Mango-Cranberry Chutney
24 December 2005 By 2 Comments
MMMMMmmmm…This is my Christmas tradition. I made it last year. I’m now making it this year. Thank you to my colleague and friend: Quebec-Martin. He made this recipe one year for his Thanksgiving. I wasn’t at his Thanksgiving, but somehow, I got this recipe. It is simply fabulous!! (Oh. On a side note, it is best to open a bottle of red wine while you are making this recipe. Preferably, a bottle from my neighbour’s personal cellar: Bluenose Petit Syrah.)
3 teaspoons peanut oil
1 small (sweet) onion, chopped
pinch of salt.
1 teaspoon of curry powder
1 cinnamon stick, broken
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup of lightly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup of cider vinegar
2 large under-ripe mangoes, peeled and diced
1 pound of cranberries
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1. Heat 1 teaspoon of peanut oil in a large saucepan. Add the onion and salt and cooked over moderately low heat, stirring until the onion softens (about 8 minutes).
2. Add the curry powered and cinnamon stick and cook for one minute.
3. Stir in the sugars and vinegar and bring to a boil.
4. Add the mangoes and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened (about 35 to 40 minutes).
5. Add the cranberries and cook over moderate heat for 40 more minutes, crushing them against the sides of the pan.
6. In a separate saucepan, heat the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil. Add the mustard seeds and cook until they begin to pop. Then, add them to the chutney.
7. Stir the chutney. Transfer to a bowl and let cool.
By this time, the bottle of wine should be imbibed. You could be typing a blog, calling friends and family long distance, or hopefully, doing something else far more interesting. Merry Christmas to all: especially our friends and families.
Much love,
Jennifer, Dorothy, and Ken.
Dadisms
22 December 2005 By 5 Comments
The other day, I was eating dinner with my friends Katie and Sean. They were making wine in their garage and I wanted to take pictures. Originally, I thought this blog entry would be about how Californian’s make home-made wine, but then, when we sat down to dinner, Sean said: I’m so hungry, I could eat the crotch out of a rag doll!
I laughed and said: Hmm. My Dad would say: I’m so hungry I could eat the asshole out of a skunk and come back for the ears! Sean loved that saying. Then I thought that I would make a blog about my Dad’s sayings becasue they are pretty colourful.
Here are some more Dad-isms:
- “If clues were shoes, you’d be walking on the cheeks of your ass!!” For when you do something stupid.
- “If conceit were consumptious, you’d be consuminated.” For when you might think it appropriate to congratulate yourself a bit too much.
- “Cuttin’ hair and building igloos.” For when somebody asks what you are doing and you think it is fairly obvious exactly what you are doing–nothing!
- “It’s so cold out there, you could freeze the balls off a brass monkey in mating season.” For whenever it’s below -30 degrees Centigrade AND there is a wind chill factor.
- “My back teeth are floating and my front teeth are singin’ Anchor’s Away.” For when you have to piss so badly, you can’t even see!.
- “Up and down more times than a whore’s pair of drawers!” For when you are running up and down the stairs by the side of the house because you’re working on the deck at the back, but all the tools and wee things you need are up at the front.
- “As ugly as the second coming of Christ.” Usually used to describe people that you don’t particularly like.
- “As useless as tits on a boar.” Use this phrase to describe what you really think of something, some person, or some idea.
- “Have to use a shingle to scrape my leg.” For when you are in San Francisco and you are driving with your daughter and she goes through a red light because she’s pointing out all the sites and simply doesn’t see the red light.
- “Skunk hungry.” Derived from the quote: I’m so hungry….(above). You can use this phrase to describe how hungry you are.
- “Skunk dinner.” Again, derived from the quote: I’m so hungry…(above). Use this phrase to describe the dinner you just ate because you were skunk hungry. Also, if it so happens that you had liver and onions for your skunk dinner, you can use this phrase to describe how you smell because you ate a skunk dinner!!!
- “So hungry, my spine is talking to my belly button!” Again, you can use this phrase in reference to food and how hungry you are. (Hmmm….food seems to be a dominant theme with my Dad!)
