January 28, 2013
January 17, 2013
Facebook and Twitter; I also don't usually plan out my blog topics more than a week in advance. The Atomic Chicken, however, has been on my mind for some time. Years, in fact. In "real life," I earn a living as the custodial supervisor for the local college. Each year in January, before students return from their Christmas break, the various bosses in the facilities department get together for a chili cook-off. However, unlike the start of the school year barbecue (which is matched by a pizza party for the graveyard shift), there is no equivalent event for those custodians who work at night; it is a day shift tradition only, and until August of this year I worked at night. Except, that is, briefly at the beginning of 2007. That year, I joined the day staff as a regular custodian just a week or two before the chili event. I came, and I ate, but I didn't contribute. While I enjoyed (most) of what I had, one thing was missing. Heat. Those of you who have been with me over a year may recall that I'm somewhat of a pepper belly. A chili cook-off devoid of spice just seemed wrong. As fate would have it, I didn't make it to 2008's chili feed; I was back on the night crew. So when I rejoined the day staff as supervisor this past August, one of the first questions I asked my crew was "are they still doing that chili thing?"
January 15, 2013
The last time we spoke, I proudly proclaimed that one of the major reasons why posts were so few and far between during the holidays was because I wanted to spend time with my family. This was true, but it wasn't the only thing keeping me away from the computer. The stomach flu (which is not really a flu at all) rampaged through our house over Christmas break. Wife works at a daycare, where all sorts of nasty germs are brought in each day, and she was the first to have it. Our friend Grasshopper was next, ill on Christmas day. Then Boy, then Mother-in-Law and finally (just as I though I'd escape,) me. So as we all took turns quarantined in front of Netflix on the couch, I wasn't thinking much about artfully staged plates or which angle to stand to keep my shadow off of the onions. Luckily the same couldn't be said for Wife.