It's Valentine's Day. This is the day when lovers give each other cards and flowers and they go out for dinner--usually at inflated prices. We don't go out anymore for Valentine's Day, instead we eat at home. My wife makes a duck and it is always delicious. We've done so for years. It is much cheaper that way and we have a nice, quiet dinner without the noise and the hustle and bustle in a restaurant.
Besides, nobody makes a duck the way my wife does. She takes the time, usually about 3 hours in the oven, to make sure the fat is all broiled out and the skin is nice and crispy. And the meat is tender, not tough the way we've already had it in different restaurants. Duck rarely on the menu at most places, only at specialty restaurants. They charge a pretty penny and it probably isn't as good as making it at home. The reason is actually quite simple: Nobody wants to wait that long for a duck dinner, so the cooks will have to hurry it, which means a fatty and tough duck.
I'm not going to put a picture of the meal here. In case anyone is interested in seeing what a duck dinner looks like, please, go to my blog from last year:
http://hergros.blogspot.ca/2015/02/valentines-day.html
You'll find a picture plus a #poem I wrote for #Valentine's Day.
However, here is a picture of a Peking Duck. A live one.
Have a Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you're enjoying it with a person you love, either your husband or wife, a good friend, or even with your parents or children.
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Welcome Visitors
Welcome to my personal blog. I have another blog, Herbert's Place, but that one limits me to what I sometimes want to publish, because it is mainly used to promote my books. As it says in the header, I want to use this blog to write about things that have nothing to do with my books. There is no real theme here. I'll be writing about anything that causes me to either be happy or somethings that concerns me. It could be political, travel, a hobby, or anything else. So come and visit me sometimes.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Friday, February 12, 2016
#Mike and Molly
One of the funny shows we are watching these days on TV is
Mike and Molly. The last episode wasn’t funny at all. I found it annoying and disconcerting.
Anyone who hasn’t watched the show, here is a short blurb:
Molly, who was supposed to be writing on her next book (she is a writer),
hasn’t written anything for a couple of weeks. Instead she spent her days and
evenings out on the town with her mother and sister. Consequently, she doesn’t
do any housework, especially not cooking.
Mike gets upsets when he comes home after a day of work and
finds nothing to eat. When he confronts
Molly, saying that since she hasn’t done any productive work she should at
least be cooking for him.
Here is where the funny part stops. Molly mocks him, saying
it is not a woman’s job to cook for her husband. In one scene she gets dressed up
like a maid and serves him breakfast in bed, saying things like, “Is my husband
happy with his wife who just exists to serve him,” and stuff like that.
She even gets Mike’s mother involved. When he visits his mother, she
brings him a beer, asks if she should make him something to eat and draw him a
bath, saying she just does her job as a mother, making sure her son is happy.
Of course, he figures out that it was Molly’s idea to have his mother act that
way.
That episode surely conveyed a wrong picture of how a
marriage works, and writing about it got me thinking.
It just so happens that men are the physically stronger
gender (usually) and the women are weaker. Men are good at certain jobs and women
can do some jobs better. For thousands of years it has been that the men do the
physically demanding work, the early men went on hunts, more modern men worked
on jobs like plowing the fields with primitive tools, cutting down trees,
building homes and jobs like that. Backbreaking work. Women took care of the household
and the children. Equally hard work but not requiring too much physical
strength.
These days, of course, most jobs are not as demanding when
it comes to physical strength. Some jobs have disappeared, others were created.
Anyone can sit behind a computer or a desk, be it a man or a woman. More women
are now in the workforce than ever before. Responsibilities have shifted. Roles
have changed. If a woman makes more money she may become the breadwinner and
the man stays home to raise the children and do the housework. Nothing wrong
with that.
What is wrong is when one partner stays at home and does
nothing and still expects the working partner to pitch in with the housework,
like cooking, cleaning up and doing the laundry. There usually is still plenty
of work to be done in the yard, the garage, or there are other chores, anyway.
Chores the man, if he is the breadwinner, does most of time without question.
No woman should be slave to a man and neither should a man
be slave to a woman. Marriage is a partnership where both partners are equal
and they both to their part. Each partner should want to do things for the
other one not out of duty but out of love and respect. There should be no such
thing as ‘This is not my job’. TV shows like the episode of Mike and Molly don’t
help. The put the wrong thoughts into a woman’s head.
