Caring for yur herring, or, The Blind Robins Thread

[bc1448]

Jeff... you are a master of the culinary arts!
Blake

[horseshoer]

If I see you again anytime soon I'll bring you some seasoned cherry firewood. Too late to smoke those herring but maybe for the next thing.

Oh man you do that and I'll let you walk around my garden and pick what you want. That would be greatly appreciated Sabi.

[wasabi]

Wish it had come up sooner. I've burnt up most of it this year but still have a few seasoned splits around. Sometimes I split one open and just smell the wood on the inside. Also use it in my smoker when I get off my arse and make something.

[spec2ring]

i tell ya shoer you need to write a cook book. i bet those things are gonna be mmm good. and remember puff puff give!

[horseshoer]

That aint herring he is smoking c12,What was the challenge? I tried it once standing up in a hammock,anything close?

Had an ottoman on caster wheels in TX, gave the ol lady tours of the house on.
She was along for the ride, I powered it & steered.
I became quite proficient piloting the thing as time went on, and discovered the gear sequence, mastered the 2 speed reverse, and if I let my toenails grow long and curled my toes under found it had positraction and 4WD. The only glitch we encountered was when we were WOT the steering got erratic
and the ol lady would get mad if I accidently took her into the wall. Sheetrock had dents in it in various locations that matched up with the top of her head. Wanna really make her mad I'd take our craft and point it into a corner, and once wedged in there set the emergency brakes and work on it for a while. We had it on 2 wheels occasionally doing turns in too high of a gear and too much speed but never rolled it. Lived in a garage apartment and never had much of a straightaway, short course track you might say. Kitchen was long & narrow and ottoman barely fit when passing between fridge and stove, had to back out. The throttle stuck open once in there and thankfully at the end of the road a tall plastic garb can that held the dogfood rested, buffered the impact for her noggin. When the tour had reached its' apex and was over I often found myself on the floor collapsed next to the ottoman while the ol lady finally let her arm and leg muscles relax and she would be draped over it like a deer on the hood of a truck. Only linoleum was in the kitchen and step on the gas just a little and we were rolling but on the carpet I had to put it in a low gear and keep pressure on the accelerator. That kitchen was tricky, touch the brakes and she'd spin out from under me
and ya had a runaway train & have to go recouple the tugboat to the barge.
Had thought of lining the bottom 3.5 ft of all the walls with that Nascar Safer barrier material to cushion the shock of impacts when the race heated up and the white flag came out, but never did.
Actually, this passtime shared many similarities with Nascar. We had pit stops, made wedge adjustments, and occasionally the smell of burning rubber was in the air. Lug nuts took on a whole new meaning and she once dropped both of em when seeing a collision coming. I wasnt gonna tell it for fear ya all would see me as a wuss, but after too many head-on crashes the team decided she needed a helmet, and it always felt a little weird riding with her after that. Speaking of our team, were not organized & had no funding but it dint matter, we discussed it and felt no need for a crew chief or spotters.
Besides, after we went to the helmet & HANS Device, an 84 Lumber or Frosted Flakes/DieHard/Go Army theme on her rear quarter panels woulda taken away even more enjoyment for me in running a race.

A sad ending. Our race days are over. The ottoman was not included in the yard sale when fixin to move here from TX. We just dint feel it would be right to send a stranger away having purchased it without knowing its race record.
And about that time the ol lady started having trouble with her stabilizers and ended up in the shop getting a double knee replacement.
I have tried to encourage her that we should get another ottoman on wheels
and not necessarily have to run as many races but altleast run a few qualifying laps. I miss hitting that bump in the track going from linoleum to carpet. Wanna go try dirt track once on some washboard road. She aint havin no part of it though, and blames me for her stabilizers going out. I have to remind her that she was a willing member of the race team and I am sick of being the scapegoat. Maybe I did have something to do with that but I know the other stuff like mars in her bodywork, and her upholstery sagging & getting wrinkles aint on me dammit. I try to exonerate myself by dtracting her with facts like I never once had a slip up when we raced and checked her oil when I was getting back into the drivers seat after a wreck.

