Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back

Of course, you’ve hear the expression “curiosity killed the cat".  We know the expression to mean that sticking one’s nose where it doesn’t belong is most likely to be detrimental to one’s health.  Curiosity has long been considered bad-mannered and offensive. 

However, the original phrase was 'care killed the cat'. Care not being defined by it’s contemporary meaning but by care meaning worry or sorrow.  For example, in the Wizard of Oz when Professor Marvel was speaking to Dorothy while consulting the crystal ball he referred to Auntie Em as being careworn . . . "She's - she's wearing a-a-polka dot dress. Her face is careworn."

"Care killed the Cat. It is said that a cat has nine lives, but care would wear them all out."

At some point care turned into curiousity.   Perhaps the inception was when Shakespeare made reference to "care killed the cat" in his play, Much Ado About Nothing: "What, courage man! What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care."

But why a cat?  Did it lick a light socket or crawl into a microwave? Why didn’t curiosity kill the dog, hamster or bunny?  Well,  we all know that cats are naturally very inquisitive and cautious animals. Potentially slinking about and being nosy could lead to their demise. 

Either that or . . . 

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No-Bake Chewy Cookies and Cream Bars

One 16 oz package of Oreo

5 cups Large Marshmallows

4 tablespoons butter

Place Oreos in food processor and pulse until ground.  Melt marshmallows and butter in microwave until puffed, about 1 1/2- 2 minutes.  Remove and pour in ground Oreo Cookies.  Stir to combine then transfer to a foil lined 8×8 inch baking pan.  Let set up for 10 minutes.  Remove bars out of pan with edges of foil and cut into squares.

Changing a diaper is a lot like getting a present from your grandmother -- you're not sure what you've got but you're pretty sure you're not going to like it.

The other day I stopped at the grocery store for a few items and when I stepped out of my car I nearly put my foot on a bulging, sopping discarded used diaper just lying on the ground in the parking lot . . . just waiting for me like some reeking landmine.  Really??  Could someone possibly be as lazy and/or inconsiderate as to leave a sh!tty diaper just laying there?  Unfortunately yes, sad but true.

I would like to believe that perhaps a harried mommy inadvertently dropped a stinky poop bomb while loading her groceries and dealing with a squirming child.  Alas, this isn’t the first time I’ve come across such a thing; and not just in parking lots . . . but in the woods, on the beach and . . . yes . . . even on the floor of rest rooms.   It seems that it’s too difficult to walk a few paces to discard a poopy package into a waste receptacle.  Obviously it’s easier just to drop it on the ground for the magical diaper fairy to clean up.

When my son was in diapers I came prepared for all manner of emergencies; especially, the standard supplies for changing diapers . . . including a plastic bag to seal up a dirty one just in case there wasn’t a garbage can available.  They sell diaper disposal bags but I just repurposed plastic grocery bags.

 

I heard tell of a man who spied a woman changing her baby's diaper on the back of her car and then just toss it on the ground.  Outraged, he called out to the woman to throw the diaper in the garbage can that was just steps away.  The woman just made a nasty reply and continued her way into the store.  So, the man picked up the diaper, unfolded it, and smeared its disgusting contents all over the windshield of the woman's car.  Then he simply drove away.  Imagine the diaper tosser’s reaction when she came out of the store and saw her car. Priceless, I’m sure! 

Anyhoo  . . . the point is that there are people that willfully and inconsiderately dispose of toxic, biohazards at the drop of a hat . . . or diaper, as it were.  If you’re one of them, you know who you are.  Knock it off!  It’s disgusting!

Sterling Silver and Swarovski Crystal Tree of Life

If you're interested in buying one, please email me at cher@stuffbycher.com.

Firewater Friday . . . Nice to know there's still a little poetry left in the world

I have a friend . . . for the purposes of this blog I’ll call him Bobby.  Bobby is a funny guy; quick witted and always good for a good ol’ belly laugh.