I am aware my views are considered old-fashioned. I still think
a man should be out there working, while a woman stays home with the children.
Women are better suited to take care of the children, because of the biological
connection they have. A man can never have that. This also means she does the
cooking and the housework. It seems to go hand-in-hand. Many so-called modern and enlightened women seem to
think differently. I’m not talking about lesbians who are probably man-haters
and can never see that a woman does something for man out of love and because
she wants to please him. I’m talking about a normal woman.
Unfortunately, the old ways don’t work anymore. It is almost
imperative that both parents work do bring in enough money to make it possible
to live a comfortable life, unless a man has such a good-paying job that he
earns enough funds.
There are many underlying problems that brought this about.
People are too demanding. They want new cars, bigger houses, all the modern
gadgets like cell phones, big screen TVs, the movie channels, going on trips, a
cottage etc. The children are involved in all kinds of activities that cost a
lot of money.
The result is family life suffers.
When both partners work and there are children, the children
end up in daycare.
In my humble opinion that is so wrong. Children need the
love of their mother and not a care worker—a stranger. When children come home
from school, the mother should be there. They should not come to an empty
house.
My thinking is this: If a woman wants to have a career, she
shouldn’t have children, because there is no room in her life for a child. If a
child is raised by a stranger how can a mother ever hope to bond with her
child? The children grow up so fast and before parents realize it the children
are teenagers who will go their own way. The parents completely miss out on the
joy of having little children around them all day long, teach them and watch
them grow up. There is not much of a connection between them.
Oh, I know, many people will not agree with me. Just as they
won’t agree with me when I say a woman should cook a meal for her husband if
she is staying at home.
My wife does, even though I am retired and at home now,
also. There is still plenty of work for me to do around the house and in the
yard, but I do help with the dishes and other things. Not because I have to but
because I want to. I even cook the occasional soup ☺. I love making and eating
soups. (Many times I still ask her for advice, because she is the better cook.
She is a woman, that’s why).
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
To #Shave or not to Shave...
Whoever came up with the idea that unshaven men look
handsome and sexy? Was it a woman or just some gay guy? Why are so many men in
commercials not shaved? Are there people out there who want to shape the
appearance of men? It is easy enough. Most people don’t have a mind of their
own. Young people believe that they are unique, master of their own destiny.
Nobody tells them what to do. Right! That’s why there are so many people
walking around with tattoos all over their bodies, or guys with rings in their ears, noses, lips, and other places, but that is another topic.
I believe some people call it the four-o-clock shadow on a man’s face, but I’m actually talking
about some guy who hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, his face full of
stubble; the way we look when my friends and I go hunting and spend a few days
in the bush, away from civilization.
I can agree that a man can look rugged wearing a red plaid
shirt, his brawny arms bare, carrying an axe in one hand, his hair kind of wild
but not long and with a bit of a stubble beard. With the other hand he drags a
tree out of the bush. Instead of an axe he might even be carrying a chainsaw.
Same goes for a hunter carrying a rifle in one hand and
dragging a deer behind him—in the forest. The animals don’t care what you look
like.
Imagine the same guy wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase
in one hand and not shaved. He does not look rugged or handsome; he is and
looks unshaven, in other words he looks like a bum who may not even have washed
his hands and face and not brushed his teeth in the morning.
Perhaps my thinking is completely wrong. I don’t care much
for guys with a scraggly, unruly beard, either. They look even more like
homeless bums. They might even have lice living in those beards. (I wrote an
article about that on my blog some time ago). Why would any civilized man want
to look like those barbarians living in tents in the desert?
I’m a guy and as straight as they come. I like women (I mean
just to look at. I’m not a ‘skirt-chaser’. After all, I’m a married guy. Let’s
not forget that).
Being a civilized man, I like to dress neat and wear clean
clothes. I’m not saying I wear a suit and a tie all the time, but a nice pair
of pants (jeans are okay), and a clean shirt or a sweater, especially when I go shopping or to some casual function,like a movie or a trade show. No holes in the
jeans. And I shave every morning. And comb my hair. (Yes, I’m lucky, I still
have hair. Not as thick as it used to be but it is there). When I go visiting I like to dress even better.
