there thinking, "What? You're nuts! A rat? Why would anyone in their right mind want a rat as a pet?"
And the answer is simple. They are fabulous pets.
They are very clean, (although I've heard that this can be a personality trait and that there are slob rats out there). They are exceptionally intelligent critters. They are fun to play with and much like a dog, they can be taught tricks and to play games with you and they will interact with you quite readily, especially once they think you're part of their pack.
Rats can fit through a hole no larger than a quarter. They are so agile, they can scale brick walls as though they had rungs. So athletic, they can swim half a mile, and tread water for three days. Their powerful jaws can gnaw pipes and cinder blocks with chisel teeth that exert an incredible 24,000 pounds per square inch. Rats have been known to survive being flushed down a toilet, and can even enter buildings through the toilet pipes, the list of their exploits and abilities is endless. Because of their neverending curiosity, search for food and ability to get at it, once found, they are considered to be one of the most destructive mammals that ever lived.
Watch out if you are going to breed rats, though, because, they are so prolific that a single mating pair can easily produce 15,000 descendants in a year. Not one to worry about breeding my pet, Ralph, was a solo rat. He lived alone on my dresser in a rat habitat, which is essentially a very large, elaborate hamster cage built entirely out of metal. He had a swing, a running wheel, (which he much preferred napping in to running in). He had an old ceramic boot, rescued from an aquarium that he used as his hidey hole and a margarine tub which he filled with shredded tissue as his bed. (When I cleaned his cage, I would give him an unopened box of tissue and he would shred this and arrange it just the way he liked it in the margarine tub.) It was quite something to watch.
As a personality, Ralph was really cool. I'd come in from school and he'd immediately jump up to say hello, hanging from the cage top by one paw, pawing at the latch with the other, until I brought him out to play. He was quite cuddly and loved to snuggle with me. He would give kisses and when I was puttering about he'd sit on my shoulders, his tail curling about my neck. He liked to nibble on sunflower seeds, (the hulls of which, he'd deliberately toss down my shirt). He also loved fresh vegetables especially sweet peppers, which makes me wonder, would he have enjoyed habaneros as much as I do? Some relationships end far too early -- sigh. One weekend at a party, Ralph discovered the pleasures of beer. After that he liked to get drunk and laze on my head. Sitting on my shoulder, he'd poke his snout between my lips and the bottle to suck the beer out of the bottle as I would pour it into my mouth. I loved how that grossed some people out! Come to think of it, I wonder if Ralph ever felt the hangovers that I experienced after those parties? You'll be pleased to know that, although I did at that age, Ralph never smoked. He would hide when I pulled out my lighter. Either he didn't like the flash of its lighting up or he was afraid I'd singe his whiskers; which were suprisingly long.
I really enjoyed my stint as a rat owner, and for someone looking for a new pet, rats are a wonderful option. So long as you can get past the stigma of the wonderful critter actually being a "rat". With 20/20 hindsight, I don't recommend getting one for the purposes of making them your drinking buddy. I think that as a species they have a tendency towards alcoholism; not to mention that their livers are much tinier than ours and they probably don't live so long as they could otherwise. What can I say, I was a wild and crazy kid who didn't know any better and who had no concept of my own mortality, never mind that of Ralph.
This:
is Beebop. Beebop appears to me to be a variegated satin rat. Beebop is very similar to Ralph. Beebop is just one of a large variety of pet rats that can be found at Rat Sauce.
Rat Sauce is run by a fellow named Matt, owner of Beebop and an entire Rat Pack! I only ever had one rat in my life so, I can hardly imagine what having a pack would be like; although I did have a slew of gerbils at one time; but in retrospect, comparatively, gerbils are dumb pets, not dumb in the sense of unintelligent, but dumb in the sense that if one didn't need them to feed their pet snakes, I've no reasonable idea why anyone would ever want one. That said, Matt has gone to great effort to introduce people to the joys of having these rodents as their pets and with contributions from other rat owners, his is a definite site to check out in the event that one is looking for a new pet that is out of the ordinary.
