Have You Ever Gotten Caught in "Click Bait?"

 I got caught this morning wanting to know why I should put my potatoes in the dishwasher. 

Well, after clicking through about 50 other Kitchen hacks—pretty good ones, I finally found the one I wanted. You can wash your vegetables in the dishwasher. 

I knew that. Yeah, I’ve heard you can cook a turkey in the dishwasher too, but I’ve never tried that. 

I thought I would find some esoteric reason that the dishwasher would remove harmful substances from my potatoes. 

Nope. Just wash them. That’s a waste of hot water and electricity.

You see, I have a history with potatoes. 

Long-time readers may have read that I killed my two darling hens a few years ago by feeding them potato skins. (A potato peeling will never pass my current chicken’s lips.) 

It broke my heart to see my two hens, both dead, the morning after I prepared a Thanksgiving dinner, and thought I was giving them a treat to offer potato peelings. 

I’m saying this to tell people, “NEVER GIVE YOUR CHICKENS POTATO SKINS.”

I have not purchased a Russet potato since—although I probably have in a restaurant. And I do love potatoes, and I don’t want to malign them, for you know they have saved many a society. (And The Martian.). After my chicken trauma, though, I purchase only red-skinned ones. 

First, I heard that red potatoes are not sprayed, and I seek out organic. Besides, red ones taste better, and I’ve found they work well with everything I want to prepare, including mashed potatoes. Thanksgiving mashed potatoes and turkey gravy is my once-a-year indulgence.

It could have been a spray that killed my hens, for I just bought a prepared bag of commercial potatoes, and I don’t know their origin.  I suspect, though, that the Solanine tuberosum, a glycoalkaloid poison found in some species of the nightshade family, esp. abundant in potato skins, was the culprit.

Potato skins contain the same substance that poisoned Chris McCandless, the young man who went into the wilderness to live off the land and died there. (His diary stated he had eaten a poisonous plant.)

I know we have all eaten potatoes, and stuffed potato skins are delicious. If we suffered any side effects, we don’t know about them. People can tolerate larger amounts than can chickens/birds, and our potatoes are normally cooked which largely renders the poison harmless.  

Ronald Hamilton posted a paper on the Internet that brings new facts to Chris’s demise. Hamilton, it turns out, discovered evidence that closed the book on McCandless’s death.

To appreciate the brilliance of Hamilton’s investigative work, some backstory is helpful. 

McCandless’s diary indicated that beginning on June 24, 1992, the roots of the Hedysarum alpinum plant became a staple of his daily diet. On July 14, he started harvesting and eating Hedysarum alpinum seeds as well. One of his photos depicts a one-gallon Ziploc bag stuffed with these seeds. When Hamilton visited the McCandless’s home, an old school bus, in July 1993, he wrote that wild potato plants were growing everywhere. He filled a one-gallon bag with more than a pound of seeds in less than thirty minutes.

The movie, Into the Wild tells Chris’s story.

To end on a happy note: I never thought when I was growing up on a farm that chickens could be such fun. 

My dear son-in-law and grandson moved my little chicken house into the backyard. Hubby and I replaced the roof and shingled it with leftover shingles I found at Habitat for Humanity’s sales outlet. I stained the siding Cedar red and painted the trim green. Now it looks cute, and I can see it from the kitchen window. No more leaving chickens in the Wayback as fodder for the raccoon. All four chickens love being freed into the backyard. They talk to me and let me touch them. Blackie has shown them the pleasure of the shade under the lilac bush and the dust baths she has prepared. 

 

 

The first episode of my novel Song of Africa, is available on Kindle Vella#. The first three episodes are FREE. After than tokens are required for further reading.this was Kindle’s brilliant idea, for people like to read segments, and this gives a feeling for the book, and gives the reader the opportunity to keep reading or not.

Be the first to click  RAVE, or read, and please follow. I'd love it. My mom would love it, my cat would love it--the chickens would be so so.

I better get crackin’ onto Episode 2.

 https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B09946NSS6 

 

 

Pulling Together

First a few quotes I'm contemplating:

 

“We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.”—Carlos Castaneda.

 

“You never hear about truly self-actualized people, like Buddha or Christ telling people they’re stupid losers. It goes against the nature of enlightenment.”

 –Martha Beck

 

“Republicans and Democrats are today far more likely to view those members of the other party not as competitors, but as enemies, holding overwhelmingly unfavorable views of each other”—Online report.

 

“The vaccine fight, rather than an outgrowth of Trump’s divisive presidency, is just another example of how polarization is not just transforming American society — it’s literally killing people.”

 

(How? They are also voting down such systems as Medicaid, thus limiting health care. And because of mistrust of each other, they end up paralyzing Congress and the federal government.)

. 

 

The first two quotes came from an old blog post of mine. Some dear soul/ reader commented:

 

“Completely, u got this 1 down correct, man. Keeped me entertained for ages.” 

 

      

I decided to see what he was commenting from. The post was “Going with the Flow,” September 13, 2019-- my oh my, almost two years ago. So, I reread it and found I need to follow my own advice.