I’m not a snob; perhaps I’m old-fashioned, but I just can’t
accept holes in jeans or other parts of clothing, especially when I see
celebrities on TV wearing clothing like that. They wear nice jackets but they
have holes in their jeans. I think it is an insult to people who actually cannot
afford a pair of new jeans.
Even when I was working on construction I didn’t wear ripped
jeans. They might have had small holes in them but as soon as the holes got too
large I either threw them away or my wife fixed the holes, or she cut off the
bottom part and made shorts out of them. Of course, one can only wear so many
shorts. I have quite a few of them.
I have a pair of ‘garden-jeans’ with some tiny holes and
even the odd little rip, but they don’t have large holes in the knee area.
There is nothing more uncomfortable than having your knees pop out of holes. I
saw just that in one of the last episodes of ‘Last man standing’, where one of
the girls sits with her legs up on the couch and her knees are strangled by the
hole in her jeans.
I’ve said it before: People are Monkeys. Monkey see monkey do. Young people (and
some older ones, too) are impressionable. Young people see stuff like that on
TV or in a magazine and they immediately think it is cool.
NO, IT ISN’T COOL! It is stupid. Don’t be a sheep and follow
somebody who leads you astray!
My wife tells me to let it rest already when I comment on a
girl’s or woman’s ripped jeans. “I’ve heard it often enough. It is time you get
used to it.” At least she doesn’t wear her jeans like that. That is one good
thing. She always dresses nice. Sometimes she even criticizes me when we go
shopping: “You’re not wearing that!”
And I won’t.
How did I get from unshaven men to ripped jeans? My mind
must be wandering.
Another question is popping into my head: Do men think a
woman with long, straggly hair, uncombed, her eyes droopy and looking like she
just crawled out of bed is sexy. Not in my book. Unless she is your wife, of
course. That’s a different story.
My conclusion: If a man doesn't find a sloppy looking woman sexy or attractive, why would a woman find a guy who looks like a bum sexy?
My conclusion: If a man doesn't find a sloppy looking woman sexy or attractive, why would a woman find a guy who looks like a bum sexy?
Just in case my wife reads this blog: Honey, you look sexy
all the time ☺.
Monday, February 8, 2016
Of Idiots and Morons
Mentally handicapped people are not idiots or
morons—usually. They were born that way. Poor souls trapped in Earthly bodies that are not complete. They can’t help to be the way they are
and need to be pitied. I’m not saying they should get away with criminal acts,
but they are allowed to do unreasonable things.
Idiots and Morons are not the same.
#Idiots are fools.
A #Moron is a
very stupid person. According to the dictionary an adult with the mind of an 8
year old. That is an insult to an 8 year old. I would not call an 8 year old a
moron. Some 8 year olds are pretty smart.
I consider radicals and fanatics Idiots, especially
religious radicals. People who strap bombs around their bodies and explode them
while the bomb is on their body are Idiots and Morons.
Where am I going with this? Last week I heard in the news
that one of those Morons boarded a plane, chose a window seat and blew himself
up, obviously with the intention of taking the plane down, consequently
murdering everyone on board.
Unfortunately, for him, the plan didn’t work out that way. The
bomb went off, as planned. Since this smart suicide bomber sat in a window
seat, the blast ripped a hole into the side of the plane and blew him out of
the window. Good riddance. No one is going to miss him. Nobody else was evicted from the plane—just him. The plane landed safely and everyone on board
lived. I don’t know where this happened, but that is not important.
I can just see this guy standing in front of his god:
“Now let me get this straight. You managed to blow only
yourself up? Nobody else? You mean you came all this way alone? What kind of
moron are you? Can’t you do anything right? No virgins for you, you dimwit! I
think I’ll send you back as a woman and make you walk naked into an ISIS
stronghold. That’ll teach you a lesson!”
#Dimwit is just another word for idiot.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Of Trends, Wastefulness and being Prudent
The employees of the company that produces Crown Royal
Whiskey are contemplating going on strike. Obviously, they want more money and
probably more benefits.