Much like myself, he’s a jeans and sneakers kind of person; which is to say, that he doesn’t acquire much along the lines of dress clothes.  So, recently when he was dressing to go to a wedding he pulled a suit from his closet that was somewhat dated but still in good shape . . . and it fit him.  So it worked!

And by dated . . . I mean like Miami Vice.  If you lived under a rock during the show’s six year run allow me to explain.  The main characters of the series, Sonny Crockett and Rico Tubbs, created a fashion trend that was unique and defined the look of the show.  Crockett’s usually wore an Italian sport coat with a pastel T-shirt underneath, white linen pants, and slip-on sockless loafers.  The man also appeared to have a very dull razor because he had perpetual stubble on his overly tanned face.  Tubbs wore a suit, sometimes a tie and also sported less than masculine pastel colors.

Anyhoo, Bobby attended the wedding in Miami Vice style . . . and I’m sure he looked quite fabulous. 

Bobby’s brother-in-law was also at the event . . . I’ll call him Biff.  Biff was a dressed-to-the-nine, Armani suit kind of guy. An Armani suit is known for its slim fit and made with from high quality wool, cashmere, silk, linen, or cotton . . . a low end price tag is about $1500. 

Biff is obviously fussy and fastidious about his appearance and wants to present a certain image.  So, when Bobby spotted a small hole in the jacket, he exercised uncharacteristic restraint and held his tongue so as to not embarrass Biff.

However, when Biff spied Bobby in his spiffy Crockett get-up he commented, “Hey, the 80’s want their jacket back.”

So, Bobby promptly replied, “Hey, the moths want their dinner back.”

Biff started to sputter and cough and asked what the fluff Bobby was talking about.  Bobby pointed out the hole and Biff promptly removed the jacked and ineffectively tried to smooth the threads so that the hole wouldn’t be so obvious.

That oughta learn Biff a lesson. 

So, this one's for Bobby!!

Kahlua And Cream 

2 oz Coffee Liqueur
2 oz Cream


Pour all ingredients into shaker. Fill a Tumbler almost full of ice cubes, and dump ice into shaker. Shake well and strain drink into cocktail glass.

You've come a long way, baby.

My mom has been a cigarette smoker for as long as I can remember.  When I was a kid, she bought cigarettes by the carton . . . Virginia Slims . . . and kept them in a kitchen cabinet.  Of course, it was understood that we, my sister and I, were not to touch them.

No worries there.  Because, although my sister and I were the poster children for sibling rivalry,  one thing we did agree on is that cigarette smoking was a dirty, nasty, filthy habit.  Neither of us did anything to disguise our disgust with our mother’s smoking and we both constantly lectured her on the dangers of puffing the cancer sticks.

Imagine my shock when I came upon my sister casually sucking on a lung dart like she was some sort of femme fatale in a film noir movie.  Oh yeah . . . I remember my reaction as clear as day . . . “I’m telling, Mom!!”

Her head whipped around, she flung the ciggie to the side and the chase was on.  And, lordie, you bet your sweet bippy I was running for my very life.

If Mom found out that my sister was tokin’ a ‘rette she was toast . . . you didn’t mess with my Mom and you didn’t touch my Mom’s stuff.  That woman could dole out punishment like no one’s business.

So I ran around the house with my sister in hot pursuit.  She must have caught me and beaten me senseless because I have no recollection of the outcome of the chase and I don’t recall her being punished for that little breach of the rules.

As gross as I think smoking is, when I was in my early twenties I thought I would give it a go.  I swiped a ciggy from a girlfriend’s pack and puffed that smokestack all the way down to the filter.  And, I got a wicked good buzz . . . wowzers.  So, I copped two or three more over the course of a week and squirreled them away for when I could smoke them in private.  Yes, in private . . . I didn’t want to look like a hypocrite after all!  My opportunity to smoke those babies came and I sucked them back one after the other . . . boom boom boom . . . oh yeah, my head was floating . . . ah the bliss.  