 

 

Don’t forget to read the True Story at the bottom of the page.

 

 

Presently, it appears that people, instead of hanging together--unified as we have done in times past, are divided. For example, during WWII, little children pushed their wagons around the neighborhood, collecting whatever pots and pans the neighbors felt they could spare. (The military needed metal for war machines.) Citizens bought war bonds to support the war. They graciously accepted the rationing of food and shoes even. Have we forgotten that? 

 

Have we forgotten that once we pulled together?

 

Have we forgotten that blacks and Native Americans fought alongside white Anglo-Saxon boys? Have we forgotten that 29 Navajo Code Talkers created an unbreakable code that helped win World War II? Although the Japanese were breaking every code the Americans were throwing at them, they never broke the Navajo code.

 

Now we are divided over Vaccinations.

 

Vaccinations, for heaven’s sake. It has become a religious fervor.

 

I’m mystified. 

 

I had hoped we would learn to stick together from this pandemic…

 

Nope.

 

I will repeat: “You never hear about truly self-actualized people, like Buddha or Christ telling people they’re stupid losers. It goes against the nature of enlightenment.” Martha Beck

 

 

How are we doing?

 

Do we want to see the people of the earth survive and thrive?

 

Biology says that we don’t need post-menopausal women because they don’t reproduce. However, psychology says we need them to keep our DNA alive and assist the next generation. 

 

Same with men.

 

Oldsters still have a job. 

 

I have quoted Richard Bach from his book Illusions many times. And I am again: “If you think your mission in life is over if you’re alive, it isn’t.”

 

We didn’t lose our hearts and minds somewhere over the years or get beaten down by the endless rabble that pounds us on every turn. 

 

We still believe in our country, except a mist has covered our eyes, and we believe the ultra-rich and the famous somehow have more smarts than we do. 

 

Yes, those who made it to the top of their game have done their hard work and had determination and a mindset that assisted the process. Success was important to them. However, it doesn’t mean they are wise.

 

Others focused on keeping the cogs working at home and with family—that was important to them. 

 

And the unsung heroes at home had dreams but felt stymied to reach them. Some of their stymied conditions were intended to keep them down. We built schools to make workers who could sit for long periods and do mindless repetitive jobs. And because of finances, we would even take PE, art, and music out of our schools. (Body, mind, and spirit fell to technological advances.) Keep those noses to the grindstone, build more gismos. Help make life easier for the populace. Slowly we were conditioned. We needed workers and consumers, so we hit the people with clever commercials. Earlier on, we had an excellent new attention device for the public—television. 

 

Early television was such fun, and we loved entertainment, and the dog-style instincts in us loved watching moving objects. And in our hearts, we believed that the ones talking were giving us the truth.

 

The people still believed in the American dream. To prove it, they were those few who popped out and achieved their dream—the exceptions proved the rule. People believed in the spirit of the country and in the pureness of people. 

 

Some remembered how Rosie the Riveter proved women could step into men’s shoes and get the job done. They remembered how the men sacrificed, missed their children’s childhood, were maimed and killed in their effort to fight evil. 

 

We forgot because it was too painful to remember.

 

Once GI Joe was considered a hero. He was a hero. In WWII, the military was filled with every man, not just career-minded ones. Or ones who liked kicking people’s butts.

 

A True Story:

 

A few years ago, we had a friend—he only left us to go to the happy hunting grounds. His name was Jack Carol.

 

He visited us often, and as he passed my kitchen window on the way to the front door, I would call out, “Hi Jack!”

 

“Don’t ever say that to a pilot,” he would answer.

 

He was a navigator during the Second World War.

 

The navigator sits behind the pilot, and according to Jack, it was the safest place on the plane.

 

That proved to be true for Jack, for he was shot down three times and twice was the only survivor.

 

The third time he was captured by a German soldier.

 

There was a lot of noise going on around the crash site, with shells going off and shots being fired, and the German soldier was leading Jack away from the turmoil. Jack felt he was going to be shot.

 

As they walked through the forest, Jack tripped, and as he did, he pulled the gun from his boot, slid it up his body, and laid it on his shoulder, and fired. He didn’t know if his bullet connected with the man behind him or not, but he ran and escaped.

 

He hid during the day and traveled at night, and he said he witnessed an aerial dog fight at times. Meaning planes, you know, as in Curse you Red Baron. 

 

Jack caught cold and developed pneumonia but ended up at a French woman’s farm. (Yeah, I know this sounds like a movie. She was not a young gorgeous French woman, but an older French woman with a heart of gold.) She was alone and living off her land, which wasn’t much. He said she wore a dress that was woven together out of cellophane. She hid Jack from the Germans and shared her meager fare with him. One day the US Military front advanced to her door. 

 

Jack came out of hiding, gave his credentials, and told the group of GIs how this woman had saved him. 

 

The following morning a US jeep appeared at her door laden with goodies—food and clothing.

 

And Jack was taken into their care.

 

He lived many years In San Diego. He didn’t fly anymore when we knew him, but he was still fascinated by flying objects.