Are they nuts? In this economical environment people should
be happy to have a job. And I’m sure they get paid well. Of course, the Union has other ideas. I’ve never been a friend of
Unions.
Let’s assume they go on strike. Will it make any difference
to most people? Even the ones who drink whiskey? I don’t believe so. There are
other producers who make fine whiskey. People will just switch to a different
brand, and the ones who refuse to buy another brand of whiskey because they
believe that Crown Royal is the best are idiots.
I don’t drink much whiskey. In fact I don’t drink any hard liqueur.
The only time I drink whiskey is mixed with either Ginger Ale of Seven-Up, and
that only occasionally. The kind of soft drink I mix it with makes no
difference to me. I don’t pay an arm and a leg for whiskey. I still have 3
bottles which I bought in Cuba.
I paid around ten bucks for a one liter bottle. The whiskey was produced in Spain and it
tastes just fine. I don’t see any point in putting expensive whiskey into a
mix.
I don’t like paying lots of money for alcohol, be it beer or
wine, or anything else. Some people make such a big fuss over the kind of beer
or wine they drink, thumping their nose at cheaper varieties. That’s okay with
me. Beer is beer. Most beers are alike. I buy the cheapest brand, which for me
at this moment is Brewhouse. They charge $20.50 right now for a dozen cans,
which in my opinion is still too much.
That’s why I make my own beer.
I also make my own wine. Some of it tastes better than the
bought wines. One time we went out for dinner with my brother. He bought a
fifty dollar bottle of wine. I tasted it and didn’t even like it. My own wines
taste better. I buy kits of pure juice and just add water. When it comes to wine
kits, I don’t buy the cheap ones, because they have less juice. The last one I
bought had 16 liters of juice, which means I only had to add 7 liters of water.
It is fermenting right now and I’m looking forward to drinking it in a few
months. It does need aging and one needs to be patient.
The other day I had a conversation with a man who went to BC
and bought wine there for $125.00 a bottle. When I sort of raised my eyebrows,
he asked, “Wouldn’t you spend $125.00 for a bottle if you really liked it?”
Are you kidding me? I can spend 125 bucks on other things,
but never on a bottle of wine. I don’t have that kind of money to throw away.
Perhaps if I won Lotto Max I might and then I’m not so sure. No wine tastes that
good. If I were a rabbit I may taste the difference. In case you are curious, a
rabbit has 17,012 taste buds on its tongue while a human has from 2,000 to
8,000.
Most people are snobs. They believe just because it is
expensive and certain people buy it, it must be good. I don’t fall for that
mindset. For example, I never cared for Picasso’s paintings. Just because they
sell for millions of dollars does not make them works of art.
I’m not saying all cheap stuff is good. Some stuff is cheap
because it is crap; that’s why it is cheap. I would never buy cheap tools,
unless they were on sale. However, there are some things where price makes no
difference. We all have to remember, merchants take advantage of buyers. They
know that most people will buy brand names or items that are popular, so they
price their wares accordingly.
I went shopping the other day and looked at some shirts.
When I saw 40% discount my curiosity was aroused, but when I looked at the
ticked and the price was $125.00 after the discount I walked away. I should be
put into an insane asylum to pay that kind of money for a shirt. Again, if I
were the CEO of a company I just might go for it, but I don’t associate with
people who would even notice my expensive shirt. Same goes for pants and other
pieces of clothing.
If it weren’t for my wife, I probably would still wear my
clothes I wore in the eighties or even earlier. I don’t follow trends. I see no
reason to buy new clothes every year. Some people do, they keep on buying new
clothes, furniture, appliances, the latest phone etc. and that’s why they never
have money, no matter how much they earn.
I grew up after the First World War. We were happy to have
clothing at all. I wore used clothing and my mom knitted our sweaters, socks
and other items. If they had holes in them, my mom mended them. Nobody worried
about fashions or trends.
I think most people in the Western World have never experienced
hard times. They have no idea what it means not to have anything to wear or go
hungry. That’s why they waste food and other stuff. Nobody fixes anything
anymore. It all goes to the dump.