Rat Sauce includes sources for the animal, games and toys that will appeal to our little rodent friends as well as referrals for qualified vets and a forum to discuss the joys and stresses of rat ownership with other rat owners.
I suppose I should throw in a caveat about rat ownership at this point. And that is, if you're going to delve into the ownership of a pet rat, don't do it with the wild rattus rattus that your uncle caught rummaging through his pantry. Wild rats are prone to bacterium and disease; read "Oriental Rat Fleas!" and thus are not meant to be domesticated. Instead, see a professional breeder or at the very least, a quality pet store; one that will guarantee their animals. Rat Sauce has links to breeders all over North America and beyond.
Get a rat. You'll be pleasantly surprised; not to mention the fact that they're great fun to have at parties.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Humans are Pack Animals too.
When I was 8, my parents rescued a puppy and brought her home. She was a ginger and white coloured, floppy-earded dog with a beagle-like appearance. We named her Sandy. She was a mutt and I loved her. She had this weird behaviour when it came to milk bones. She'd bury them. The only thing wrong with that, is that she'd bury them in the house while we watched. I don't know if she wasn't too bright herself or if she simply thought that we weren't too bright. She'd take the milk bone, crawl underneath the tv cart and in full view of anyone watching tv, she'd pretend to dig a hole in the carpet, drop the milk bone into the imaginary hole and then kick imaginary dirt into the hole.
Sometimes, if she were feeling coy, I suppose, she'd take the milk bones and disappear with them; down the hallway to my parents' room. There, she'd pull the bedspread from my mother's pillow, shove the milk bone underneath and then attempt to pull the spread back into place. It ticked me off; she made bed better than I could.
I liked taking her for walks with my friend Cathy. Cathy had a dog named Ginger who was also a ginger and white coloured, floppy-eared dog with a beagle-like appearance. Except that Ginger was short and fat and always had something hanging from her teats... Professional puppy maker, that dog. And she thought Sandy was her spawn; and maybe Sandy was, because Sandy behaved just as if Ginger were her mother.
One day as I stepped out my front door, to take Sandy for a walk, the neighbour across the street let out his doberman pinscher puppy; which saw or smelled Sandy and made a bee-line for her. She went for Sandy and Ginger intervened. Ginger went straight for the jugular on that dobie. Which was really surprising because Ginger was less than half the size of the doberman. It took three of us to get the dogs off of each other and Ginger had gotten the worst of it, by far. But the doberman was going to think twice about going after one of Ginger's offspring again; that's for sure.
I went away on a trip and when I came home, my Dad took me into the living room and sat me on his lap. It was then he told me that Sandy had been killed in an accident. She'd been hit by Cathy's older sister's new motorcycle.
They say that losing a pet is like losing a child. I was just a kid when I lost Sandy, but as an adult I have lost another puppy this time to a fire, and although I've never lost a child, (in contrast to occasionally wanting to lose one or four), I imagine it certainly is at least as intense a feeling.
The relationship between people and their animals is one of companionship. One of love, of mutual need and respect and certainly one that truly epitomizes the concept of family. Ok, I suppose that a snapping turtle, which lots of people keep as pets, aren't about to cuddle up with you and lay their head on the pillow beside yours to sleep, still, they have a relationship with the people they interact with.
I've met enormous parrots with vocabularies that will put more than a few five year olds to shame. I've dealt with snakes who know their handlers by smell and are oddly friendly to them. I've held a mynah bird that calls its owner "Mommy". I've seen domesticated cats, dogs, chickens, iguanas and parrots interact as if they were all the same species. I personally, single-handedly populated Richmond, BC with gerbils that the current residents of the island simply believe are field mice and I've taught a pet rat named Ralph to drink beer and sit on my head.
Our pets listen to our troubles when we are sad and share our joys when we are happy and there is no better tribute to our domesticated pals than a website dedicated to loving our critter friends.
Now I must admit that so far, Petlvr.com [The Blog] has been primarily concentrating on standard animals; You know, cats, dogs and dolphins. From what I can glean from the blog, Hart and Yvonne are the proud family of two papillons, Maxie and Sophie and a cat named Zeus.
