The Toucan

The following post has nothing to do food, but it is too good not to share. xoH

This past Friday night was Dead Writer's Night, my one responsibility as English Graduate Student Associate Master's Student Vice President (say that ten times fast).  Folks were invited to read a piece from their favorite deceased author.  We ate yummy Thai appetizers, as the event was held on the patio of the local Thai restaurant and enjoyed the calm October evening.

While most students took the event seriously and read pieces that were either Halloween-themed or spooky in nature, I, on the other hand, wore my Halloween costume and read a piece by one of my favorite dead writers.  When I finished reading my brief poem, the one child in the crowd yelled, "I love that poem!"  Made my whole day.

The Toucan

by Shel Silverstein

Tell me who can 

Catch a Toucan?

Lou can.

Just how few can 

Ride the Toucan?

Two can.

What kind of goo

Can you stick to the Toucan?

Glue can.

Who can write some

More about the Toucan?

You can!

Confirmation: Zicam has not stolen my taste buds

Good morning. I have something idiotic to share with you this fine September morn. Something that is so quintessentially Hailey I could not let it go unposted.

Notice a similarity between these two containers?

Both share similar packaging and coloring. One is negligibly taller than the other, but otherwise these two containers look relatively identical. Yes? Am I correct in this observation?

These two containers hold very different products. Both are liquid. Both are tasty. One belongs in my coffee and one DOES NOT:

Can you guess which one I poured into my coffee without realizing my mistake and TOOK A SIP again without realizing my coffee hadn't really changed into the desired warm hue?

Two things: Zicam has not stolen my taste buds. Coffee spiked with chicken broth tastes like arse. Second: my abs are so sore from sneezing so much yesterday that I let out an audible yelp the last time I let out an "hachu." My Idaho History classmates are going to love me today.

A confession . . . and then FIRE in the sky

I have something to admit to you all; something for which I am not proud; something for which I am certain you will all judge and shun me. I have developed an unhealthy obsession to a certain evil empire's iced coffee. No, not Starbucks. The worst of the worst: McDonald's.

As Mike Myers says in So I Married an Ax Murderer, they put "an addictive chemical in [it] that makes ya crave it fortnightly, smartass." As one of my girl friends has fittingly claimed, they might put a little dose of crack in this coffee. It's SO good.

People, seriously, this coffee is perfection. I love my coffee. In fact, I get darn right grouchy if I don't have a large cup in my hands within moments of opening my little peepers. I would confidently say I am a coffee connoisseur. Those genius little machines they have over there at McD's have perfected the balance of cream, sugar and goodness all in a cup that rounds out to be $1.99 plus tax. Yes, ma'am, may I have another? Or four. Thanks.

I am sorry to disappoint those of you who don't condone the big M -- I know. I am an arse. Here is something beautiful to distract you from the evil above.

I snapped these photos from my private rooftop a few nights ago. Summer sunsets in Idaho are difficult to beat. Mom, I thought of you the entire time I was taking these photos. I love you very much - positive thoughts and energy coming your way. xoH

Instructions for the weekend: blow some stuff up for me!

I've posted lots of photos of my farm antics recently, but the other pastime that has stolen my attention has been fishing. My fishing gear gathered a fine layer of dust during my years in Utah, but my return to Idaho has restored my affection, plus I have a friend who graciously lets me tag along in his drift boat.

I wish I had more HUGE fish photos for you today, but I find myself taking photos of random items in the boat, grass, people's shirts. We do catch fish and photos are taken, but I'm not related to those people, and I can't exploit them on my site like I do my family. Thanks, family, for allowing me to exploit you. One day soon I'll post of a photo of me and an enormous fish. Until then, here are some randoms.

Have a great Fourth of July, all! Grill a yummy burger, drink a cold beverage and blow some stuff up for me! xoH

Token food photo.

Two days in a row I ate breakfast!

Internet, are you proud or what?

My ass is in revolt

After sitting in this chair for a week now I am reluctantly looking at this screen, but it's been a week, and I've missed Hail's Kitchen so! Oh to write FOR FUN. Feels quite strange actually.

Anyway, the last week has been fueled by this:

Sweet, sweet coffee. I love you more than I did before, if that is even possible. I did manage to cook a meal and not just consume caffeine the past seven days. You're not going to believe me when you see the photo.

Looks like good Indian takeout, eh? Friends, I made this three course dinner and it was RADICAL! I am sure the term radical is not one that floats loosely through foodie circles, but here at HK, I flagrantly throw out such terms, well, because it was RADICAL. I'll post the recipes soon. Promise.

I cannot be bothered to look at this screen any longer, nor can my ass sit in this chair a second more. People, I turned in a 38 page paper yesterday and a measly 13er today. My brain (and now my behind) are mush.

I have a date with a bottle of wine. I hope you have a RADICAL night. I plan to :) Missed you all! xo

Little victory

So I've been trying to post a most delectable short rib recipe for the past hour now, but google seems to be having some technical issue with their photo uploading function. I could get all disgruntled and huffy, but I am choosing to take a few deep breaths and distract with you my ramblings until google's wizards can fix my internal error. Mouth-watering, oh so tender, beef short ribs will follow soon. I hope.

The past 18 months or so have been an interesting ride for me. I basically took the puzzle pieces of my life, threw them up in the air and took a big step back to see where they would all land. Fortunately, most of the pieces landed softly, cradled by the awesome, loving people who envelope me.

Well, I reached a personal fitness/weight-loss goal today that I set for myself several months ago. As I left the gym, I realized I've lost way more than a few extra pounds. I've shed an enormous amount of shit that's been really heavy and hard to carry around. One of my favorite people transformed her body by losing almost fifty pounds, and she realized that the weight was equivalent to carrying around a bag of dog food. Imagine what that feels like! Granted my little milestone was nowhere near fifty pounds, but I feel like I've molted more than a few kibbles of Purina. I've shed a lot of guilt and resentment, which are two things you don't ask Santa to bring you for Christmas.

It's amazing what time (and lots of trail running) does for self-reflection. It's almost like someone removed a pair of beer goggles. I like the clarity.