- “Well, you know what thought did!” When you try to explain something with what you thought was a pretty reasonable explanation–but is actually pretty lame. If somebody says this to you, you have to sheepishly admit: “He thought he farted and he shit himself!”.
- “Being a dumbass isn’t covered under the warranty!” A new quote for my Dad, but I think he might use it. Derived from a recent episode where HE filled my tank on my 2005 Honda Civic with diesel fuel.
- “Covered in {tar | paint | glue } from asshole to breakfast.” For when you are taring, painting, or glueing and you get the stuff all over yourself, the wall, the trinket, the roof–whatever project you are trying to complete.
- Added because Jorden said it to Chantel the other day, but we all know where he got it!!: You can shit in the middle of the table and say you’re sorry…” For when you do something and say you are sorry but it doesn’t change the fact that there is a big, stinkin’ pile of crap in the middle of the table.
- Not necessarily a saying from Dad, but from my sister Nat and along the same lines: “Who pissed in your corn flakes this morning??” You ask this question indignantly when somebody seems to be pissed off at you for now apparent reason. And you let them think about it.
- Added 25 April 2006 “Suckin’ the hind tit!” For when you’re feeling behind the game and like you’ll never catch up. Derived from the fact that the runt of the litter always gets the last tit available–not to mention that it’s also the closest one to all the shit.
- Added 18 April 2008 “Slower than molasses in January!” For when you’re trying to do something and it needs to be done really fast and there’s someone or something who’s holding you up. You’d say: “Come on, let’s get going. You’re slower than molasses in January. My Mum would say to me: “Come on Miss Jibbs. You’re slower than molasses running uphill in January!” Apparently, I always took my time when I was young. I geuss I had the time when I was young.
Redd, Nat, do you have anymore? I know you do. Save them in the comments and I’ll update this entry.
Red Headed Cheddar Cheese With a Little Bit of Mold on Top
2 December 2005 By Leave a Comment
I have been thinking about nicknames lately. Nicknames, pet names–any term of endearment. I usually give nicknames to people I know and talk to alot. My nicknames are never malicious. Never. Nicknames usually just appear for people. They are very personal and specific and arrive out of a series of circumstances or events. I use that nickname for a while, before another one appears and I start using that one. I got to thinking, though, that I have a few nicknames myself.
My mum has two names for me. She calls me Miss Jibbs or Jibby Jones. I like that: Miss Jibbs. I just like it. AND If I ever become that famous saxophone player jazz musician (right!), I will probably use the Jibby Jones identity. Somehow it fits.
One of my current nicknames is Yukon Jen: the domain name for this website. Derived from the fact I am from the Yukon (Mile 906.8 to be exact) and my name is Jennifer. Also, part of it is a bit from this song from the Shuffle Demons: Yukon Girl. I love the Demons!
I think my very first nickname was Freckle Face. Ugh. How un-original. But, can you really expect anything more from a 5-year-old in kindergarden? And, looking back at pictures, I barely had any freckles then.
I think my most original nickname was from a fellow in grade two. His name was Jean-Marc Lechman. He was exotic because he was French Canadian. (And we were currently living in the Yukon–the other end of the universe from Quebec.) I guess I may have been exotic too as one of the only three redheads in school. (My sisters were the other two. The kids on the school bus used to call us Big Red, Little Red, and Medium Red. I was the youngest, so I was Little Red. I guess that qualifies as a nickname too.)
Anyway, on picture day, I wore a dark green velvet jumper dress. I also wore green velvet ribbon in my hair to tie it away from my face. Everytime I passed Jean-Marc, I would shyly smile and look away. (I had a crush on him if you haven’t guessed.) I know he knew I liked him because being a typical guy, he decided to tease me. He started calling me: Red Headed Cheddar Cheese With a Little Bit of Mold on Top (because of the green ribbon!!).
Now, that nickname is original. Descriptive. Articulate. Unique. A mouthful. A handful. I like to think it’s everything I have become! I love it!