Personally, you couldn't pay me to have a cat. Not half because Greg and at least one child are allergic, but because I've only ever met one cat that was worth allowing to breathe my air and I believe that cat thought it was a dog. I like to joke that cat's would make a great fricasee, but sometimes when I get hungry, I look longingly at the neighbour's cat and my mouth waters.
Pet lovers will find some useful information and key resources at Petlvr.com [The Blog]. And you'll find a slew of photos of really cute baby animals. This one:
reminds me of a much older (read grayer) Ralph.
And this one:
reminds me of how I feel everytime I think about losing my webmaster.
Sometimes, if she were feeling coy, I suppose, she'd take the milk bones and disappear with them; down the hallway to my parents' room. There, she'd pull the bedspread from my mother's pillow, shove the milk bone underneath and then attempt to pull the spread back into place. It ticked me off; she made bed better than I could.
I liked taking her for walks with my friend Cathy. Cathy had a dog named Ginger who was also a ginger and white coloured, floppy-eared dog with a beagle-like appearance. Except that Ginger was short and fat and always had something hanging from her teats... Professional puppy maker, that dog. And she thought Sandy was her spawn; and maybe Sandy was, because Sandy behaved just as if Ginger were her mother.
One day as I stepped out my front door, to take Sandy for a walk, the neighbour across the street let out his doberman pinscher puppy; which saw or smelled Sandy and made a bee-line for her. She went for Sandy and Ginger intervened. Ginger went straight for the jugular on that dobie. Which was really surprising because Ginger was less than half the size of the doberman. It took three of us to get the dogs off of each other and Ginger had gotten the worst of it, by far. But the doberman was going to think twice about going after one of Ginger's offspring again; that's for sure.
I went away on a trip and when I came home, my Dad took me into the living room and sat me on his lap. It was then he told me that Sandy had been killed in an accident. She'd been hit by Cathy's older sister's new motorcycle.
They say that losing a pet is like losing a child. I was just a kid when I lost Sandy, but as an adult I have lost another puppy this time to a fire, and although I've never lost a child, (in contrast to occasionally wanting to lose one or four), I imagine it certainly is at least as intense a feeling.
The relationship between people and their animals is one of companionship. One of love, of mutual need and respect and certainly one that truly epitomizes the concept of family. Ok, I suppose that a snapping turtle, which lots of people keep as pets, aren't about to cuddle up with you and lay their head on the pillow beside yours to sleep, still, they have a relationship with the people they interact with.
I've met enormous parrots with vocabularies that will put more than a few five year olds to shame. I've dealt with snakes who know their handlers by smell and are oddly friendly to them. I've held a mynah bird that calls its owner "Mommy". I've seen domesticated cats, dogs, chickens, iguanas and parrots interact as if they were all the same species. I personally, single-handedly populated Richmond, BC with gerbils that the current residents of the island simply believe are field mice and I've taught a pet rat named Ralph to drink beer and sit on my head.
Our pets listen to our troubles when we are sad and share our joys when we are happy and there is no better tribute to our domesticated pals than a website dedicated to loving our critter friends.
Now I must admit that so far, Petlvr.com [The Blog] has been primarily concentrating on standard animals; You know, cats, dogs and dolphins. From what I can glean from the blog, Hart and Yvonne are the proud family of two papillons, Maxie and Sophie and a cat named Zeus.
Personally, you couldn't pay me to have a cat. Not half because Greg and at least one child are allergic, but because I've only ever met one cat that was worth allowing to breathe my air and I believe that cat thought it was a dog. I like to joke that cat's would make a great fricasee, but sometimes when I get hungry, I look longingly at the neighbour's cat and my mouth waters.
Pet lovers will find some useful information and key resources at Petlvr.com [The Blog]. And you'll find a slew of photos of really cute baby animals. This one:
reminds me of a much older (read grayer) Ralph.
And this one:
reminds me of how I feel everytime I think about losing my webmaster.
The Much Awaited Chili Pepper Post!
You asked for it; you got it...