I’ve been doing some cleaning in the storage room and I’m
throwing away stuff I’ve had hanging around for years. Stuff that is broken and
cannot be fixed. Among the items are 6 battery operated drills. Actually, they
work just fine, except for the batteries. They are dead and won’t keep the
charge anymore. Replacement batteries cost more than what I paid for the
drills. So into the garbage they go. What a shame, but the drills are useless
to me and just take up space. So it goes. All of us are guilty of wasting
stuff.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
The Man who pissed from the Bus
In the news this morning about a school bus driver who
relieved himself onto the sidewalk standing in the door of his bus. According
to a witness, he did this every day. A woman took videos of that criminal act
and went public.
The woman called the bus company, but they, apparently, did
nothing about it. She didn’t want the
man to lose his job over it, but she was bothered by the man’s activity, so she
finally went to the media. Because of that, the company fired the man.
Now, I don’t condone urinating onto the sidewalk or against
a building, but it probably happens every day downtown. This is the thing:
okay, so the man urinated onto a public sidewalk; he probably had a weak
bladder, but he had a job. Unfortunately, now he lost it, because of an
unpleasant habit.
If that woman was so concerned about it but didn’t want to
cause the unfortunate man any trouble, she should have waited until he was done
with his business and then confront him. Instead, she decided to go public with
her story. Because of that, she didn’t leave the company any choice but to fire
the man.
Congratulations, lady. You are now officially a member of
the Club of Do-gooders who usually do
more harm than good. You’ve managed to cause a man to lose his job. He probably
will have trouble finding another one when he has to explain why he was fired,
but you are keeping the city safe from people who piss onto the sidewalk.
Keep up the good work, but your job may not be done. There
are still plenty of people out there who use a tree in the park or another
public spot to do their business. Many probably have no jobs they are in danger
of losing because of some Watcher-of-the-Righteous-guild
who reports this sort of crime. That may not be as satisfactory, though.
Good hunting.
Not everyone will agree with my evaluation of this
situation; I know my wife doesn’t. She thinks that woman did the right thing.
Well, everyone is entitled to their opinion. I for one think she was wrong.
She’s a busybody. I don’t care much for busybodies and do-gooders. There is
much more stuff going on in the world that needs fixing and our attention.
Pissing from a bus is not exactly a world-shattering event.
Monday, February 1, 2016
My Dad
February 1st is another sad anniversary for me. As we get
older we collect more and more of those days.
My dad passed away on February 1st, 1983. 33 years have past
since then, but that day is forever burnt into my mind. I can recall every
moment of it. My dad had been in the hospital for a year after suffering a
stroke that left him partially paralyzed. His mind was still not bad, but not
great anymore, either.
I visited him in the late afternoon on January 31st. My mom
was already there and she called me from the hospital. When I answered the
phone, it was my dad who was on it. He said, “Please, come, before it is too
late.”
When I got to the hospital, he sat in a wheelchair in the
corridor and when he saw me stepping out of the elevator, he waved all
excitedly and called my name. I was the only one he still recognized. He didn’t
recognize my brother anymore when he came to visit, which wasn’t often. My
brother actually lived in Alberta
at the time.
My mom and I went home in he early evening, but the hospital
called us at 10:00 PM and told us my dad had slipped into a coma. When we got
there he lay in his bed with an oxygen mask over his mouth. I called his name a
few times and he regained consciousness. My mom said to him, “Jesus will come
soon.” He looked at her and said, “No, Jesus isn’t coming.”
He seemed quite lucid and we talked. We stayed with him
until 4:00 AM, but I was getting tired and I said to him, “We’ll be going home
now, Dad.”
He smiled and said, “I’m going home now, too.”
The hospital called us in the morning and told us that my
dad has passed away at 8:00 AM. It was the first day of February, a day I’ll
never forget.
I still had so many questions I wanted to ask him, things I
wanted to tell him, but in our busy lives we never have time to talk much with
our parents. Only after they are gone, we realize all the opportunities we have
missed; all the things that were left unsaid.
I am getting to that stage in my life now where I would like
to discuss my experiences with my children, tell them about my life before they
were born, but they are now where I was when I was their age, busy with their
own lives. I’m afraid there are stories that will never be told.
However, I am doing something my dad never did. I am writing
about my life and perhaps my children and grandchildren will read about it
after I have left this Earth.
.
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