Food Wars

You can scorn my church and party; you may sneer at my physique --
but don't you dare say anything about my cloves or leek!
It may be a free country, where all voices can be heard,
but I will start a lawsuit if you don't like lemon curd.
And when it comes to grass-fed and organic caviar
I'll gladly get into the ring and with you grimly spar.
My food must be correct in ev'ry manner, shape, and source;
and if my spouse thinks diff'rent I'll just file for a divorce! 

Louie's Bar, Payne Avenue

Louie's Bar, Payne Avenue, was quite a classy joint;
they didn't care how old you were if you could only point
at the poison you would drink until the punches flew.
(Topics could be politics, the weather, Rod Carew.)
Twas deep and dark and comfy, with the smell of yeasty years;
a place a guy could think about the cosmos over beers.
 But now the place is shuttered, soon to be a coffee shop,
or some place they brew craft stout, and not good old-fashioned slop.
I'll have to take my benders to another cocktail lounge,
where I can start a new bar tab and see what I can scrounge . . . 

Paul Bunyan

Paul Bunyan with Babe the blue ox
strode over the bogs and the rocks,
to slice up the trees
as if they were cheese;
but did not replant, the lummox!

I once knew a man from Nantucket

I once knew a man from Nantucket
who said "I just never can duck it;
my hometown is noted
for lim'ricks oft quoted
that would make a parson upchuck it!"

Limerick Ideas Wanted

I'm soliciting ideas and suggestions for future limericks.

If there is anything that especially bugs you, puzzles you, or enthralls you, please share it with me so I can create a limerick about it. Or if want one of your own pieces limericked, I'll be happy to do that as well. Once it's done, you'll get it before anyone else and I'll delay posting it myself in case you want to use it first.

Thanks!
Tim Torkildson
571-409-8200

Fresh produce

Fresh produce is always a joy,
whether jackfruit or baby bok choy.
When prices are low
I buy with gusto,
to cook with the juice of the soy. 

Letter. June 25, 2016

Hey Madel Paddle!
I saw that frog photo of diesel on FB; gads, he's growing so tall and handsome! I wouldn't recognize him.
I'll try to keep this little note from becoming just another one of my Medical Bulletins. It's so dreary to keep writing about my health issues. Suffice it to say that when I get one thing cleared up something else comes along that keeps me inside most of the time. Right now it's the edema and kidney stones. Nuff said.

I've been to see your mother several times this past week. As we discussed over the phone, I'm very concerned about her dizzy spells, especially since she's alone so much of the time. And this intense Utah heat is not helping things any. She doesn't have any ac in her apartment. But she insists she's fine by herself, at least that's what she says when I offer her any help. So I'll just let her be for now.

This past week has gone by pretty fast for me. And I've done pretty much nothing but sleep, read, write, and eat. And drink lots of cranberry juice. My limericks are doing well; more & more journalists are asking me to put them on my limerick email list.

Here's a weird thing that happened last night:
I was watching "Some Like it Hot" on my laptop when I heard terrible screaming outside in the alley. I got my shoes on and went out to find my next door neighbor lady on the ground, having some kind of fit, with her daughter bent over her screaming like a demented banshee.
She was dialing 911 and screaming incoherently at her mother at the same time. I told her to stop screaming, as it was obviously upsetting her poor mother, so she did and finally got through to the medics, who came racing over on their fire truck. I was holding the poor woman's hands, trying to keep her calm and reassuring her that help was on the way, when the daughter pushed me away saying "I don't know who the hell you are, mister -- get away from my mother!" She was obviously hysterical. So I backed off and watched the medics give her mother oxygen and then get an ambulance to take her to the hospital. She's still not back yet this morning.
So much for being a good samaritan; if it ever happens again I'll let the deranged daughter handle it all by herself!

I won't be helping out at the Heritage Festival this year with the Mayflower exhibit, as I've done for the past two years. I just can't stand being out in the heat all day long -- I get dehydrated no matter how much water I drink. And the bathrooms are about a half mile away.