Robb Walsh of the Austin Chronicle, in 1991, called it the Chile Pepper Counterculture... Nevermind the fact that Robb Walsh hasn't the slightest clue that Chile is a country in South America and what we eat are called Chilies. According to the concept that Walsh's article created back then, we're a bunch of junkies tripping through life with nothing better to do than get to our next fix. He likened chili peppers to psychotropic drugs, such as peyote, coca (as in cocaine) and tobacco; is that why some chiliheads cough; wink, wink.
Apparently some "experimental psychologist" believes that we chili addicts are "hooked" on endorphins and that we get "strung out".
Right on man, Timothy Leary move over.
I like the burn. The fact that the burn is firing endorphins in my system, makes me feel good, and feeling good is, well... it can't be a bad thing, can it?
Accordingly, in all the times I've ever eaten hot peppers, whereas I've gone through mega-mouth burn. I have never had my thought processes interrupted by simply biting into a pepper. Whereas I have been in so much pain, I've been jumping up and down, I have never been "overwhelmed". And although I get a comfortable good-timey feeling (good-timey? Is that a word??) while my mouth is burning, I don't think I've ever really truly experienced a "rush" or gotten "stoned" or even mildly "buzzed"; Not fair... the only legal stone in the world besides alcohol; which btw is a depressant; and I don't get stoned.
Maybe I'm just immune to endorphins??
Speaking of immunity (How's that for a segue?)... On Sunday, we set up shop at the Ste. Eustache Flea Market. (Ya... like that will ever happen again.) And we watched as chiliheads cravingly looked at our sauces like maybe there was something wrong with them and that's why we were there. A couple of them braved the depths of degradation that was our booth at a flea market (did I say "never again"?) and actually bought little mini-jars to take home. But after four hours, only one real true chilihead did the; eyes lit up pre-endorphin rush approach to our booth...
"Are they hot"?
"Oh, yes"
"How hot?"
"Well...."
"Because, I ate this one sauce called Da Bomb and I like that."
"Ah, I see, well, we only use natural peppers, but they're still hot."
"Yeah... gimme a taste"
I open the jar of hurricane, scoop out a largish quantity, and hand it to him. He pops the 90% pure peppers into his mouth, chews, reflects thoughtfully then mockingly says...
"You've got to be kidding."
Obviously capsaicin sensitive... Not! He didn't cough, or sneeze, or blush but he spun in a circle with a tear in his eye and turned back to us. At which point, I'm thinking... yu huh.
"That's not hot." He says.
Now, he's just being rude... And ya know, I can't for the life of me figure out why. Ego? Machissimo?
Greg says to him; "Well, we only use natural peppers, so you're not going to get the same heat as you can with chemically extracted oleoresins." Of course you aren't; we don't call Greg the Peppermaster for no good reason.
Then Mr. Chilihead realizes that his fiancee has left him and he mentions her.
"Oh," I suggested, "why don't we bring your fiancee over here and have her taste it, I wonder if SHE'LL think it's hot?"
"Oh, she can't eat that, it'd kill her." he says.
How stupid can a person be? It's not hot, but it will kill his fiancee.
Colour me impressed. Not.
Robb Walsh of the Austin Chronicle, in 1991, called it the Chile Pepper Counterculture... Nevermind the fact that Robb Walsh hasn't the slightest clue that Chile is a country in South America and what we eat are called Chilies. According to the concept that Walsh's article created back then, we're a bunch of junkies tripping through life with nothing better to do than get to our next fix. He likened chili peppers to psychotropic drugs, such as peyote, coca (as in cocaine) and tobacco; is that why some chiliheads cough; wink, wink.
Apparently some "experimental psychologist" believes that we chili addicts are "hooked" on endorphins and that we get "strung out".
Right on man, Timothy Leary move over.
I like the burn. The fact that the burn is firing endorphins in my system, makes me feel good, and feeling good is, well... it can't be a bad thing, can it?
