Happy Saint Joey’s Day

Statistically the 23rd of January is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. (Northern hemisphere winter and also the day that people are supposedly the most broke) It is also my birthday. Which is either auspicious. Or suspicious depending on where you stand.

While not yet officially canonized by the Catholic church, Joey has preempted matters somewhat. Saint Joey, patron saint of procrastinators and lost causes. I’m assuming those haven’t been taken yet (although I’m not exactly current on the sainthood spheres of influence). I will now preform the first of many miracles by making this three egg omelet disappear.

Today I am 39 rotations.

Which I always imagined was ridiculously ancient.

I must be honest I am quite glad to be here. I almost didn’t make it. This time last year I was still reeling from the after effects of a pulmonary embolism.

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Δ An MRI, post embolism and subsequent express train to my lungs. I developed a clot on my right forearm just under my elbow which disintegrated and the associated shrapnel from that lodged in my lungs. Apparently this is quite unusual, since I had none of the risk factors, possibly a boxing or jujitsu injury. Although no one can tell me for sure. Interestingly this is what killed Theodore Roosevelt (my all time favorite human)

Better in my lungs than in my brain.

I started today at 4am with a mini-triathlon.

Emphasis on the word mini. 5km round the track. 5mi on the stationary bike and then 500mtrs in the pool.  I’ve decided that I don’t really want to turn forty and be more or less the same person I was when I was turning thirty nine. That seems a little defeatist. I’d like to better… stronger, faster and smarter.

The latter might be beyond my control, but maybe I can do something about the other two.

Looking back on thirty eight I did learn a couple of things…

  1. Don’t chop up chilies and then go down on your wife (or probably anyone for that matter)
  2. Heel cream is NOT toothpaste, even when enclosed in similar packaging with similar viscosity
  3. If it tastes funny, stop brushing.
  4. Your child vomiting on you is less onerous than your date vomiting on you. (which is very onerous)
  5. Operating on yourself with a pair of nail scissors may not lead to optimum results
  6. And also infection.
  7. And finally… my co-workers may be smarter than I give them credit for…

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(This decoy didn’t work. Or rather, didn’t work for as long as I had intended)

I got nifty birthday presents. Every year I say ‘oh, I’m fine, I don’t really need anything’. When I was eighteen my parents gave me a self-help book (Don’t sweat the small stuff) and a chess set with missing pieces. (I’m still wondering if by small stuff they might have been referring to the missing pawns) Which leads me to believe that maybe I should have rather asked for something. Things have improved dramatically since then…

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These days people ‘get me’. Joey-polis is getting some public transport. They’ve always had a very good rail system. But the addition of a bus service will definitely help out my citizens.

In other news I have finally updated my Fundamental Joeyism page into something I am happy with (took me a while)

Anyways, wishing you all a very happy Saint Joey’s day. Hopefully it is of the extremely groovy variety. May your hemorrhoids never hang like grapes.

Lupus, pie and chilies that can burn your face off.

How does it go again? What’s worse than finding a toenail in your pie? Finding the bandaid that was holding it on.

I generally avoid savory pies for this reason. For me pies have always conjured up the image of a man in gumboots mopping the slaughterhouse floor, corralling all the beef detritus into the central drain and then shoveling it into a bucket (later to be combined with ground up hooves and snouts). That’s the meat destined for your pepper steak pie.

We took my daughter for a hair cut this weekend. Which is weirdly exciting for me because the kiddies barbershop has a very decent bookshop next door and across from them is a Morroccan restaurant.

The Morroccan restaurant sells lamb pies. (I love North African food)

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I make a massive exception to my rule for these. They are remarkably delicious, combining the two ambrosia like elements of lamb and pastry. They also don’t skimp on the meat. Just thinking about it makes me salivate uncontrollably.

The little person is taking her afternoon siesta. It’s been a rough morning of arts and crafts and playing Duplo.

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‘Look daddy a cute little lion cub’ OMG BEHIND YOU!!!! (I try and teach my daughter useful survival skills through allegory)

I have my free hour now (maybe an hour an a half if I’m lucky) to kick back and blog. I’ve been joined by a creature. (In our house the humans lie on the floor)

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My German has lupus. Which is why her nose looks a little raw. I know it’s NEVER lupus (Dr. House) but in her case it really is.

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Have some Lupus dad. Right in your eye hole.

For lunch we made sticky teriyaki aubergine. As a Christmas present my sister gave me this…

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Generally I find Jamie Oliver receipes quite hit or miss. We’ve been slowly working our way through this one since Yuletide. So far its mostly been quite good. The sticky teriyaki aubergine today was excellent, and more importantly used stuff from my garden almost exclusively. Except peanuts. And teriyaki sauce.

Maybe next time with slightly less chili. My crop this year has largely been a disaster. I had quite high hopes planting Telica (my all time favorite eating chili), habaneros, Tabasco and chocolate flavored varieties. Only a hail storm in early spring  annihilated all my seedlings save three plants. The lone jalapeño that survived can pit titanium as far as I’m concerned. Goddamn!

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In other news I plan to round out my afternoon furlough with 30 minutes of PlayStation. (Hopefully) In fact I should start with that… now.

Canis familiaris foetidus

Apparently the noise humans find most comforting is the crackling of a fire, combined with the snoring of dogs. It’s apparently an ancestral thing. I can get behind that with out much further rationale.

Currently however I am getting an additional sensory input. That of damp German Shepherd.

I took the dogs to the park this morning at 5am before it got blisteringly warm. The basset hound being ostensibly lower to the ground than his counterpart and the fact that he is also a firm adherent of the ‘let no muddy puddle be left unplumbed’ school of dog waking, came home looking a tad worse for wear.

While I can abide a stinky French man, my wife/his mother cannot. After a brief chase around the garden the le petite corporal was captured, harangued and then placed in the tub of torture.

The German adding her input on techniques best suited to water board a baguette eater.

It’s not so bad, here let me put this damp towel on your head.

After the basset hound we thought maybe we should give the German a go. None of us really relished the thought. The basset hound, once in the tub of torture, becomes super compliant. The German fights you the whole time. Alternating with shaking like a leaf. Which means I have to implement some doggie type Ju-Jitsu on her while the wife does stuff with shampoo and the garden hose.

For our sins (and because she is basically a 40kg sponge) we now to sleep to the aroma of moist canine assailing our nostrils.

In other news I finished building my Christmas present!

The residents of Joey… polis have a new carousel. And they are very pleased with their benevolent, omnipotent, sky god, creator type person.

I really enjoyed building this set. In fact I’m super impressed with the engineering that went into its construction. The whole contraption is driven by a single axle which is then ‘geared’ up to create the rotation of the carousel and the up and down motion of the animal figures. I’m not naturally inclined towards this ‘type’ of thinking, so I find it incredibly clever. I’m ridiculously excited for this years ‘creator’ releases. I’ve already racked up some serious YouTube time perusing sets and watching reviews.