Box Wine
After practice last night, I swung by the grocery store to find some cheap vittles. I had in mind an "it's not delivery" frozen pizza, which I found straightaway.
In financial news, those who disbelieve inflation is on a rampage need to visit the beer aisle. Since when does a decent six-pack cost $8!? Also disappointing is the lack of ales on the shelves. Is America a Lager-Only Zone? Harumph.
So I wandered around, picked up some OJ (with pulp, and
calcium: the latest Outside magazine has a frightening article about bone density loss in athletes), a better strainer for my sink, and headed into wine land. Wine ain't cheap neither, but that's to be expected. Hopefully the oft mentioned "worldwide wine glut" will bring down prices -- still waiiiting!
And then I saw it: Box Wine! With a $5 mail-in rebate,
Black Box Wine's cabernet looks like a good deal. At $13 for 3 liters after the rebate, it would have to be downright horrible to be a bad deal. That's just over $3 per 750ml for the math impaired.
The box is all black, very classy looking I'm sure, but aren't we supposed to not care what's inside a "black box"? Isn't there an "airplane crash" connotation here? Not the best marketing move ever.
Pizza in the oven, I get started. With your thumb you push open a perforated hole near the bottom on one side of the solid cardboard box, pull out the spigot, remove the saftey seal, and set it up on a convenient edge of countertop. Wine gushes into your glass with an easy press of the spigot's button. I'll spare you my tasting notes, let me just say
it ain't bad! I would even say it's a very good table wine. Perfect with a just baked "it's not delivery" pizza. Give it a whirl, or stop by my place for a glass.
Rodent Update
So far, the rodent is proving too smart for me. But I haven't found any new piles of mouse droppings, so perhaps he moved out. What would inspire a mouse to move out, you ask? Maybe he saw the traps and thought, "oh man, I was hoping for a challenge, this guy is too lame, I'm going next door where I'll have cats to mock and life will be exciting."
Hey, it could happen!
On another note, when I got home Monday, the landlord was waiting for me. That kind of thing makes me nervous. He said he needed to talk to me, and that he hated to be the bearer of bad news. That's the kind of thing that really makes me nervous! Turns out the boiler for the radiator heat in my house was shooting flames out sideways, rather than the preferable and customary upwards across the heat exchanger. So he'd shut it off and will bring in a boiler expert of some kind to look at it. That made for a rather cool couple of nights until I left to visit Mom for Thanksgiving.
When I got back home Friday night, the heat was on. Yay! Although the house was still rather cool, I figured the heat had just been reactivated and it would warm up. Nope! Come morning the radiators were still barely warm to the touch, and the house was quite cold. So I wandered into the basement with a flashlight to take a look. The solution to the "flames shooting sideways" had been to crank the gas nozzle 3/4 closed, meaning not much heat was being generated. I carefully opened the valve to get maximum heat without letting any of the flame out of its proper place, and a few hours later my house is feeling properly warm again.
It would be nice to have that crappy old boiler replaced with a new high efficiency model, but I doubt the landlord will spring for it. C'est la vie.
Albuquerque and the Mouse
The first thing about Albuquerque is its funny name. Is that Arabic?
Quote:
There are two theories: The first it that the name is derived from Abu al-Qurq ("The place with cork [oak groves]"). The presence of the second 'r' supports this. This is what many Spanish sites on that town say. The other is that it is derived from al-Barquq ("The Prunes"). The presence of the first 'r' supports this. There are also claims that the name is Latin, from Alba Querqus, meaning 'white oak'. The presence of a first 'r' supports this. Afonso de Albuquerque (d. 1515 C.E.) the Portuguese admiral, imperialist and statesman is named after this town. In the USA, the city of Albuquerque, New Mexico was named in 1706 by Francisco Cuervo y Valdés after the viceroy of New Spain, Fernandez de la Cueva, Duque de Alburquerque. In the 1800s, the first 'r' was dropped from the name.
(Thanks to http://baheyeldin.com for that.)
The second thing is that it's dry. Very very dry.
The third thing, when you open your container of hand lotion, is that the altitude is a bit high -- splurt! -- 5000 ft above sea level.
The work was typically hard, and typically unrewarding. There was plenty of unwinding after each long day, most of which I'm sure I can't remember.
The Mouse:
Still at large. I didn't have time to buy traps before departing, but now two are set in strategic locations. Result of the first night: Nothing. Durn, but mice are crafty. I even bought some peanut butter just for 'em.
No Results
So far the mouse has eluded capture. I guess the lowbrow rodent doesn't like brie. Shocking!
The scampering gnawmeister has been increasingly bold, however, making a morning appearance in my bedroom today. I can't take any more of this mouse smack-talk. He's piled last straw upon last straw, goading me, flaunting his cohabitation of my abode.
Extreme measures are required.
I leave this afternoon for 4 days of torture in Albuquerque as a fencing referee. When I depart, the house will be a smorgasbord with spring loaded death behind every plate.
There's a Mouse in the House
About a week ago out of the corner of my eye I noticed a small, dark, fuzzy shape sprinting from underneath my fridge to underneath the stove. I suspected a mouse, but I haven't faced a mouse in years, and I had glimpsed it almost subliminally. However, a couple days later a strange noise got me out of bed, and I realized it was the little mouse happily chewing on something under my refridgerator. This morning I found tiny mouse droppings on my stovetop, and that really is the final straw. I don't have anything in particular against rodents, aside from the fact that they carry disease, but pooping on my stove?
No guest in my house is allowed to do that!
Coincidentally, yesterday in the news there are articles about
male mice "singing" in the presence of female mice. Kind of neat. But I'm sure calling this a mouse's "love song" is like calling a begging teenage boy's horny, whiny plea to his girlfriend a "song".
Back to my mouse, I searched online for mousetrap info, and found this:
Steve Smith's Humane Mousetrap. I've set up my own version made from items on hand, baited with brie (I figure any mouse in my house would have properly fine taste), and am waiting to see what happens...
