Kaimusailing

s/v Kaimu Wharram Catamaran

Vessel Name: Kaimu
Vessel Make/Model: Wharram Custom
Hailing Port: Norwalk, CT
Crew: Andy and the Kaimu Crew
About: Sailors in the Baltimore, Annapolis, DC area.
27 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
21 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
18 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
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28 December 2021 | St Marys, GA
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01 December 2021 | St Marys, GA
27 November 2021 | St Marys, GA
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19 November 2021 | St Marys, GA
14 November 2021 | St Marys, GA
09 November 2021 | Somers Cove, Crisfield, MD
05 November 2021 | Somers Cove, Crisfield, MD
30 October 2021 | Somers Cove, Crisfield, MD
Recent Blog Posts
27 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Venus de Milo Chowder

It was cold drizzle day, but up North in Crisfield the temperatures are 10 to 15 degrees colder. We will touch freezing here now and then, up there they will hit 20 degrees regularly. Cornelia Marie texted me about Sunsplash’s electric bill. $52. She said most boats are 5-10 dollars. I’m paying [...]

21 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Martha's Golobki

Somewhere previous I had said, maybe they are just trying to irk me. That was about stealing $.50 bowls and other sundry ersatz items. The broken refrigerators I removed from Kaimu and placed in the Free Pile were removed by a fellow known as The One Armed Bandit, holy cow, I didn’t know how to dispose [...]

18 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Knight Moves

The weather has been chilly and I was afraid my pizza dough wouldn’t rise. The communal kitchen was nasty, the kids in the boatyard were playing in the outdoor sink that the workmen use to wash up. They were making mud pies. They not only stopped that sink up, they affected the kitchen sink. The [...]

16 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Salt and Batteries

Life with the new phone. It’s a lovely phone but I am easily seduced. Photos are amazing. If only we could have a camera with instantly interchangeable lenses and touch screen selection of zoom level. Have to see what it will do at night, just the same as my other seductives.

11 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Galaxy S20 Plus Unlock

New Year’s Eve Day, Friday, the post office is open till 5 PM. Mariola needs to pick up a sausage and any packages for Henrik. I have tracking information that says my new (old) phone had left Jacksonville at 4 AM, it must be at the post office by now. We arrive there and the parking lot is empty. [...]

02 January 2022 | St Marys, GA

Happy New Year, or Else

I'm up before the crack of dawn, in fact it is 3:23 AM. This happens a lot and some nights I don't sleep much at all. Goes with the territory. I usually use my phone to surf the web. I have lists of bookmarks and keep up on a variety of things. Jack van Ommen for instance has sailed right into [...]