Accordingly, in all the times I've ever eaten hot peppers, whereas I've gone through mega-mouth burn. I have never had my thought processes interrupted by simply biting into a pepper. Whereas I have been in so much pain, I've been jumping up and down, I have never been "overwhelmed". And although I get a comfortable good-timey feeling (good-timey? Is that a word??) while my mouth is burning, I don't think I've ever really truly experienced a "rush" or gotten "stoned" or even mildly "buzzed"; Not fair... the only legal stone in the world besides alcohol; which btw is a depressant; and I don't get stoned.
Maybe I'm just immune to endorphins??
Speaking of immunity (How's that for a segue?)... On Sunday, we set up shop at the Ste. Eustache Flea Market. (Ya... like that will ever happen again.) And we watched as chiliheads cravingly looked at our sauces like maybe there was something wrong with them and that's why we were there. A couple of them braved the depths of degradation that was our booth at a flea market (did I say "never again"?) and actually bought little mini-jars to take home. But after four hours, only one real true chilihead did the; eyes lit up pre-endorphin rush approach to our booth...
"Are they hot"?
"Oh, yes"
"How hot?"
"Well...."
"Because, I ate this one sauce called Da Bomb and I like that."
"Ah, I see, well, we only use natural peppers, but they're still hot."
"Yeah... gimme a taste"
I open the jar of hurricane, scoop out a largish quantity, and hand it to him. He pops the 90% pure peppers into his mouth, chews, reflects thoughtfully then mockingly says...
"You've got to be kidding."
Obviously capsaicin sensitive... Not! He didn't cough, or sneeze, or blush but he spun in a circle with a tear in his eye and turned back to us. At which point, I'm thinking... yu huh.
"That's not hot." He says.
Now, he's just being rude... And ya know, I can't for the life of me figure out why. Ego? Machissimo?
Greg says to him; "Well, we only use natural peppers, so you're not going to get the same heat as you can with chemically extracted oleoresins." Of course you aren't; we don't call Greg the Peppermaster for no good reason.
Then Mr. Chilihead realizes that his fiancee has left him and he mentions her.
"Oh," I suggested, "why don't we bring your fiancee over here and have her taste it, I wonder if SHE'LL think it's hot?"
"Oh, she can't eat that, it'd kill her." he says.
How stupid can a person be? It's not hot, but it will kill his fiancee.
Colour me impressed. Not.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
I Guess I'm a Duck
I know, I know, I'm supposed to be writing a story about the one and only chilihead that actually came into our booth at the Ste. Eustache Flea Market on Sunday, but I just had to put the following thoughts down on paper... So, if you're still patiently awaiting my chilihead story... you'll have to wait another day... Sorry; I never suggested I was organized. That's FTS' thing. ;)
Some days I get it driven home to me in the weirdest ways how very, very important being a Unitarian is to me.
I grew up in a home where a deep personal sense of theology and a relationship with the universe and how I fit into it, was more important than how I perceived who or what God is. I was taught to seek my own personal relationship with God and that I would find that relationship within my own experiences. Or at least that was the end result of what I was taught. I don't think it was because Dad or Mom are particularly Unitarians, per se, but I think it was the end result of my Dad trying to figure out what he is.
Prayer is how I talk to God and that is something so ultimately personal to me that I really don't understand the concept of public prayer. Why would anyone want to do that? In the new testament, Matthew 6:5 to be precise, it says "And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward." I'm not even a Christian and that passage makes sense to me. But that's me... Matthew 6:6 is even more telling and it reads: "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."
Yeah, I know, those of you who know me really well are thinking "Who are you and what have you done with Tina?".
And now you want to know what happened to precipitate this blog, that's all weirdly religion-based and not at all about the hot pepper story I've been promising?
Well, I read a really well written blog today that technically was more about civil rights being unnecessarily protected for people who didn't deserve to have them protected, than it was about public prayer, but I was really riled internally as I read the bit that pertained to daily prayer in schools. My sensibilities reeled as I read that Tish, the blog-writer felt I was not sane because I didn't somehow believe that praying in school is a good thing. Well not ME personally, obviously, she has no idea who I am, but people who think like me. Why does not wanting to listen to someone's prayers in a public school setting cause such a personal affront to people? Do they not understand that maybe, just maybe, their religion isn't someone else's; isn't mine?