[squirrel hunter]

Had an ottoman on caster wheels in TX, gave the ol lady tours of the house on.
She was along for the ride, I powered it & steered.
I became quite proficient piloting the thing as time went on, and discovered the gear sequence, mastered the 2 speed reverse, and if I let my toenails grow long and curled my toes under found it had positraction and 4WD. The only glitch we encountered was when we were WOT the steering got erratic
and the ol lady would get mad if I accidently took her into the wall. Sheetrock had dents in it in various locations that matched up with the top of her head. Wanna really make her mad I'd take our craft and point it into a corner, and once wedged in there set the emergency brakes and work on it for a while. We had it on 2 wheels occasionally doing turns in too high of a gear and too much speed but never rolled it. Lived in a garage apartment and never had much of a straightaway, short course track you might say. Kitchen was long & narrow and ottoman barely fit when passing between fridge and stove, had to back out. The throttle stuck open once in there and thankfully at the end of the road a tall plastic garb can that held the dogfood rested, buffered the impact for her noggin. When the tour had reached its' apex and was over I often found myself on the floor collapsed next to the ottoman while the ol lady finally let her arm and leg muscles relax and she would be draped over it like a deer on the hood of a truck. Only linoleum was in the kitchen and step on the gas just a little and we were rolling but on the carpet I had to put it in a low gear and keep pressure on the accelerator. That kitchen was tricky, touch the brakes and she'd spin out from under me
and ya had a runaway train & have to go recouple the tugboat to the barge.
Had thought of lining the bottom 3.5 ft of all the walls with that Nascar Safer barrier material to cushion the shock of impacts when the race heated up and the white flag came out, but never did.
Actually, this passtime shared many similarities with Nascar. We had pit stops, made wedge adjustments, and occasionally the smell of burning rubber was in the air. Lug nuts took on a whole new meaning and she once dropped both of em when seeing a collision coming. I wasnt gonna tell it for fear ya all would see me as a wuss, but after too many head-on crashes the team decided she needed a helmet, and it always felt a little weird riding with her after that. Speaking of our team, were not organized & had no funding but it dint matter, we discussed it and felt no need for a crew chief or spotters.
Besides, after we went to the helmet & HANS Device, an 84 Lumber or Frosted Flakes/DieHard/Go Army theme on her rear quarter panels woulda taken away even more enjoyment for me in running a race.

A sad ending. Our race days are over. The ottoman was not included in the yard sale when fixin to move here from TX. We just dint feel it would be right to send a stranger away having purchased it without knowing its race record.
And about that time the ol lady started having trouble with her stabilizers and ended up in the shop getting a double knee replacement.
I have tried to encourage her that we should get another ottoman on wheels
and not necessarily have to run as many races but altleast run a few qualifying laps. I miss hitting that bump in the track going from linoleum to carpet. Wanna go try dirt track once on some washboard road. She aint havin no part of it though, and blames me for her stabilizers going out. I have to remind her that she was a willing member of the race team and I am sick of being the scapegoat. Maybe I did have something to do with that but I know the other stuff like mars in her bodywork, and her upholstery sagging & getting wrinkles aint on me dammit. I try to exonerate myself by dtracting her with facts like I never once had a slip up when we raced and checked her oil when I was getting back into the drivers seat after a wreck.

Planning on any more NOVELS today I could use another nap.

[horseshoer]

Planning on any more NOVELS today I could use another nap.

Now did that delayed harvest not satisfy you, or did the girls at those Dew Drop Inns around Boone have 1 less than the required amount of teeth you confederates set yur standards by to leave you feeling so ugly?
I just lost a doozy that took 2 hrs but musta overloaded C.c circuits and like a dusty fart, nuthin left of it.

[squirrel hunter]

Now did that delayed harvest not satisfy you, or did the girls at those Dew Drop Inns around Boone have 1 less than the required amount of teeth you confederates set yur standards by to leave you feeling so ugly?
I just lost a doozy that took 2 hrs but musta overloaded C.c circuits and like a dusty fart, nuthin left of it.

I could not get my possie to go huntin'......well, nevermind. They all said they were too tired or whatever.
Just as well, as my favorite huntin ground in Maggie Valley, named Big Rick's has changed their name to "Little Micheal's". It used to remind me of the bar in Roadhouse but now it's probably a "Dayton" bar.

[horseshoer]

I could not get my possie to go huntin'......well, nevermind. They all said they were too tired or whatever.
Just as well, as my favorite huntin ground in Maggie Valley, named Big Rick's has changed their name to "Little Micheal's". It used to remind me of the bar in Roadhouse but now it's probably a "Dayton" bar.

Man you stepped around that one in a Pulitzer-Prize winning way with yur choice of words. I never knew you had it in you but nice piece of work. :D
For as many times as I have seen Roadhouse, I'll never forget Sam Elliot pulling up to it for the first time on his bike fresh off the road, lookin at the sign, and snickerring to himself as he mumbled " The Crusty Carpet."