Venus de Milo Chowder

27 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Chilly
It was cold drizzle day, but up North in Crisfield the temperatures are 10 to 15 degrees colder. We will touch freezing here now and then, up there they will hit 20 degrees regularly. Cornelia Marie texted me about Sunsplash’s electric bill. $52. She said most boats are 5-10 dollars. I’m paying for Sunsplash like she’s paying for her house electric. I said I’m OK with the bill. I was missing Crisfield, but I can wait till April. I said maybe Kaimu can join the fleet in Somers Cove Marina.
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I stayed aboard and inside with the little propane heater keeping the galley warm, sort of. It had become difficult to get the heater lit with its starter button, so I have to use a barbecue lighter and the starter button to get the flame started. There is a delicate timing to get it to light. Life shouldn’t be this difficult.
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I had leftover golobki and tried to microwave one of them aboard in the galley. The 400 amp hours of battery should be able to handle it, but no, the microwave kicked off due to low voltage. It could be due to bad connections between the batteries.
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There is a sticking point at freezing. A lot of thermal energy has to be removed for water to freeze. It also takes the same amount of energy to thaw. So, when your marina is starting to freeze, it takes a long time, it might not totally freeze, it takes really cold air to freeze water. And when the thaw happens, it takes a lot of really warm air to melt the ice.
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It was time for me to organize another Pizza Night, but it was chilly and it’s hard to get going in the chill. My screen protectors for the Galaxy S20+ were due in the post office, so I borrowed Robert’s vehicle to go to the post office. It wasn’t there. I went to the small local Winn-Dixie to shop. I didn’t get pizza ingredients, I got ingredients for a soup. It was a kale and kielbasa soup by the NY Times.
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I had to bring all the apparatus and ingredients up to the Breezeway. There was no one there, not even the new renter. I had a cutting board that needed cleaning, so I washed it off with the hose out of the building. Get organized, I decided to prep all the ingredients and then start cooking them in the big stock pot on the single electric hot plate.
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What to cut up first, well the kale will be last, it is a big bag of kale. The onions are simple game for me, just peel them and throw away the skins, they have already been cut across on the longitude, cut across the equator, big slices, then continue with latitude slices. 8mm slices. Then stack them up, big slice on bottom, radially sever them.
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The garlic is peeled and minced. The kale comes up last, awful. From Winn-Dixie the Kale bunch is huge, just take half, and that is more than enough. Trim the leaves from the huge stems, and, this I learned recently, roll up the leaves in a tight roll, then shave off it. Keep going. Kale is good for you. You end up with a big bowl of kale shreds.
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The kielbasa is split lengthwise and the pieces are split again, then crosscut them into little spoon sized bits. 3 potatoes are cubed. The kielbasa, onion, and potatoes are put in the stock pot with a drizzle of olive oil and brought up to temperature. Then the kale is put into the pot and the pot is full right up to the top. The juice from a can of chick peas is poured to give some water to steam the vegetables.
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I return to Kaimu to get the pepper grinder and open a can of Cento crushed tomatoes, return to the Breezeway. The kale is starting to wilt and I mix the pot up making sure the bottom isn’t burnt. When the kale is fully wilted there is room for the chick peas and crushed tomatoes. 4 cups of water and a heaping tablespoon of Better Than Bouillon, chicken flavor and one of mirepoix flavor are added and mixed in. The pepper is dusted over the surface and the soup is allowed to simmer for a while. I text the Dirty Dozen that there will be soup in the Breezeway in lieu of pizza.
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Eloisa and her dog Blue arrived and she brought a second hot plate, some Irish butter, and a loaf of artisan bread. I have the bowls on hand that I raise the pizza dough balls in, but only two spoons. She gets packs of plastic ware. The aroma coming from the soup pot is making me want to get some right away, but that would not be polite. I get some anyway. It is good. I get a slice of bread fried in butter. Yummy.
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Henrick arrives with Helicopter Dave and Roughrider Lynn. The pizza oven is lit with its cover off to warm the Breezeway while the temperature outside drops. A box of merlot is drained. The conversation wanders around significant pilots and their exploits. Unbelievably the stock pot is almost empty, all that soup is gone.
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The next day clean up was done right at the Breezeway using the outside garden hose and warming dishwater on the hotplate. I went for a moderate bike ride and waited for my replacement laptop chassis to come in by FedEx. They arrived and I unpacked them and saved the bubble wrap, there must have been 50 feet of it to wrap around the two laptops.
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On board Kaimu I powered the chassis up and swapped working hard drives in them. They powered up and worked fine, but were BIOS password locked and wifi and bluetooth were disabled in BIOS. Not to worry, I merely have to swap motherboards with the two damaged laptops.
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I also realized that with yesterday’s soup all gone I had to cook again. I had my eye on a seafood chowder recipe from Venus de Milo restaurant in Swansea, MA. Gee, Cuddily was in Massachusetts before she came down to Crisfield and she likes to make fish chowder, so I sent the recipe to her and told her where it came from. She said that was where her wedding reception had been long ago.
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I went on the restaurant’s website and it looks like the pandemic has really hurt them. The owner wants to sell. Interestingly, Emeril Lagasse, who comes from nearby Fall River, worked at the restaurant when he was starting out. I couldn’t get Venus de Milo’s minestrone recipe, but Emeril has several on line and they are probably good.
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I put the ingredient list on the new phone and borrowed Robert’s car to shop, do laundry, and refill a propane tank. First I hit the Post Office and got my package of screen protectors and a birthday card from my favorite sister. Then I went to the laundry and cashed 5 bucks for quarters and put my load in and started it. Out I went to the Winn-Dixie to shop for ingredients for the chowder. Onion, celery, red potatoes, light cream, tomato puree, clam juice, scallops, shrimp, and lobster, only I bought imitation crab for the lobster. I was up to $46 for a pot of soup, sheesh.