How Girls Can Pee in the Woods and Keep Their Dignity
25 November 2005 By 3 Comments
Chantel is my niece. She’s staying home from school today so we can have a day together. Bonding. I love it. She’s a great kid. She came over the Chilkoot Trail with us in the summer. She really impressed me. How many 11-year old girls do you know who can kick butt over 3700 feet?
When she asked to come over the Pass, she kept telling us she could do it. Besides, she would get to bond with her two Aunties. She’s never really had the chance to spend quality time with us.
I told her the trail would be hard. She would get hungry and her feet would be sore–not to mention the state of her shoulders from carrying a backpack. I told her she could come if the only thing she ever said was: I’m having fun Auntie. If she were sore, or grumpy, or hungry, anything else, she would have to say those words with a forced smile and through clenched teeth.
The first day on the trail we were all staying hydrated and drinking lots of water. At one point in time, Chantel says she needs to go to the bathroom. I stop to pull out some bog roll. Redd and Jim keep going. Chantel goes into the woods. After a brief moment, she comes out again. I thought: Wow. That was fast.
Not! She says: Can you help me Auntie? I don’t know how to pee in the woods. Mum usually holds my hands so I can squat. I thought….Hmmmm. Time for you to learn how to pee in the woods Chantel. So I go into the woods with her. She wanted to bond! What better way to bond than to teach her to stand (pee?) on her own two feet?
Here is the real story for today: How Girls Can Pee in the Woods and Keep Their Dignity
Find an appropriate spot. Off the trail is good. 100 feet from running water is also good. The spot should be secluded enough to give you privacy (like your own personal bathroom, without any walls).
Loosen your pants (I’m going to assume you are wearing pants) and start pulling your clothing paraphenalia down over your hips.
At the same time, squat. Bend your knees and stick your butt way out. Lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees.
By now, your pants and paraphenalia should be around your knees. DO NOT PULL THEM DOWN TO YOUR ANKLES. KEEP THEM AT YOUR KNEES.
Now. Feet apart. As wide as you can, remember, your pants are around your knees–not your ankles–and your butt is way out and you are leaning forward resting your elbows on your knees.
Finally, release the pee. Hopefully, the pee is directed at the ground and NOT at your pants or your shoes or anything else you have to wear.
That’s it. That’s the secret. Butt out as far as you can. Lean forward. It’s not really a dignified position, but I am not aware of a dignified position while trying to pee (especially in the woods!). Keep your dignity by not getting yourself (or your pants, boots, socks) wet.
5-Things or Less Recipes
24 November 2005 By Leave a Comment
I collect recipes of 5 ingredients or less. Today, I was talking to my nephew about cooking. (He’s a great cook by the way!!). He said his five ingredient recipe would include:
1. Get cookbook.
2. Find recipe.
3. Buy ingredients.
4. Cook.
5. Eat.
I laughed and said I would include this recipe in my 5-things or less cookbook.
When you are my age…
17 November 2005 By Leave a Comment
In third year university, I rented the basement of a family home. The woman had her Masters degree in Early Childhood Education. She also had a three-year-old son and a new born. During the day, she took care of other children in the neighbourhood.
As I went upstairs one day to use the bathroom, I saw Evan (the three-year old) and a neighbourhood girl (about two years old) standing around the toilet with their pants around their ankles. I overheard him say, “Watch. This is how I do it.” Followed by a few seconds silence. Then I heard him state matter of factly, “Oh. Maybe when you get to be my age, you’ll grow one. It’ll be easier!”
Remembrance Day
11 November 2005 By Leave a Comment
The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Today is Remembrance Day in Canada. My Dad will be participating in the local parade in Whitehorse. I want to post a picture of him in his regalia. My Dad never actually fought in a war, but the military is a big part of his life–so, I want to honour that.
Here is a poem I wrote in grade 11 after visiting Vimy Ridge in France. It was a grey and drizzly day and we could feel the ghosts of everybody who died there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
VIMY RIDGE
A piece of land, so desolate and bare
Experienced a feeling ever so rare
A sense of victory and one of loss
For which we’ve paid at such a cost!
