Bathroom Destruction

[IainH]

I've done the ice-water bathing in the military. Even being raised in Alaska, I don't dawdle in cold water bathing, but I can get the job done.

Today, the maintenance folks came over and filled in the gaps in the sheetrock. They say Monday or Tuesday another outside contractor will come to put up the backsplash and do the mud-n-taping on the walls.

In December 1984, I spent a long weekend in a hunting cabin deep in the backwoods of NC, it had no running water, an outhouse and a creek. I got muddy crawling through brush to and from the ambush site. I didn't take the buck, the other guy did and it took both of us to haul it back to the cabin. I had the fastest "bath" of my life and I believe I replicated the Rebel Yell in that water. First, last and only time I will ever deer hunt as long as they sell meat in plastic wrap.

I have family members that hunt once a year and often bring back meat to share when they do. I don't complain.

I never turn down venison, my Pappy would make the best breakfast sausage with it, unfortunately the recipe was in his head and he never wrote it down. I could ask him, he is right behind my left shoulder in an urn on a bookshelf filled with his books and things he made. Sometimes, I think it's a little morbid but, most of the time I don't think about it. Occasionally, I'll say "How ya doin' Pops"... silence..."that good, huh?"

If it was good breakfast sausage, the recipe probably had sage, fennel, salt, and pepper. Maybe some time. Ask Pappy. If he doesn't answer back, I think that means he agrees with me.

Ninja edit: thyme, not time, although time does play a part in cooking, doesn't it?

My Daddy was a great cook and didn't use recipes, he just added a "pinch" of this and a "dab" of that until he was happy with the taste. The only time he followed recipes was when he was baking where accurate measurements are necessary. I couldn't replicate his deer sausage any more than I could replicate my Grandma's cream corn, nobody can. They put their hearts into their food for the enjoyment of the people they loved. 
 My wife makes good biscuits, I make good gravy and together we make a plate of awesome. People love my gravy, I take a long time and exacting care in getting the rue cooked just right and then add a little milk and keep adding a little bit until its perfect. On Thursday night I tried making biscuits, I mixed enough for 12 but, made such a mess I wound up with only 5 of the ugliest cathead biscuits you've ever seen. The remaining 7 biscuits were stuck on my hands, the bowl and that thing my wife uses to roll out dough on and the rolling pin! Yes, I floured the shit outta everything and it didn't matter, that stuffs dadgum glue, sheeesh! They tasted fine but, I announced  "young'uns, I don't know how your Mama does it and I tell you this.. I will never try making biscuits again". I can whup up a pan of Duncan Hines Brownies but, that's the extent of my baking abilities.