Archive for the way back Category

Amphibious WW 2 Vehicles

Posted in cars, way back on August 17, 2010 by Nada

We went into the bay on a DUKW, an amphibious WW 2 vehicle, turned tourist vessel. Very cool. I love it when it converts from a land vehicle into a water vessel. This is a view from the seafaring version of the amphibious vehicle. It is an original WW 2 machine, made by women, or so our guide said. I can’t seem to confirm this part of the tour, but it seems about right. Something so ugly and yet so function. Lasting so long for no apparent reason other than to nag land and sea. Both.


Boneless Turkey Breast

Posted in food, way back, weather with tags on May 10, 2010 by Nada

It’s rainy and cold. Bah. I don’t think it crawled above 55 degrees today. I wish I had nickel for every time I complained about the weather. I wish I had a nickel for every time I said, “I wish I had a nickel.”

My stepdaughter and her husband are coming into town tomorrow. I’m supposed to be cleaning the house. Am I? No. Why? Because I have a procrastination gene that is not recessive. It’s dominant. I will probably get up at 6am and act like a whirling dervish with a vacuum and a dust rag. I need to paint the front door but I only came to that realization 45 minutes ago, and I have no paint, and it’s raining.

The Big Guy is making a fresh boneless turkey breast stuffed with dates, apricots, and spices along with homemade mashed potatoes for their first dinner. I’m in charge of desert. I’m serving Oreo Cakesters, the chocolate miniature 100 calorie packs. Everyone gets their own little pack. I’m trying to keep the dinner classy.

My cousin called me today to tell me the gate to the family farm in Nashville that got submerged and summarily shorted out will be $3500 to repair, and the insurance in that area is not paying for any flood damage. When I lived on the farm we had an old wire gate where the electronic gate is now. I called it chicken wire, though it wasn’t. The wire squares were too big for chickens. It was a dilapidated old gate, and scraped the ground when we opened or closed it.

We had another one like it where the drive forked to go to our house, and one day my mother was daydreaming as she drove up the driveway and ran over the gate. There was a bunch of slow mo scraping on the hood and undercarriage of the car and a lot of screaming by us kids. Mom kept la la-ing her way on up the driveway smoking her cigarette, pretending like it was the most normal thing in the world to run over a gate. The screaming was so out of hand at one point, Mom leaned over and calmly said, “Shut up.”