Uhm . . . yeah, for about five minutes.  And, then all I felt like doing was barf up a lung.  Oh my goodness, I was sick . . . for hours and hours.  I’m pretty sure I was close to death.  I had to suck it up like nothing was wrong because there was no way I was going to tell anyone I was sick and what had caused me to be sick.

I can’t even think about smoking a cigarette without gagging just a little.

Lesson learned?  You betcha!  That’s not to say I’m opposed to enjoying an occasional cigar . . . but that’s not quite the same thing. 

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Cher’s Roast Beast Sammy

I shameless adapted my recipe from the Campbell’s Dripping Roast Beef Sandwiches with Melted Provolone sandwich.  Why?  Because I am me and must not conform and I adjusted the recipe based on the ingredients I liked and what I had on hand . . . I’m sure the Campbell’s version is good by the results of mine was nothing short of astounding.  NOM!

• 4 Tablespoons Butter, Softened
• 2 Teaspoons Chopped Garlic
• 1 Can Progresso French Onion Soup
• 1 Pound Thinly Sliced Pepper Crusted Roast Beef
• 4 Soft Hoagie Rolls
• 8 Slices Deli Provolone Cheese
• 8 Chopped Hot Pickled Pepperoncini

Heat the oven to 400°F.

Mash the garlic with the butter and spread over two hoagie rolls cut in half.  Place in oven until brown.

Top with two slices of cheese each and place in oven until cheese is melted.

Heat the soup and beef in a large skillet over medium-high heat to a boil. Turn down to simmer until ready to use.

Divide the beef evenly among the rolls. Top the beef with the cheese slices and place the sandwiches onto a baking sheet.

Bake until the sandwiches are toasted and the cheese is melted.  Top each sandwich with 1/1 of the chopped peppers.

Spoon the soup mixture onto the sandwiches.  

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy

Yuengling is one of my all-time favorite beers.  If you know me, you know how much I like beer so that’s saying something. 

The problem is . . . and it’s only a small problem . . . is that it’s not available in New England.  In order for us to have it, we have to haul a couple cases back to Connecticut when we’re visiting places that do sell it.

The Yuengling brewery hails from my home state of Pennsylvania;  Pottsville, Pennsylvania to be exact.  It holds the distinction of being the oldest brewery in the United States and is the second largest American-owned brewery . . . second only to the Boston Beer Company, makers of Sam Adams beer.

Starting in 1829 the founder David Yuengling, a German immigrant, made beer for thirsty coal miners in Pottsville.  In the 1940’s Yuengling was a struggling company barely making ends meet.  Now it’s sells 1% of the country's beer.  And for good reason . . . it’s outstanding beer!

Yuengling, pronounced ying-ling,  is German for "young man"; which is appropriate considering that it’s a family owned company that changes ownership by the offspring of the previous owner. However, currently there are no more young men to carry on the family tradition -- only young women.  The current owner is training his four daughters the ins and outs of the brewing buiseness and one day they will take over . . . will the brewery then change it’s name to Yuengdame?

Just askin’  . . .

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Yeungling Drunken Pork Chops

5-6 Pork Chops- Bone-In Or Boneless, Your Choice

Salt And Pepper To Taste

1 Bottle Of Beer (The Darker The Beer, The More Flavorful The Sauce. I Used Yeungling Black And Tan. 1/2 Cup Brown Sugar

1/3 Cup Ketchup

Bread Crumbs

Marinate the pork chops in the beer overnight (or longer)

Put a little bit of extra virgin olive oil in the bottom of a skillet. Coat the chops in the bread crumbs.  Reserve the beer.

Brown 10-15 minutes on each side.

While pork chops are browning, combine beer, ketchup, and brown sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to boil and turn down to a simmer.

Remove pork chops from the pan.  Add the sauce and thicken the sauce a bit. In a small cup, combine 1 TBSP of cornstarch in 1/4 of water. Stir to combine and add to boiling sauce, whisk so no lumps form.

Serve over mashed potatoes or rice. And top with the thickened sauce