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Back to the laundry, put it in the dryer, hit the road for Tractor Supply, refill propane tank, $18 now, back to laundry, fold, head to the yard. Park at Kaimu, offload propane and laundry. Forgot that Eloisa had way laid me at the laundry, she just happened by, and gave me a stick and a half of Irish butter. I had to make a roux and had butter, but it kind of hit me as I left the grocers, what had I forgot? I had butter, but that Irish butter, make a roux with that, it will be amazing. The butter was now in the laundry basket as I drove up to the Breezeway with the ingredients. That meant I had to come back, but there were other items I needed, like the pepper grinder.
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At the Breezeway I set out the ingredients and decided to prep the veggies, thin slice celery, small dice a white onion, and fine mince the rest of the head of garlic. Put them in one small bowl. Dice red potatoes, small dice, set aside in two small bowls. Put the frozen scallops in a saucepan of water, the scallops are in a sealed plastic bag, let them thaw out. The bag of small shrimp is frozen, but it is easy to separate them while they are in the bag, let them try to thaw. The imitation crab is in a block that is frozen and I work at the block, remove it from the bag, and tear it apart into pieces of fake crab that have to be cut smaller, soup size.
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I had to buy clam juice in 1 cup bottles and I needed about a quart. Expensive. Capped, but not twist off, searching for maybe a tool to rip the tops off. Eloisa comes in, preceded by her dog, Blue, and runs off to get a “church key”. She returns, the tops come off, the juice goes into the stock pot. For some reason the hotplate is not up to the task of boiling the juice. It’s going to take all afternoon.
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I remembered using the pizza oven as a heater, just pull off the top, light it, and let it rip, lots of heat. I did so. The stock pot was not boiling, just wafting off vapors. I threw the scallops in and let them poach. After a while I tasted one. Let them cook more. When I had one that was cooked I tried to ladle the rest out into a large plastic bowl. If only I had a slotted spoon. Eloisa ran and got one. Thank you. Now put the shrimp in. The semi frozen shrimp just made the stock pot stop, no boiling, no vapors. I waited a while and realized the shrimp was precooked, I just had to get them out into the bowl with the scallops. Then the same with the imitation crab meat. Exactly the same.
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The potatoes were supposed to be next, but I needed boiling stock. I moved the stock pot onto the hot pizza stones, exposed with the oven top off. Surely they would make the pot boil. They did not. I now put the prepared onion, celery, and garlic in the saucepan with Irish butter. It quickly warmed up and started to cook. I wanted to cover it so that the veggies could sweat. Eloisa was going to find aluminum foil to make a cover, but I found one of the pizza pans and it served the purpose.
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The stock pot on the pizza stones never boiled. I tasted a potato cube and it was not cooked. The onions, etc. were removed from the hot plate and the stock pot was put there. Strange, the hot plate had no trouble boiling anything, but now the stock pot was somehow refusing to boil.
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I changed the regimen of the recipe. They wanted tomato puree mixed into the onion mixture, then add flour to make the roux. I added the flour before doing anything further with the onion mixture. Let it cook, stir it, scrape the bottom, keep the veggies and the congealing flour moving. If you can go 5 minutes it will make all the difference. I wasn’t counting.
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The stock pot was almost vaporing again, sitting up on the pizza stones. I began ladling cups of stock into the saucepan, mixing with a spoon, getting the roux to get to know it’s new stock, mix, mix, mix, and it thickens, add more, keep at it. We have run out of stock.
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Somehow I had inadvertently bought about twice as many seafood ingredients, but still only had 1 batch of stock to make the soup, so I now needed to get more liquid. I used the outside garden hose to fill a prep bowl with about 3 cups of water. I added that to the roux and waited while it came up to temperature.
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I waited and continued to mix the roux from time to time. It was getting close to dinner time, but as yet I had no customers. At some point I decided to add the roux to the stock pot and mix. I tasted. Hmm. I added some garlic salt. I let Eloisa taste. She thought it could use some sherry. Well we all could.
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I kept stirring and thought maybe now I can add the tomato. In it went, I ladled some of the soup to clean out the can, mix, mix, mix. I tasted the concoction. Not too bad. Eloisa was on the phone with someone and elected to drift out behind the Breezeway. Like to have her opinion. Keep mixing and scraping and stirring. I of course tasted it every step of the way. I made a small bowl and added a dollop of the cream, mixed the bowl, tasted. Good, poured the rest of the cream into the stock pot, mixed. Mixed it up real good.
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She came in from the phone call and I suggested she try some, look at it, it’s much different now with the cream. I had unplugged the hotplate so the soup wouldn’t boil and break the creamy liquid. Yeah, it was good. Henrik came in and had some of the soup and said it was excellent. People are so polite.
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Robert had some and said it was very good. He is a trained cook/chef and I respect his judgment, even if he is just being polite.
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Helicopter Dave and Roughrider Lynn never showed up, but I knew they couldn’t leave their UK real estate show on PBS. The stock pot was now low, not depleted, but maybe half of the soup had been consumed. Eloisa and I had a long conversation. It’s like me and Cuddily, but now I am the counselor.
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The next day the utensils were cleaned up and 3 tupperwares were filled with the chowder and into the fridge it went. I was receiving texts such as, soup was awesome. This recipe is a keeper. Eloisa brought me to a small bakery about 2 miles away from the boatyard and we had had coffee, she a muffin, me a cheese danish. We went for a drive and I opted to return to the boatyard and work on my laptops. Eloisa took off, who knows where.
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It was chilly so I thought maybe I could do the work in Kaimu’s dinette, but there was more room in the Breezeway. I had two pristine laptops that were BIOS locked and three damaged laptops. My plan was to swap motherboards to eliminate the BIOS problem. I tore down one of the pristine machines and kept careful notes on where things went when putting it back together. Then I tore down a damaged laptop. I began putting the pristine laptop together with the replacement mother board and it was a very tedious repair. I was careful. I estimate it took 5 hours. I packed up my stuff and left the Breezeway just as the renter returned.
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I am typing on the pristine repaired laptop and all looks good. It’s like a new laptop. I am not eager to tackle laptop #2. The image is of the chowder in the stock pot. Notice the pink color.

