Air Fryer Bacon

Of all the air fryer bacon recipes on the Internet, this is one of them.

I needed crumbled bacon for a breakfast recipe I was making. I couldn’t find crumbled bacon in the grocery store, so, I decided I would have to make my own.

Sure, I could have bought pre-cooked bacon, but who’s going to read a post about using pre-cooked bacon? “I opened the package and used the bacon in my recipe.” As boring as kissing your sister. Unless you’re into that step-sister porn thing, but that’s another post.

I also have a quirk about having to make one recipe in order to prepare the recipe I actually want to cook. I’m looking at you, Mr. Bacon and Egg Salad, with your bacon mayonnaise recipe that is required for the salad. Since air fryer bacon is just one ingredient, I let it slide. This time.

Actually, it’s one ingredient and one piece of equipment, the air fryer. And I just happen to own one. Behold the majesty of the Emeril Lagasse 4.8 quart air fryer, in egg plant.

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Memories 01-24-19

The things that pop into my mind at any given moment fascinate me.

I was completing on on-line survey. I had to laugh at one of the questions asking which choice was not an ice cream flavor. It gave the choices of chocolate, vanilla, mint chocolate chip, and carpet, not necessarily in that order. In fact, carpet came first. I’m guessing this is to spot robots and people filling out surveys just for the heck of it, breezing through, clicking the first choice, just to earn a reward. Whatever. All of the other questions are multiple choice, though.

So there I am, clicking along, putting some thought into my answers. A written question comes up. Again, whatever, but out of the blue, this one asks about a childhood memory. I wrote down the first thing that popped into my head.

Eating rock candy with my Grandfather on a store-front porch in Amish country.

I looked at what I wrote. I was stunned. I knew that memory was in there, somewhere, but how did that just pop up as the first thing in my mind? This was a very long time ago. My Grandfather passed away when I was very little, maybe four or five years old. This had to happen when I was three. There’s not much else I remember from that long ago. The Moon landing. Nixon leaving the White House. That’s pretty much it.

Some hypnotist/analyst will have a field day with me someday.

My Review of “Ceres 2525,” by Micheal Lee Nelson

My return to Science Fiction reading.  I gave it four stars.

I enjoyed reading “Ceres 2525.” There is lots of action; I can easily see this book become a movie. The chapters go back and forth between Ceres Tarsis’ current adventure of being kidnapped by pirates, and events from his life that lead up to his being kidnapped. I believe Nelson handled this well, using chapters detailing Ceres’ past to foreshadow what’s coming up in the next present chapter. The transitions are seamless, leading the reader along and aiding the flow of the story.

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Stranger in a Strange Land: My Review of “On a Red Horse” by Monica Corwin

Reading outside of my usual genres and getting over myself.

I decided to read a genre I’ve never read before: Romance.  I cheated a bit, and went for Paranormal Romance, which, I think is another way to say Fantasy.  I guess paranormal is used to avoid confusion.  Fantasy means swords and sorcery, but Fantasy Romance is redundant.  I guess.  What the fuck do I know?  Then there is Contemporary Fantasy, and Urban Fantasy, which might mean the same thing.  I don’t know.  I’m not claiming to be an expert. 

Fortunately, I follow a lot of authors on Twitter, independent and otherwise, so there was no shortage to choose from.  A lot of the paranormal romance authors seem to specialize in either vampires or dragon shifters.  Lots and lots of dragon shifters.  I mean, you can’t even swing a dead werewolf and not hit a dragon shifter.  And if there are vampires, werewolves aren’t far away.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  I can see the romantic potential of all three species, but, if I was going outside of my Sci-Fi/Fantasy comfort zone, I wanted to go all the way. Continue reading

My First #SlapDashSat: 09-08-18

Just trying out new toys I find on the internet.

I found a writing game on Twitter called #SlapDashSat.  You can search the hashtag, or, check out the main page @SlapDashSat.  There is no theme, no rules, just free form writing.  Just whatever happens to cross your mind at the moment.

A lot of what I read reminded me of conversations from a Tarantino movie.  You know what I mean.  The conversations where the characters just seem to be bullshitting to pass the time.  I like Tarantino movies, so, I figured, what the hell.

And then my mind went blank.

I turned to my trusty fortune cookie fortune collection and found this gem:

Always stick around for one more drink. That’s when stuff happens.

I thought of a quick scene.  I’ll admit it: I didn’t go straight to Twitter with my scene.  I roughed it out, did some editing, walked away from it, came back, cut some stuff, rinse and repeat.  I got the scene into a form I liked and went with it.  

Brevity escaped me that day.  Ah, well.  Some people liked it.  That’s cool.  I posted it late in the evening, so, some of the likes didn’t come in until the next Saturday.  That’s cool, too.  I tried it and I liked it and I’ll try it again.  

And I encourage you to check out the game @SlapDashSat.

P.S Wakelet failed me.  If you know of another app to put Twitter post collections into WordPress, please share in the comments.

Sweet Memories

This started out like a Hallmark movie, but got dark quick. Could easily be an opening scene, maybe even on Hallmark.

Evil Pat was intrigued.

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By Sandy Wilson

‘They’re from the garden dad. We still plant them just like you used to. Around the edge of the patio. Remember?’

It was unlikely he would. Geoffrey Simms had dementia. Slumped in the care home high-backed chair he gasped, dragged air into his lungs. ‘Your mum …’

‘Mum?’ Jenny was six years old when she left. Ran off with another man they said. The fragile fragrance of the sweet peas must have triggered a memory, she thought.

‘Dad, please tell me tell me about my mum.’

‘She’s buried.’

‘Buried? Buried where, Dad?’

‘The patio. I buried her under the patio.’

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Stupid Images That Pop into My Head That Give Me a Laugh: 08-03-18

I keep coming up with the first in a series, but never continue the series.

I’m at work finishing a report when the Security radio channels announces, “That patron has found her Grandmother and they are now leaving through South.”

I don’t know why, —

That’s not true.  It’s because Evil Patrick is constantly waiting in the shadows to pounce on something like this.

— but the image of a woman walking towards the South exit carrying a cremation urn bursts across my imagination.  “I found her.  She was on the smoking patio.  Gramps was using her for an ashtray…”

Oh Grampa, you rascal you.

OK, maybe not that evil, but certainly dark.  It kept me entertained.