Well, for what it's worth, I'm perfectly sane.
I simply understand and acknowledge that not everyone in the world is a Christian or has a KJV Bible-based religion at the core of their being. How can I help but not acknowledge it. I'm a Unitarian. But I find it odd that Christians don't know that passage but get all riled up about how prayer in school is a good thing... Am I missing something?
Being a Unitarian, I live in a world of a multitude of religions. We are comprised of Jews and Muslims, Christians and Atheists, we have Wicce and Pagans and Sikhs and Catholics and Druids, well, you get the idea. We come from all walks of life and somehow manage to know and understand that we are all part of this great interwoven tapestry that makes up this world that we live in. And as interwoven Unitarians, we strive to learn and understand what makes each of us tick theologically, and we work to avoid stepping on each others' toes so that in essence; we all become a community blessed and more important than the sum total of each of our own comprehension (or lack thereof) of God.
When folks ask me what a Unitarian is, I like to joke that we're the ones who begin our prayers with "To whom it may concern".
But you know what I've come to learn and understand about Unitarianism above and beyond any other "true" religion that I've so far had the honour of examining?
As a Unitarian, I've never been asked to park my brain at the door. In fact, I've often been challenged and forced to use my brain in order to embrace my other fellow Unitarians.
And from what I understand of public prayer... it deliberately doesn't embrace anyone who isn't of that religion and deliberately, without a care, has the ability to affront the religious and theological sensibilities of those who aren't of that religion. And really, any Christian who says to me that they're all for public prayer in school, that there is nothing wrong with it... Well, let's just say that there is more than one oxymoron in the Bible and New Testament.
Separation of Church and State.
It's necessary.
Tomorrow... Hot peppers; I promise.
Some days I get it driven home to me in the weirdest ways how very, very important being a Unitarian is to me.
I grew up in a home where a deep personal sense of theology and a relationship with the universe and how I fit into it, was more important than how I perceived who or what God is. I was taught to seek my own personal relationship with God and that I would find that relationship within my own experiences. Or at least that was the end result of what I was taught. I don't think it was because Dad or Mom are particularly Unitarians, per se, but I think it was the end result of my Dad trying to figure out what he is.
Prayer is how I talk to God and that is something so ultimately personal to me that I really don't understand the concept of public prayer. Why would anyone want to do that? In the new testament, Matthew 6:5 to be precise, it says "And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward." I'm not even a Christian and that passage makes sense to me. But that's me... Matthew 6:6 is even more telling and it reads: "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."
Yeah, I know, those of you who know me really well are thinking "Who are you and what have you done with Tina?".
And now you want to know what happened to precipitate this blog, that's all weirdly religion-based and not at all about the hot pepper story I've been promising?
Well, I read a really well written blog today that technically was more about civil rights being unnecessarily protected for people who didn't deserve to have them protected, than it was about public prayer, but I was really riled internally as I read the bit that pertained to daily prayer in schools. My sensibilities reeled as I read that Tish, the blog-writer felt I was not sane because I didn't somehow believe that praying in school is a good thing. Well not ME personally, obviously, she has no idea who I am, but people who think like me. Why does not wanting to listen to someone's prayers in a public school setting cause such a personal affront to people? Do they not understand that maybe, just maybe, their religion isn't someone else's; isn't mine?
Well, for what it's worth, I'm perfectly sane.
I simply understand and acknowledge that not everyone in the world is a Christian or has a KJV Bible-based religion at the core of their being. How can I help but not acknowledge it. I'm a Unitarian. But I find it odd that Christians don't know that passage but get all riled up about how prayer in school is a good thing... Am I missing something?
Being a Unitarian, I live in a world of a multitude of religions. We are comprised of Jews and Muslims, Christians and Atheists, we have Wicce and Pagans and Sikhs and Catholics and Druids, well, you get the idea. We come from all walks of life and somehow manage to know and understand that we are all part of this great interwoven tapestry that makes up this world that we live in. And as interwoven Unitarians, we strive to learn and understand what makes each of us tick theologically, and we work to avoid stepping on each others' toes so that in essence; we all become a community blessed and more important than the sum total of each of our own comprehension (or lack thereof) of God.