Martha's Golobki

21 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Chilly Drizzle
Somewhere previous I had said, maybe they are just trying to irk me. That was about stealing $.50 bowls and other sundry ersatz items. The broken refrigerators I removed from Kaimu and placed in the Free Pile were removed by a fellow known as The One Armed Bandit, holy cow, I didn’t know how to dispose of these derelict items, but the bandit took them. What does he do with them, or the fifty cent bowls, I’m sure he got those too. I don’t want to kill him, unless he brings them back. What does he do with all that crap?
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People get ripped off, but the real damage is not the loss of material wealth, it is, for someone like me, the realization that there are heartless people, takers, not givers, who poison society. Liars and cheats. It’s not political, but I judge those people who should be doing their public jobs, and the judgment is not pretty. Joe Biden is under a lot of pressure. He has been a public servant for a long time, but not without some blots on his resume. The Trumpists are on him like like fleas on a dog. It doesn’t matter who the Democrats put in office after the twice impeached D. Trump had to leave, the Trumpists ignore any truth, they like a liar and a cheat. We are continually getting ripped off, we the people, yet we vote for our leaders who are dishonest and corrupt. It’s not new.
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I was waiting my turn at the communal bathroom when Eloisa came by with her new bike. It’s a Jamis Explorer 3.0. She needed air in the tires. I met her over by the machine shop, turned on the big compressor, ran the air hose outside, and filled her front tire to 55 psi. She filled the back tire to 65 psi. That’s the pressures written on the sidewalls of the tires.
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We took a slow ride through Land’s End, a nearby fairy tale neighborhood with beautiful houses, most nicely landscaped. Her dog Blue was getting a workout. We returned to the boatyard and put him inside so we could go for a real ride. Out of the boatyard, across New Point Peter Road, into another neighborhood, nice, but not as nice as Land’s End, and we came out on the road again.
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You set the pace, I said, knowing that all too often the male rider goes off and the female has to try to match him. She set a pace that was remarkable, but I knew she couldn’t keep it up. I could gut it out for a while. We came to the stop sign at the end of the road and I said turn right. We continued on North River Causeway to a gated community called Cumberland Harbor. We were not allowed inside the gate, but we could see a beautiful fountain. Must be nice in there.
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Eloisa had said something about getting refreshments, but the convenient store, the closest place, was two miles up the road. I asked if she wanted to go the extra two miles and she said yes. I had never biked to the store or the Pirate’s Point restaurant there, this would be the first time. It was a beautiful day in the 60’s and not much wind to hold us back. I am not aerodynamic, but she is.
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Up the road, stop at the store, she bought water and something else. I said I was rejuvenated and we rode off back to the boatyard. There was a slight breeze in our faces. It was not a struggle I hadn’t endured before. We were in the boatyard and at Robert’s boat. Oh, you found someone to ride with, I wasn’t sure who he was addressing. I had mentioned that I thought about making stuffed cabbage rolls, golobki. He said, there’s the vehicle.
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I returned to Kaimu and felt I needed a rest before climbing the swimming ladder to get on board. Whew. Get my wallet, compose a shopping list, review Martha Stewart’s Golobki recipe. Add what is needed to the list. Off I go to shop.
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Earlier I had a conversation with Mariola, maybe the best cook or chef ever, plus, she’s Polish, who better to talk to about Golobki. She kind of turned her nose up on Martha Stewart. We use dill as the spice, she said. I have dill. Some don’t like it. Some don’t like cabbage.
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In the store there was supposed to be meatloaf meat mix, veal and pork, it’s one of the specials for the weekend, but I couldn’t find it. The store was very neat, noticeably. One of the guys neatening the store was in the meat department and I mentioned that there was no meatloaf meat mix. They went out of their way to find out why. It’s not in for the weekend yet, they said. That’s OK, I had a pound of ground pork, that’s what Mariola uses.
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By the time I got back to the boatyard it was too late to start making the stuffed cabbage rolls. That’s OK, I needed a break anyway. There was still a few slices of leftover pizza.
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The logistics of making the stuffed cabbage rolls gets complicated when you have a kitchen out of commission, a boat galley that’s cluttered with no counter space, and the need for at least two burners, possible in the galley, but the out of commission kitchen only has a single hot plate.
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I can probably make do with just two burners, but I have to make rice, sautee onion and garlic, have a big boiling pot to blanch and peel off cabbage leaves, counter space to prepare all this stuff. Doing it all at one time isn’t necessary, making the rice and blanching the cabbage is all that has to be done before starting with the sauteed onion and garlic. The rice, ground pork, sauteed onion and garlic, and blanched cabbage leaves are assembled into a large pot that is lined with a few cabbage leaves. These are sacrificial, expected to get burned.
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The assembled cabbage rolls fill the bottom of the pot. A sauce is put together of crushed tomatoes and poured over the cabbage rolls. Bring to a boil and then simmer for 1 hour. That’s he way it’s supposed to work.
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I borrowed Robert’s vehicle to load it up with a plastic tray of ingredients, a hotplate, a stock pot, a 5 gallon bucket, the 3 old 66 lb batteries that I had to strenuously lower from up on deck, and a chopping block, purchased to replace the stolen pair. I used a hand truck to move the batteries inside the Breezeway. I attached my smart charger that displays battery voltage when it’s not plugged into AC. They all read 13 volts.
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I plugged in the hot plate with the stock pot with water to blanch the cabbage. I used the chopping block and my dollar store prep knife to finely chop celery and green pepper. An onion was diced. A granny smith apple was thinly sliced and then minced after removing the core. Two cloves of garlic were minced. A saucepan of saffron rice had been previously cooked and was thrown into a large bowl with the other ingredients. It then sauteed the onion and garlic.
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It took a long time to bring the stock pot up to boil, then the cabbage was tossed in after removing the core. 2 ½ minutes, remove the cabbage and peel off any leaves that have been cooked enough to come off. Back in for another 2 1//2 minutes, peel off more leaves. Continue till the cabbage is all peeled. The smallest leaves are put in the bottom of the drained stock pot. 2 cups of cabbage water are reserved. The remaining leaves are stuffed with the rice mixture which includes a pound of ground pork. The mixture was spiced with garlic salt and fresh ground black pepper. I could have used more.
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After filling he stock pot with the rolled up cabbage, the minced apple was sprinkled over them, and then two cans of Cento crushed tomatoes were poured over them. The cans were rinsed out with the reserved cabbage water. About a tablespoon of dill was spread over the sauce. The stock pot was on the hot plate to bring to a boil, then cook for an hour.
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It took a long time for it to come up to temperature. Eloisa and her dog Blue were playing in the Breezeway. She had set up some mood lights and pandora music. Her dog was put to the test, getting his green tennis ball. She would throw it, hide it, put it in the 5 gallon bucket, put it in the 5 gallon bucket overturned, he really worked at it and found a way to get that ball.
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I was texting prospective customers about when the stuffed cabbage would be ready. Finally the mixture started to bubble. It would be ready around 6 o’clock. The renter of the Breezeway came in and said what’s cooking tonight, and I said, Golobki, which is Polish and pronounced Gowumpkie. He went inside his rental and came out with the assault rifle. It always gives me the chills to see that weapon. He went outside with the owner’s son, Clayton, and they began shooting at a plywood target.
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Roughrider Lynn had stopped by to say they couldn’t make it, they had to pick up some free range organic eggs that are in high demand. After I figured out when the cabbage would be ready I texted her that it would be about 6 and she replied they would be there. Robert came down from his boat and when I said 6:15 he motioned to return to his boat, but it was just a joke, he stayed and helped play with Blue.
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Henrick and Mariola showed up, now here are legitimate Polish folk, and she is maybe the best cook I’ve ever met. Her critique would be important. Soon it was 6:15. I had mixed a small sour cream into the sauce, asked if anyone wanted to be the guinea pig, then scooped a large golobket out of the pot with some of the sauce. We were using paper plates and my plate was in my lap and starting to fold up. Lynn said I should do something or I would be getting a shot of hot sauce where it would do the most damage. I set the plate on the table next to me. It was hot, thermally, but tasty. It was not like any stuffed cabbage I had ever made before.
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Soon others began trying the concoction. Clayton asked when the pizza would be ready. I said it’s not Pizza Night, but try some of this. I put a small portion on a plate for him. He ended up giving it to Gizmo, his faithful dog. Actually, the dogs made out well on this night. Blue, Gizmo, Lady, all sampled the Polish cabbage. Clayton showed off his new bike and ran around in the Breezeway. Several of us had seconds, several others did not. Mariola passed around chocolate with nuts, don’t let the dogs have any.
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The box of wine seemed to have no end. Mariola stood there with an almost empty bottle of some liquor and an almost empty glass in the other hand. I said I could take a picture, but I didn’t want to piss her off. She said the last one caused the people in the laundromat to ask what she was up to. I know, my bad.
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The Dirty Dozen started to return to their home bases. Rocky, owner and chief crane operator showed up to gather his son. He seemed tired. We talked a bit. I took away the saucepan with the rest of the golobki, the pepper grinder, the laptop with the recipe still on it, maybe to be rescinded, and I walked the bicycle back to Kaimu. What a day. Oops, I forgot my new phone, bike back, get it.
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Our warm weather came to an end and we had chilly drizzly rain. It was time to putter around inside the boat. The image is of the pre-sunset clouds out the back of the Breezeway.