Lately when I've had insomnia instead of reading a book for hours I go into the kitchen and make myself bacon and eggs and toast. Then I'm usually able to get back to sleep. Since I rarely have anything more than a small salad for dinner in this heat, maybe it's hunger that wakes me up in the middle of the night. Anyway, the late night/early morning meal goes down well and seems to help me catch a few more Z's.

Well, I guess that's it.  I gave Sarah the digital camera I bought on eBay several weeks ago so she could take lots of pictures while on Vacation in Oregon. And post them. I figured I was never really going to use the camera much myself. Sometimes I think being around your mother is making me into more of a hypochondriac -- I keep myself shut in, reading articles from the Mayo Clinic about my various conditions. Well, at least so far I'm not spending a fortune on supplements or other nostrums. Your mother takes a seaweed pill that costs $75.00 per bottle, among other things. But I guess I shouldn't criticize her -- we all have our foibles and obsessions. My obsession is to become famous as the re-inventor of the limerick:  How crazy is that?

I look forward to seeing you in a couple of weeks for the wedding. The last word I had was that Steve still doesn't have his Temple recommend and may not get it in time, which is giving his in-laws fits. I warned Steve, from my own experience, that bishops and stake presidents can't be rushed in these things, and don't like it when they feel pushed. It just makes them slow down even more.

See you in the funny papers.  dad

The Butterfly

The butterfly is a reminder
that ev'rything ought to be kinder.
These pigments that float
(and don't ever vote),
keep us from going much blinder.

Could the Dust Bowl Happen Again?

The Dust Bowl was the name given to the Great Plains region devastated by drought in 1930s depression-ridden America. The 150,000-square-mile area, encompassing the Oklahoma and Texas panhandles and neighboring sections of Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico, has little rainfall, light soil, and high winds, a potentially destructive combination. When drought struck from 1934 to 1937, the soil lacked the stronger root system of grass as an anchor, so the winds easily picked up the loose topsoil and swirled it into dense dust clouds, called “black blizzards.” Recurrent dust storms wreaked havoc, choking cattle and pasture lands and driving 60 percent of the population from the region. Most of these “exodusters” went to agricultural areas first and then to cities, especially in the Far West.

The American agricultural system came close to ruin during those perilous years; in fact, some contemporary experts began warning that the American family would soon have to start spending nearly 40% of their income just to get enough to eat. Fortunately, they were wrong; today the average American family spends only 7% of their income on food.

But even so, there are many scenarios in which your food budget could skyrocket, either temporarily or for a long time -- such as natural disasters or civil disturbances that disrupt the food supply chain. Hikingware.com suggests that you should keep on hand a full supply of nutritious and long-lasting emergency rations for your family.

Can the Dust Bowl happen again? Historians tell us that, to a lesser extent, it can happen again at any time:

In response to the original emergency, the federal government mobilized several New Deal agencies, principally the Soil Conservation Service formed in 1935, to promote farm rehabilitation. Working on the local level, the government instructed farmers to plant trees and grass to anchor the soil, to plow and terrace in contour patterns to hold rainwater, and to allow portions of farmland to lie fallow each year so the soil could regenerate. The government also purchased 11.3 million acres of submarginal land to keep it out of production. By 1941 much of the land was rehabilitated, but the region repeated its mistakes during World War II as farmers again plowed up grassland to plant wheat when grain prices rose. Drought threatened another disaster in the 1950s, prompting Congress to subsidize farmers in restoring millions of acres of wheat back to grassland.

With global warming and continuing drought in many parts of the United States, the day may come sooner than expected when your food budget will double or even triple.

So having an ample supply of basic food stuffs on hand, as well as emergency rations for the whole family just makes sense.

As Groucho Marx once said: "Food for thought doesn't do you much good when you're hungry for a hamburger!"

The Critic

The critic likes to pick apart

anything that shows some heart.

When he's dissected, by and by,

I hope he's sterilized with lye.