When folks ask me what a Unitarian is, I like to joke that we're the ones who begin our prayers with "To whom it may concern".
But you know what I've come to learn and understand about Unitarianism above and beyond any other "true" religion that I've so far had the honour of examining?
As a Unitarian, I've never been asked to park my brain at the door. In fact, I've often been challenged and forced to use my brain in order to embrace my other fellow Unitarians.
And from what I understand of public prayer... it deliberately doesn't embrace anyone who isn't of that religion and deliberately, without a care, has the ability to affront the religious and theological sensibilities of those who aren't of that religion. And really, any Christian who says to me that they're all for public prayer in school, that there is nothing wrong with it... Well, let's just say that there is more than one oxymoron in the Bible and New Testament.
Separation of Church and State.
It's necessary.
Tomorrow... Hot peppers; I promise.
The Underground Railroad
The term "underground railroad" became best known for helping persecuted nations of people secretly escape their persecutors.
In the mid nineteenth century abolitionists ran the secret underground railroad helping slaves escape their bondage, running north to freedom in Canada.
In the mid twentieth century an underground railroad ran in Western Europe, helping Jews, intellectuals, gays and others escape persecution from the Nazis.
But between 1965 and 1973, over 50,000 Americans used a secret underground railroad to flee North to Canada from the United States, to escape the draft. Avoiding what they felt was an unjust war, the conscientious objectors were welcomed with open arms to a Canada that felt it should be a haven from militarism. And indeed one hopes that Canada is still that.
Today the Underground Railroad again runs from the United States into Canada, but it's not persecution or a draft that the passengers are fleeing, but death in an unjust war.
Jeremy Hinzman, a soldier in the 82nd Airborne Division and Brandon Hughey, another American soldier, are seeking refugee status in Canada in the hopes of avoiding extradition to a country that will probably incarcerate them but could put them to death for not wanting to fight in Iraq.
Mr. Hinzman has lost his initial plea for refugee status but his case will go before the higher court of appeals before he is sent back to the US.
On May 27th a press conference was held in the Trinity Street Church in Toronto bringing light to a question that many of us have not considered. As a nation Canada refused to participate in the war on Iraq because we felt it unjust. We, therefore, need to stand up and protect those who come to Canada hoping to escape the war and allow them refuge from persecution, as we did during Vietnam.
The War Resisters Support Campaign is circulating a petition asking the Canadian Government to live up to it's belief that the war on Iraq is wrong and therefore grant sanctuary to US war objectors.
The list of signatories to the petion is quite impressive.
As of the writing of this blog, the petition held 11,783 total signatures, one of which is mine and weirdly enough, one, #11,657 to be precise, belongs to one Mr. Paul Martin of Ottawa who states his Professional Affiliation as Canada Prime Minister.
Another; #11483 is Jan Wells of Alabama USA who wrote: My brother is in Iraq; 10th Mountain Division, #10843 is Jeff Doran of West La Have, Nova Scotia, a 1970 Conscientious Objector and #123, is Mr. Robert Weiss of Loxahatchee, Fl who wrote: Bush Lied & Our Soldiers Continue to Die.
It's already been proven that Bush and his Government lied in order to invade Iraq, and even though the American people decided in their last elections to allow their Government to continue the Iraq invasion, we as a sovereign nation, must in all conscience allow anyone who disagrees with their Government, the ability to object.
Read the War Resisters Support Campaign Petition written by Michelle Robidoux of War Resisters and if you agree. Please sign it.
And if you are American and are required to register for selective service or are of draft age and you are afraid that your Nation will reinstitute the draft, then this article, Conscientious Objection and Iraq by Joseph Wakelee-Lynch is required reading.
And yet another blog goes by with no mention of hot peppers... What is wrong with me???
In the mid nineteenth century abolitionists ran the secret underground railroad helping slaves escape their bondage, running north to freedom in Canada.