Knight Moves

18 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Chilly
The weather has been chilly and I was afraid my pizza dough wouldn’t rise. The communal kitchen was nasty, the kids in the boatyard were playing in the outdoor sink that the workmen use to wash up. They were making mud pies. They not only stopped that sink up, they affected the kitchen sink. The effluent from the workman's sink was backing up into the kitchen sink. I bailed 15 gallons of water out of the sink and used a clean 5 gallon bucket to catch my wash water as I cleaned up my pizza utensils.
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Once again I combined warm water, honey, yeast, and 3 cups of flour, making sure that all the flour was in contact with moisture. Then I went out to get my toppings and some wine for the pizza chef.
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When I got back I oiled 4 pizza pans and 4 small bowls, the prep knife, and my hands. I added 2 more cups of flour to the dough and dove into it, kneading it manually until it was homogeneous. I took a break for a while, then prepped sweet red pepper, onion, mushrooms, and mozzarella. The cutting board and 4 bowls of prepped toppings as well as some pepperoni were marched from the communal kitchen to the Breezeway. A second trip brought the 4 bowls of dough on the 4 oiled trays. I also had a shopping bag of spices and a small tupperware of crushed tomato. That would not be enough, I made the last trip by bicycle bringing an opened can of crushed tomatoes up to the Breezeway. Earlier I had dropped off a box of burgundy. I already had clear plastic cups that were meant for epoxy work, but worked well for consuming wine.
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The outer door of the Breezeway was shut to keep out the howling wind, at about 15 knots. The temperature was just under 60 degrees and falling. I started the oven a half hour earlier than usual to warm up the place. I poured a glass of wine and took a break. Then a certain black dog came sniffing around, it was Eloisa’s Blue, and then she appeared, thanked me for some wine, drank it, and disappeared to the communal shower. The usual customers “forgot” it was pizza night, but it was the wind chill that kept them away. Henrick showed up and said Mariola had hurt her back.
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I began with a margarita pizza with fresh basil put on the pie for just the last 5 minutes of the bake. It came out with a subtle taste that I hadn’t been able to achieve before. Next I made a pie with all the veggies on it, sweet red pepper, onion, and mushrooms. Then the renter of the Breezeway came by and I know he likes pepperoni, so I made a pepperoni and onion pie with the fresh basil placed right on the dough with crushed tomatoes drizzled over it. Then the pepperoni and onion were put on top, then the mozzarella on top of it all. We now had 3 pies made and only 4 people to consume them.
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I still had one more pie to go and it got all the rest of the toppings. You could feel that it was the heaviest pie. I baked it extra long to make sure it was cooked through and through.
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We were huddled near the 1000 degree oven, careful now. Finally it was time to go. There was plenty of pie left over for breakfasts. Before I left I tried out the new phone taking a night picture. It worked well, but it is sensitive to any movement, it senses that it needs a longer exposure and any movement of the phone will blur the photo.