Six thousand lives of our brave and bold
Were taken one day so rainy and cold
The lives of men, the lives of boys
Who went to war thinking guns were toys
They went for adventure, they went for fun
But their lives ended before they’d begun
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here is a link to learn about Canadians at Vimy Ridge and their contributions to WWI.
Oh Deer!
9 November 2005 By Leave a Comment
Last week on the way to work I hit a bird on the middle of the 101 highway going from Cotati to Petaluma. Posting one story about road kill brought a slew of other stories. So, on the road kill theme, here is another story about road kill. This story is compliments of Stephen because he could remember far more details.
Dopey Dave (a friend from Ottawa) hits a deer with his brand new pretty-little-CRV in the town of Lac St Marie, about 15 min from the Mount St. Marie ski hill in Quebec. He hits the deer in the head. Its body spins around and smashes his passenger side door and window. Upon inspecting deer he discovers it is immobilized, but still alive.
The humane thing to do would have been to hit the deer with the CRV again and simply kill it–but no, Dave has other plans. He decides to leave the deer by the roadside and drive 15 minutes up to Mt. St Marie, expecting that one of the ski patrollers would have a gun that he could use to kill the deer. (Do ski patrollers carry guns as part of their standard first aid kit? Is a bullet in the head the recommended treatment for a skier with a broken leg?)
Luckily, none of the ski patrollers has a gun. One of them suggests that Dave might find a gun in the bar across the street from where Dave hit the deer. So, 40 minutes later, Dave returns to the scene of the crime. The deer is still immobilized but still alive. Dave enters the bar and asks if anyone has a gun. Nope, no guns – this is Canada. If this were the U.S., the first soccer mom to come by in her mini-van could have no doubt provided a selection of weaponry, but not in Canada.
However, the barmaid does have a nasty looking kitchen knife. Dave decides that he’ll take that and go out and slit the deer’s throat. So, Dave holds the deer by the antlers and starts sawing away at its neck. After several minutes of sawing Dave realizes that the deer’s hide is really thick and the knife isn’t doing anything.
Dave returns to the bar, looking for an alternative method to dispatch the deer. This time the barmaid gives him a hammer! Yes, a fucking hammer! Dave goes back outside and proceeds to whack the deer in the head. Repeatedly! Bonk! Bonk! Bonk! The deer has a thick skull. Dave pounds away, but the hammer just bounces back. The deer is becoming more and more panicked, but no more dead.
Back into the bar and Dave emerges with a big screwdriver. By this time the deer is trying to get to its feet and flee the scene. Being hit by a CRV was bad enough, but the looney with the tools is just too much. Also, another car has pulled over and a family is getting out to see what’s going on. Dave decides that he’s going to stab the deer in the neck with the screwdriver. The concerned father ushers his kids back to the car so that they don’t have to witness the horrific scene of Dave stabbing a deer in the neck as it tries to get to its feet. The father decides to help Dave, so he wrestles the deer to the ground while Dave stabs away.
Finally, the screwdriver stabbing takes effect (or perhaps the shock of the situation took effect) and the deer meets is maker—about 2 hours after having been hit by Dave’s pretty-little-CRV.
Dopey Dave is a ski patroller. He’s the guy with first-aid training and bucket-loads of common sense (hmmm). He will assist you should you have had an accident on a ski hill. Just hope that he doesn’t come to your assistance should you have an accident with a car.
Chuck Stuck in Truck
7 November 2005 By Leave a Comment
I was walking to the Steel Bear Deli last Monday to get my milk for my coffee at work and I saw Chucky on this truck. I thought, I have to take a picture of him. My sister worked on the movie The Bride of Chucky in 1998. She would get a laugh from knowing that a doll of him was stuck in a truck on the roadway outside my work. I think it had something to do with Halloween. Here are a few pictures of Chucky stuck in a truck outside my work on Halloween.
 |
 |
 |
Last year when I went home to visit my parents, we watched The Bride of Chucky on TV. We even watched the credits roll so we could see my sister’s name on TV. Somehow, it was all very exciting at the time–but maybe you just had to be there.