In the mid twentieth century an underground railroad ran in Western Europe, helping Jews, intellectuals, gays and others escape persecution from the Nazis.
But between 1965 and 1973, over 50,000 Americans used a secret underground railroad to flee North to Canada from the United States, to escape the draft. Avoiding what they felt was an unjust war, the conscientious objectors were welcomed with open arms to a Canada that felt it should be a haven from militarism. And indeed one hopes that Canada is still that.
Today the Underground Railroad again runs from the United States into Canada, but it's not persecution or a draft that the passengers are fleeing, but death in an unjust war.
Jeremy Hinzman, a soldier in the 82nd Airborne Division and Brandon Hughey, another American soldier, are seeking refugee status in Canada in the hopes of avoiding extradition to a country that will probably incarcerate them but could put them to death for not wanting to fight in Iraq.
Mr. Hinzman has lost his initial plea for refugee status but his case will go before the higher court of appeals before he is sent back to the US.
On May 27th a press conference was held in the Trinity Street Church in Toronto bringing light to a question that many of us have not considered. As a nation Canada refused to participate in the war on Iraq because we felt it unjust. We, therefore, need to stand up and protect those who come to Canada hoping to escape the war and allow them refuge from persecution, as we did during Vietnam.
The War Resisters Support Campaign is circulating a petition asking the Canadian Government to live up to it's belief that the war on Iraq is wrong and therefore grant sanctuary to US war objectors.
The list of signatories to the petion is quite impressive.
As of the writing of this blog, the petition held 11,783 total signatures, one of which is mine and weirdly enough, one, #11,657 to be precise, belongs to one Mr. Paul Martin of Ottawa who states his Professional Affiliation as Canada Prime Minister.
Another; #11483 is Jan Wells of Alabama USA who wrote: My brother is in Iraq; 10th Mountain Division, #10843 is Jeff Doran of West La Have, Nova Scotia, a 1970 Conscientious Objector and #123, is Mr. Robert Weiss of Loxahatchee, Fl who wrote: Bush Lied & Our Soldiers Continue to Die.
It's already been proven that Bush and his Government lied in order to invade Iraq, and even though the American people decided in their last elections to allow their Government to continue the Iraq invasion, we as a sovereign nation, must in all conscience allow anyone who disagrees with their Government, the ability to object.
Read the War Resisters Support Campaign Petition written by Michelle Robidoux of War Resisters and if you agree. Please sign it.
And if you are American and are required to register for selective service or are of draft age and you are afraid that your Nation will reinstitute the draft, then this article, Conscientious Objection and Iraq by Joseph Wakelee-Lynch is required reading.
And yet another blog goes by with no mention of hot peppers... What is wrong with me???
Monday, June 06, 2005
What You Really Need in Business but are Afraid to Ask...
Number one... Webmaster. Grrrrr
Number two... An accountant. Grrrr, double Grrrrr.
Now don't get me wrong, here. Our accountant is a sweetheart, an absolute doll. I just love him to pieces.
We gave him the account books in March... He told us that we'd be pressed because of tax season, and would have to wait until he finished all of those, but, he's still not finished the books and now it's June! Grrrrr
Here's Greg on the phone with him now, working on last August... what is the matter with these two?
It used to be simple... One ledger, balance sheet tax return... Who in God's name thought it was a good idea to automate this stuff?? There oughta be a law against Quickbooks.
I've got a great story about peppers, but I'm just too annoyed to post it right now... Grrrr
Number two... An accountant. Grrrr, double Grrrrr.
Now don't get me wrong, here. Our accountant is a sweetheart, an absolute doll. I just love him to pieces.
We gave him the account books in March... He told us that we'd be pressed because of tax season, and would have to wait until he finished all of those, but, he's still not finished the books and now it's June! Grrrrr
Here's Greg on the phone with him now, working on last August... what is the matter with these two?
It used to be simple... One ledger, balance sheet tax return... Who in God's name thought it was a good idea to automate this stuff?? There oughta be a law against Quickbooks.
I've got a great story about peppers, but I'm just too annoyed to post it right now... Grrrr
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