Salt and Batteries

16 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Gale Winds after Polar Outburst
Life with the new phone. It’s a lovely phone but I am easily seduced. Photos are amazing. If only we could have a camera with instantly interchangeable lenses and touch screen selection of zoom level. Have to see what it will do at night, just the same as my other seductives.
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We are into a somewhat winter weather scheme, 40’s at night 60’s daytime. Not too bad. The difference here as opposed to Crisfield, much further North, is that I could bike around Crisfield with no problem, here I am in the North River Marsh and it’s about a 5 mile bike ride just to get out into civilization. Some people love it. It is a unique situation. I call it the Gulag, Dodge City.
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Pizza Night with store bought pizza and chilly weather wasn’t that bad. Wine was the lubricant. I was coming out of a week of digital hermitage trying to unlock the stupid phone, now it was unlocked and I was happy. .
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One of the services I purchased to help unlock the phone didn’t work and they refuse to refund me. Not only that, on PayPal they have it set up as a subscription, and I will be paying every month about $30. Of course I ended that subscription, which I can do on PayPal’s site. Also I requested to open a claim, I dispute the charge. We’ll see how that turns out. Not the end of the world. Two other services also didn’t work, but they refunded me. I carefully went through my Pay Pal activity and noticed a couple other subscriptions which I canceled.
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One thing about the new phone, it has a big battery which takes a couple hours to charge up using the inductive charger, but the phone seems to run forever. The larger screen makes typing text much easier and viewing YouTube more enjoyable.
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An OTG adapter was on its way and USPS tracking indicated it was sitting in the PO on
Monday. A couple of fellow boatyarders agreed to pick it up for me, but when they asked, the PO said there was nothing for me there. Finally I went there myself and explained it might be in something as small as a letter. It’s a tiny adapter, USB-A to USB-C, with a grounded pin that signals the Android phone it’s plugged into that the phone can be host to whatever is plugged into the other side of the adapter. The PO responded to me and produced the letter sized package that had the little adapter in it.
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I returned to the boatyard and stashed my groceries at the back of Kaimu near the swimming ladder. I returned Robert’s vehicle near the Breezeway and then I saw Eloise, actually Eloisa, with her dog playing in the yard. She had a tennis racket and a tennis ball, batting the ball out for her dog to retrieve and eagerly come back to do it again. She said she had rotator cuff damage in her shoulder and couldn’t throw the ball too much without causing more damage. She picked the racket up at Goodwill for a dollar. I had to go back to Kaimu to stow away groceries. I had chicken, onion, celery, carrots, and mushrooms to make a traditional chicken soup. I also had two jars of “Better than Bullion”, one was roasted chicken, the other was basically mirepoix ingredients, a kind of vegetable bullion paste. Should make a good soup. I have to keep the batch size down, I’m just now devouring the last of the borscht that I made a week ago.
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If I am going to launch Kaimu, I have to clear the decks, also clear the space under the crossdeck. It’s kind of sheltered but when it rains, water drips down all over the place. I moved the old refrigerator to the free pile, then moved the replacement fridge down off the deck to the ground and over to the free pile. The replacement needed an old spring clamp to keep it shut, so I included that with my donation. A while later I noticed someone had taken the spring clamp. It was old and the spring was rusty. Nothing is safe.
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When you start up a new phone, Samsung makes it very easy to transfer contacts, etc., to the new phone using its Smart Switch app. I found that Webb Chiles wasn’t in my contact list, so I had to find one of his emails of a while ago, and got him back into my contact list. There was a YouTube video going and that went along with an email to Webb. It was a performance of the Tornadoes of Telstar, an iconic instrumental of the mid sixties.
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Webb eventually replied, that’s not me. I had to tell him how it happened. Typical. There was another clip of the Tornadoes, more recent, and the gray haired guys played their one and done hit, maybe they have been doing this for 60 years. At least it’s not Green Onions. Google it.
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Radio Bill once said I was cryptic, but I’m not into that.
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The worst thing is the conjunction of my birthday and a bit later, Valentine’s Day. Watch out for cops if you are in Chicago. Down in the boatyard, Dodge City, Apocalypse Now, the No-See-Ums are assassinating the yardbirds. You don’t need a flu shot, you’re in the boatyard. Probably the covid variant is having trouble here too. We’ve all been feeling a bit ill for a while, hard to figure out. There is one bathroom for all, a condemned kitchen that I sometimes cook in, some porta-johns, not a place for a fragile heart.
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First I have to get old, then I have to get right with my heart for Valentine’s.
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Not happening.
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Not the not getting old part.
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It has been a day since I wasted the laptop with a spray of wine. I don’t remember how I did it, but maybe all I need is a keyboard. What a shame, I had so much to write.’
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I spent more time with my lovely phone. The laptop was not responding. I was almost forced to do some meaningful work. I got the new batteries into the galley, stacked up on one another like a black rectangular pagoda. I could continue with work that causes my back to make crunching noises, or make soup. I made soup.
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Helicopter Dave was using the communal kitchen to make an herbal cancer substance, I don’t know much about it, but it ties up the hot plate with which I was going to make my soup. He said he needed 20 minutes to come to a stopping point, so I rode the bike around the yard. It was chilly in the shaded areas, but in the sunlight I felt fine with shorts and tee shirt.
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I was given the go ahead to use the small dirty kitchen. I noticed the sink wasn’t draining, but I had to rinse some stuff and prep veggies. I did so using the minimal amount of water, but the sink kept rising. My chicken thighs weren’t skinless and boneless, but cost the same as the ones I didn’t buy. These must be special. They went into the stock pot with the right amount of diced onion, sliced carrot, and sliced celery. I prepped some mushrooms and threw them in. I used a chef’s tongs to keep things from burning to the bottom of the pot. I knew the thighs had to get cooked, and more importantly, get singed a bit. I kept at it, from time to time, while spending time with my new lovely phone, how lovely. Don’t ruin the soup.
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Helicopter Dave wanted to know how soon he could get the hotplate back. Like, wasn’t I done with my soup yet? Conflict.
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The communal kitchen sink was filling up, not draining, it looked pretty bad, yet I didn’t need it so much, cooking, not rinsing anything, yet. I biked to the communal bathroom over at the other end of the yard and came back with a black commode plunger, just the right size for the communal kitchen’s sink. In I went and plunged, and plunged, and the result was no draining of the sink, but something black and stinky was coming up in the contents of the sink. Plunge, plunge, plunge, just more bad stuff. Can’t anybody else write this, I’m feeling faint.
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I worried, what would I do when I had to use the sink, it was filling up, not draining, plus, things might fester over the next few hours. How can I cook here. I don’t know if I really had any ancestors in the Gulags, in Siberia, but now I’m here, what could be worse.
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The soup wasn’t affected, all the ingredients went in nicely prepped, it was the sink, looking like a cesspool. Get away. Bring the stock pot full of soup out into the open, onto the communal porch, set it down. I was hungry. Late lunch. Two bowls of that soup. Great soup. How do I rectify this?
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I had to get a 5 gallon bucket and set aside the contents, most of which were things that were saved from something else, set them aside, clean the bucket, rinse, use the bucket as a kitchen washbasin. Clean all the gear used to make the soup, clean everything.
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In the end I took a couple of 5 gallons of sink waste and poured it off where it wouldn’t do any harm.
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So, I had great soup, but no takers today. Cold weather, the soup will be better the next day.
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I wanted to write about eggs, because I awoke at 3:30 AM, and that wasn’t as bad as waking at 4 AM. It’s just the way I felt. But eggs, what about them. What do I care?
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Cuddily had called me and now two nights in a row, the news from Crisfield was dire. The big New Year’s bash at the American Legion resulted in 20 covid cases. Cuddily was OK, but spending Friday night at home alone with a Paul Newman pizza. Her heart is in the right place. I was concerned about Eve, and others that partied that night. It sounded like my Bad Crowd was intact, but now wary and laying low, no pun intended.
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I texted Cuddily that she was a good egg. Eggs are like people, only different. Both are easily counted and handled by their outside shells, but both are much more mysterious inside. The inside of an egg is the universe of life. The inside of a human is the universe.
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The next day started chilly and warmed up. Blue skies with wispy cirrus clouds. More jet contrails, but not as many as before the pandemic. I spoke with Helicopter Dave and although I was eager to watch a football playoff game later, he said he couldn’t get NBC with his antenna. Hey, he’s a couple hundred feet closer to the TV station. He can see my antenna from up on his deck. See my antenna, it was about 35 bucks at Walmart.
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I had prepared a Panasonic CF-C1 for Roughrider Lynn and Dave and it died while they were on their adventure. They gave it back to me. These laptops are great, the hard drives can be swapped out in seconds, batteries, 2, can be hot swapped. The screen can be rotated to make it a tablet. There is a wrist strap so that you can hold the tablet with one hand while using the other to make entries. I took their batteries and hard drive and both worked in a good chassis. Their chassis was bad. Now I had my CF-C1, ruined by too much wine, and theirs, both just need a new chassis. Bingo, on eBay I find a pair of chassis with no hard drives, that’s OK, for a hundred bucks and about 20 bucks shipping. Bought and done. Long live CF-C1.
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I was avoiding the battery replacement job in the galley, actually in the dinette. I had hoisted the batteries up on deck and they were ready to go. I hemmed and hawed, but I needed to do it. Hoist the batteries with the staysail halyard and lower them into the galley forming the rectangular black pagoda. It’s a simple job, unscrew one of the solar panel leads into the charge controller, start with the dinette’s port side seat which has a couple of batteries. Unfasten the wires from the batteries, making sure not to mix them up. Remove the old batteries. Replace with the new batteries, hook up the wires. Move over to the starboard side of the dinette and do the same with the batteries there. Simple. Each battery is about 66 lbs and in an awkward position. I spent a lot of time looking for tools and buying panasonic laptops.
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When working with heavy items that you are reluctant to work with, at some point the reluctance kind of falls away and you feel strong. What a big mistake. I’ll be taking ibuprofen for a few days. It’s not anger, but it’s close, it’s determination, I’m not going to let these stupid batteries defeat me, ugh. This was strenuous work, tedious fiddling with the bolts that mount the wires. Lots of wire. All the batteries are connected together along with the charge controller and the inverter. I went crazy and cut off a couple of bolts that were too long for me to deal with in a patient manner. I used the angle grinder with cut off wheel, spraying sparks on my favorite Hawaiian shorts. Should have worn something else. I was thinking about how they ignite the big rockets at the launch pad with showers of sparks, I hope that doesn’t happen.
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Also it was time for the big playoff football game. I reset the TV set and put it on the channel that Helicopter Dave couldn’t get. As the game started I finished up the job, connecting the last of the batteries and reconnecting the solar panels to the controller. It was late in the day and there wasn’t much solar coming in, only about a half amp to the batteries. They quickly charged up to 12.7, and held that charge as the sun set.
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I began drinking wine. We are forecast to get hit with big wind and rain overnight and into the day Sunday. I’m already achy, having a weather front come in doesn’t help, doing yoga postures with 66 pound batteries also doesn’t help. Wine helps.
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One of the batteries is pregnant, or looks that way, it’s big and round. A relic for some future anthropologist to discover. “We have here an icon, a pregnancy from the rectangular black pagoda discovered in the old marsh dig. We wonder what those people were worshiping, what fertility cult was surviving in that mud world.”
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I won’t be able to get everything properly ready for the big storm, but I don’t care. The batteries are taken care of. I will care even less if this wine has any effect.
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The image is of the Northern part of the North River Marsh taken with the standard lens camera of the Galaxy S20+. Because Sailblogs shrinks images to about 700 pixels wide, zooming into this image on the blog will result in blocking, pixelization. However, zooming into the raw image shows incredibly sharp detail even when zoomed in as much as possible. The cloud detail is very sharp.

