Who goes there? Please leave comments so (An Aries Knows)!
I haven’t been very lucky lately in catching Old Faithful at the right time for eruptions. However, I just went there to check on the temperature. It’s like Opposite World! It’s always colder at Yellowstone than anywhere. But now, while all of y’all are freezing, it’s a balmy fifty degrees there. Enough to lure the buffalo into roaming… or at least sunbathing.
I was reading everyone else’s witty posts and comments when it occurred to me that I’ve done nothing for days but post photos or memes or other insubstantial things (other than my regret that Molly Ivins died). I could use my work as an excuse for being a lazy LiveJournaler, but I think the responsibility actually lies with Famous Author Rob Byrnes.
FARB hasn’t blogged anything since last Sunday–a sort of unannounced hiatus–and as you may recall, when FARB takes a break, I sulk and wilt and otherwise act like a three-year-old in need of a nap. You know, the kind that gets her family kicked off of flights to Boston. (If in fact, I flew at all, much less to Boston.)
However, I think I figured out a way to draw him out if for no other reason than to chide me for a food post. I will NOT BE IGNORED, FARB!
Occasionally, Tom’s employer offers fishing trips southward on the Gulf for various employees. He always brings back a mess of fish. I’m not crazy about fish, but I eat it because it’s supposed to be good for you and it’s low in calories. Whatever.
Friday I thawed redfish from his last fishing jaunt. I looked at redfish recipes online and modified them based on ingredients I had in my kitchen. Okay, truthfully? I found one that used bacon. There’s no time that bacon is not enticing to me–and so much for that whole healthy fish thing, right?
Here are photos of the fish before it went into the oven, and photos of it on the plate, cooked, with fresh, steamed broccoli crowns, corn on the cob, and salad. That’s good eatin’.
Oh. Tom informed me it wasn’t redfish at all. It was saltwater trout. Unless you’re Hemingway, who cares? It was smothered in tasty bacon. It must have turned out okay, because the two pieces that were left over? Someone made off with them to the TimLair, and it wasn’t Rexford G. Lambert.
food photos!
Tom and I cracked up at Rutlie in his Harley cap. Tom dug out a photo of our late dachshund Pete from The Compound archives for you to see. Ten-pound Pete thought he was Rutlie’s size and he was a total badass. His bite was entirely as bad as his bark unless you were part of his pack. Not many of us were.
Back when Timmy was writing with us, whenever Kensington sent us anything, he always got it first because he was in New York. Then a day or so later, Tim and I would get our mail, and Jim, in California, would always trail behind us by a day or two.
This meant Timmy was usually the one who saw a cover first or got a contract or a royalty check first, and we would torment him for every detail.
Today, in a strange reversal, JIM GOT SOMETHING FIRST. And it was something I was desperate to see, so I harangued him until he agreed to scan it. Then his scanner wasn’t working. So, in spite of what he says about having a lump of coal where his heart should be, he took a photo of it and sent it to Tim and me.
And now I share it with you, because I LOVE IT. Really love it. THANK YOU, Jim! And thank you, John and Kensington.
When we get our copies, Tim and/or I will post a better scan–with the back cover. And once our loyal TJB readers see the cover copy, the mystery of the narrator will be solved.
Reason 1,032,653 why a gay man is really a girl’s best friend:
click here for photos
Guinness, who came to us six years ago this month.
It seems like the last twelve months raced past, but the way Tim misses River meant long, difficult months for him. That’s what makes it even more generous that Tim opened his home and heart to Rex.
It wouldn’t have surprised River at all, of course, as he well knew the best of Tim.