Galaxy S20 Plus Unlock

11 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Chilly
New Year’s Eve Day, Friday, the post office is open till 5 PM. Mariola needs to pick up a sausage and any packages for Henrik. I have tracking information that says my new (old) phone had left Jacksonville at 4 AM, it must be at the post office by now. We arrive there and the parking lot is empty. I push the front door open, they leave that open so box holders can get their mail. The rest of the interior is locked up. There is a notice that the post office will close at 2 PM today, but packages can still be picked up at the “Blue Dutch Door” up till 5 PM. What the heck is a blue Dutch door. We find it, it is the only blue door and then I see it is a Dutch door, that is, the top half of the door can be opened while the bottom remains shut. A note says push the button for service, so we do so. After a long while someone opens the top door. Mariola and I are wearing our masks, I guess to protect ourselves from each other. We give the postal employee three Polish names and they have to write them down, too complicated.
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After another long while she returns with two packages for Henrik but nothing for us. I give her my tracking number and she leaves again. Later she says it isn’t here yet. Bummer. Will have to wait until Monday.
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On Monday I was frantic to get transportation to the post office again. I not only have to buy ingredients for the pizzas, I have to buy replacements for my bowls and measuring cups. I keep these in a sealed box in the communal kitchen with a bunch of loaner books on top to deter anyone who would want to take these things. Hard to believe, but someone did take my plastic bowls from Walmart, my fat separating cup, and earlier, my Hamilton Beech mixer. I bought replacements at the dollar store, total: seven and a half bucks.
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It was a chilly day and I was afraid the yeast wouldn’t cooperate. I had borrowed a bowl from Mariola to start the yeast along with honey and some flour.
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I did get the new phone from the post office and it was gorgeous. It was not a Galaxy S20 FE, or Fan Edition, it was a Galaxy S20 Plus, a much different and much more expensive phone. I found the phone was PIN locked, but otherwise it looked very much like a $1,200 cellphone. Samsung has tried to keep ahead of the hackers and have made phone security an issue and it’s much more difficult to unlock your phone if you forgot your PIN. In fact, it is almost impossible to unlock a locked Samsung phone of recent vintage, and the S20 Plus is very recent.
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The dough had risen in Mariola’s bowl. Well, I had been away a while and given it a lot more time. I threw more flour in, hadn’t bought a new bag of flour, grateful that there was just enough. I put olive oil on my hands, the new bowls from the dollar store, the knife to cut the dough when it was ready, and on the pizza pans that cover the bowls of dough, to keep the dough from sticking to all those things.
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I got about an hour of time to research Samsung phone recovery, then had to start working, prepping toppings, checking the dough in the bowls, and the bowls and the dough had toppled over in the communal kitchen. Discouraging. I put them back in their pagoda pile, making sure they had landed right side up.
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Cold winds were chilling us down. I was paranoid. They would steal my knives and anything else that was not nailed down. Still, I had grabbed a knife from the communal pile and it was much sharper than my elegant looking stainless knife from the dollar store. The toppings were chopped up quickly without letting blood out. I had new containers to pack away these things and bike them up to the Breezeway. Get it all up there. I always forget something.
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I lit the oven early to hopefully warm the place up. The external doors were closed so there was a chance for thermal heat. Eloise came by and I was glad to see her. Her puppy was itching and scratching. Maybe the warm weather was getting the flea bugs active and maybe now the cool off would shut them down. I offered some merlot, she had pinot noir. I guess we had a total of 8 liters of wine. Gotta be prepared.
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I was hungry and made a pepperoni pizza. The oven was pinned at 1000 degrees, maybe more. Mariola came up, irate, and I found out I had done something wrong. Shucks. She left. I felt deflated. Henrik arrived. He joked. We three talked. It was chilly and the oven made it so we couldn’t leave, but eventually we did.
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Up the coast, up in Crisfield, they had what they described a blizzard, but up in the I-95 corridor from Fredricksburg, VA, up to Alexandria and Washington, DC, it was a real blizzard. Over a foot of snow in areas that never see that much. Glad I’m not up there.
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Not the best pizza night, but sometimes we have to take one on the chin. The fighters say they need that, then they can go on and fight to the end.
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As a NY Jets fan I can’t regret being a fan of a team that has all the resources, like major market TV revenue, the opportunity to attract the best talent, the pick of coaches, and yet they are an embarrassment. Losers. On Sunday the hosted the reigning Super Bowl champions, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, complete with Tom Brady, the ageless quarterback that has defeated them over the decades. And so he did again, at age 44. The Jets quarterback is aged 22, same birthday as Tom Brady. The younger quarterback was impressive and effective, but in the end, give Tom Brady a minute and a half and he will kill you.
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The next day is always the clean up of the debris. Not much to clean up. The kitchen is a mess. It has always been a mess. Just clean up your own things and get out. I have to courier items from here and there to be cleaned up, and how to store them so the thieves won’t take my new measuring cups. I don’t care what they are after, I’m getting my stuff out and try to wean them from stealing.
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How could someone steal a $.50 cent gray, unattractive plastic bowl. Five of them. Go ahead and take them, but don’t confront me with them. It might be a difficult encounter. It’s almost that it can’t be an ordinary kind of taking, it’s like, we are doing this to irk you. Their problem is they are amassing ersatz crap. They have to sneak around to do this, we have been here for a while and we can figure these things out. I’ve been buying up dollar store items for them to accumulate. Do the math.
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The nights are chilly. I had to get a new high priced air mattress, about $18, to take over for my ALPS Mountaineering mattress, about 5 times more, but I’d hate to be in the alps with it now, it goes flat really fast. Why do I use an air mattress on a boat? Ordinary mattresses get waterlogged when the errant waves, some caused by dastardly powerboats, fly into the open hatch, open to dry out the bed, and now the bed is soaked with sea water. Bummer. An air mattress can be wiped with a towel and good to go. The cheap air mattresses from Walmart last a few months. Let’s get a non-vinyl mattress, hence the ALPS, still go leaky, takes longer, don’t waste your money.
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I found out that the pump to inflate the ALPS mattress takes a long time to charge up, but can run many times, as if we were on a camping trip away from electricity, so I thought it would be great on a boat. Others have gone the cheap Walmart route and that works out too. The $18 dollar one has an pump too, but it’s not rechargeable, it needs 4 D cell batteries, but you could go camping, or sailing, for a long time with a bag of those batteries.
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OK, back to unlocking the Galaxy S20 Plus, so far unsuccessful, but don’t count me out, yet. The simplest and least effective method is up on YouTube in a million posts, just forget them. Samsung won’t let any simpleton get through their security regimen. The procedure is hold power on and volume down keys until the phone goes blank completely dark. Then power on and volume up until the phone goes into recover mode. There’s tiny script on the screen. Volume up and down scrolls through the script and you are advised to select the wipe data entry, and it asks, just scroll down once and hit confirm. Data is wiped, come back and select delete cache, same thing, select, activate and confirm. It might work sometimes, but not now.
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It is ironic that I pay money to Dr. Fone, a website that purports to be able to help. No luck for me and the Galaxy S20 Plus, they might help on older phones, but not on this one. Let me add, they are not entirely honest, as well as the seller of the phone I have got, no mention of PIN lock, plus advertised as an S20 FE, but it is an S20 Plus, very different. Maybe the seller is trying to disguise, so that an owner of a stolen phone can’t find their phone on eBay, but the IMEI number of this phone hasn’t been reported as stolen, nor is it a monthly payment phone that has reneged.
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There are more aggressive ways to deal with a phone like this. Most require access through the phones USB port, but the port can be locked out. A cable, called OTG, enables a remote USB storage to become attached to the phone, and the phone is the host. There are codes and firmware, the phone can be operated from the most basic android functions, the phone can download new firmware, but I can’t believe how many versions of software there are for this phone, plus it has two chipsets, one is used in USA, the other in Europe, of course other countries have to have one or the other.
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Welcome to the world of phone hackers. The hackers are versus Samsung, so there is a give and take, an evolution of attack and defense. Samsung wants their phones to be secure, an obvious positive selling point, so they are analyzing the hackers and thwarting them as much as they can. Unfortunately they also thwart the phone owner who forgot the pin, maybe never even looked at it, and now the phone is locked. The hackers seemingly have no problem with this, they are engaged in mortal combat with Samsung software developers.
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Maybe someone had already tried to hack this phone. The seller has no eBay feedback at all, nothing, this is the only thing they have sold. I have asked for a return and rebate. However, I am on the side, somewhat, with the hackers.
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I had an urge to make another borscht recipe, one that was swimming around in my brain. I had made the pork chili soup recipe, ole mole pork soup, but if I include beets and sour cream, just can’t have all those other Mexican mole ingredients. I decided on pork, kale, onion, dill, and beets. This time I used canned beets like I had used long ago. The oven roasted beets are great, but I think reserving the liquid from the canned beets and adding it later works out pretty well.
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After I decided on what I was going to do I googled Pork Borscht, and lo and behold there were several recipes including a Ukraine Borscht, traditional, included potatoes, which I deplore. I opened 4 cans of beets and drained the bright red liquid into containers to be reserved for later. I threw the beets into a sieve in the big stock pot, added diced onion, and as much kale that had been trimmed from the stalk and chopped. I calculated I had about 3 cups of beet juice from the cans and wanted 6 cups of stock, so I added 3 cups of water to the pot. I sat out for a while and it came up to boil and steam. Probably it would be better to sear the pork with the onions, more flavor. People came by and said something smells good.
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I texted about the soup but nobody came around. It was not too much for me to put away in the fridge.
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I had subscribed to several paid phone recovery websites, but they didn’t help. A couple of them merely showed how to do a hard reset, which is common knowledge. I wanted a backdoor code or something like that. One suggestion was to use Android Developer Kit. I ended up spending over 4 hours trying to download it. I think their server is either slow or overwhelmed with requests. There are options within the phone in recovery mode to load firmware from an SD card. Perhaps this phone will never be unlocked, but not for a lack of trying.
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Behold, there is a service that can do this, progeeks.blog, you have to pay them about 30 dollars, but they are like bulldogs on this difficult task, money well worth it. Consider all my efforts, not that I’m not able or eager to solve the blocked function. It took them over a half hour of work to get it done, but I have to hand it to them, they are the soldiers. If you get locked out of your phone, then go there. Let them help you.
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The phone was now viable and I leaped on it. We loaded old apps and attributes.
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It was pizza night again. I had gone to Walmart to buy a SIM chip for the phone and pizza ingredients. It was too late to make pizza dough, so bought Walmart’s fresh pizzas, not the frozen kind. I could still fire up the oven and bake something, but I was focused on the phone. Eloise showed up while I was immersed in the new phone. She had her dog, Blue, who was doing better, from scratching for fleas, and she said it was bathing and keeping him from what’s out there. Others showed up. I have no control of the stream of conversation.
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The oven keeps the Breezeway warm on a chilly night. A box of Black Box pinot noir helps also. The conversation consists of aircraft talk, airports, Vietnam War, helicopters, and air crashes. The pizza is all gone and the wine is somewhat depleted.
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The image is of the Galaxy S20+.

Happy New Year, or Else

02 January 2022 | St Marys, GA
Cap'n Chef Andy | Unseasonably Warm
I'm up before the crack of dawn, in fact it is 3:23 AM. This happens a lot and some nights I don't sleep much at all. Goes with the territory. I usually use my phone to surf the web. I have lists of bookmarks and keep up on a variety of things. Jack van Ommen for instance has sailed right into Cuba with his little plywood boat, "Fleetwood".
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I read again some of my recent posts. There is a humor there, but I need it, and I'm making it myself, it's not like someone else is humoring me. I chuckle under my breath. I do so riding my bike around the boatyard, not now, but in the daytime.
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I was riding around and pondering something about my distant relatives of old, the Kalwasinski family from Ukraine, Crimea, and then Poland. My older brother had said our great grandfather had died of the Spanish flu in 1918, during that pandemic, and he was 115 years old. My grandfather was born in 1894, so it seemed to me unlikely that my great grandfather had sired him in his 80's. It has given me some urgency to not give up though. My younger daughter asked for some family history and my older daughter had been researching family history on her quest for Euro citizenship. She had sent me a family tree kind of thing that I forwarded to her sister. Easy. But, in the family tree was great grandfather Josef born in 1863, no way he was 115 in 1918. Then riding on the bike it dawned on me, if you were 115 in 1918, then you were born in 1803. Not great grandfather, great great grandfather. Father of the son born in 1863. Cossack warrior who retired at age 50 just as the Crimean War began in 1853, married for the first time at age 56, son born 3 years later.
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Ukranean Cossack, appointed fire marshal in Warsaw, Poland, but Ukraine and Poland were Russia then. Poland had had a nationalist government along with Lithuania under the aegis of Napoleon, but Napoleon had gone to war against Russia and lost, really badly, so Prussia and Russia had control of Poland. Warsaw was an important city. There was a lot of unrest which the Poles turned inward and improved themselves, a cultural improvement. So my great great grandfather was an important official in Warsaw during the time there was no Poland as a state, it was part of Russia, In fact, the country of Poland was not existent until 1918, when he had died.
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All this on a bicycle and now later at 3 AM in the galley on Kaimu with wine and tuna salad on Ritz crackers. Crazy.
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We are enjoying the late Fall mild weather and cannot anticipate it going forward into January and February, but if it did, it would mean we can't predict weather anymore from past experiences. Things do seem to be radically changing. Unusual weather all over the place. Maybe my lack of initiative is like some bug caught in strange weather, unable to rely on my old instincts, although I am one who it might be said does not do things instinctively, the bug ends up on its back, legs flailing.
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The artists who follow each other and try to paint something that already exists as a photograph, have trouble. Like I do. Well, I wrote that following a tempo. I really don't have trouble like they do. More tempo. I get into trouble writing sometimes when I try to do something creative, the way I would like them to do, one problem is how can anybody read it, and how can anybody look at art like that. The reader and the viewer of art have to approach with caution, just as we all have to do with life itself. Not. Abandon all caution.
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It's now 4 AM and I should probably go back to bed. I've been dissolved by wine and satiated by tuna on crackers. I've noticed lately that I need to put on some weight but I like the thinness as long as I can go around cycling. Tuna on crackers at 3 AM is not going to hurt, might help.
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Artists who paint might explain it, I just had to paint, they get rid of their angst with brush strokes, choices of colors, and textures, a lot of ways to expiate. The writer has nothing like that. Nowadays it's just text, transformed by computers, not that I would want to read my hand held pen writing, but I have stuff drawn and written that I think is great, but let's get on back to the computers and text, phones, text, and what can I do, but text, Guess I have to go back to bed my back is hurting.
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I slept till around noon and then had to make breakfast. What day is it. The no-see-ums are out, biting and swarming. I get a text to come take away the inflatable and outboard motor I had bought at a low price. The outboard motor's mounting screws are frozen to the mount on board the yacht. Rough Rider Lynn meets me on the communal porch. How can I tell her that I am rejuvinated, in love again. She knows, she agrees, we talk about horses, mainly. I have cold symptoms, she trots out all her cures. I go around to where my new (old) dinghy is and the outboard motor, clamped to a starboard outboard motor mount that is now cracking and in danger of dropping everything down into the boatyard. I am chronicling what I did and thought about. I have that methodical slow approach, but also my thoughts intrude into my actions, I have to stop here and there. I'm not concerned that nothing seems to work. I recognize the symptoms. I go out on the bike. Rosie, the mother of the artist, JenniferJJones, is hard of hearing. I am sitting, trying to get more details on a new (old) phone that I had bought on eBay. She is waiting at the communal shower. She makes flower arrangements in the communal bathroom. I don't need to go far from this area, the shower, the bathroom, and the outboard motor are nearby, but far away across the boatyard from where Kaimu has been sitting.
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I figure out a way to remove the remnants of the outboard motor mount from the clamping screws of the outboard. Then I remove the mount from the outboard. I am headed back to put it in a vise and really give it some oomph. Robert is hailing me from his boat as I go by, chicken and rice? I have cooked for Robert and he is critical, but knowledgeable, he is a trained cook. He has a friend, Eloise, who I find myself in love with. I can't refuse. I go back to Kaimu and the woodshop. Try to work. Put it down. Get a liter of merlot and a wine glass from the communal kitchen. Go to Robert and his boat and Eloise. The 3 legged dog is there. The no-see-ums are there. I am offered spray that I use to spray my exposed limbs, then spray my face with my hand up to protect my eyes.
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We have made plans for New Year's Eve to BYOB and an appetizer for 12 others, I text out, Henrik texts back "you mean the dirty dozen?".
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My fridge has died but it's too much trouble to discard it and hoist its replacement aboard. Instead I take a look at the outboard mounting bracket with frozen clamp screws. I am unsuccessful in freeing them and afraid I will break the aluminum bracket. Henrik had offered a pipe wrench, but that would damage the screw threads. I find I can further disassemble the bracket, it is like two C clamps joined to a piece that fits against the lower unit. After I separate the clamps I can put the screw lever handles into the vice and turn the bracket around the screw. Liberal soaking with 3-in-1 oil helps. I damage the plastic screw handle on one of the clamps but both clamps come free. I screw all the way to one end and then run the threads through the electric wire brush at the other end of the shop, then more oil, then they both turn easily. The broken screw handle is kind of repaired by using a self tapping screw to reattach it. I reassemble the bracket and reinstall in on the motor. I leave it there for the previous owner to marvel that the frozen clamp screws have been repaired.
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More about the phone purchase on eBay. I was looking at Galaxy S20 FE, a lower priced top of the line smart phone of a year and a half ago. I was expecting phones to begin appearing on eBay as lucky Christmas gift recipients sell off their old phones. I expected prices to drop, but it looks like they are not dropping at all, in fact may be rising. I'm not buying a new phone because I need a new phone, I'm interested in the newer phone cameras, mainly. There was a dramatic increase in photo quality when I upgraded from S5 to S8, a big upgrade. The upgrade to S20 is also a big upgrade. I could purchase a phone with a bad imei number, which means I can't register it with a phone plan in the US, but it will still work in a wifi network, and I can download apps, text, take photos, do all the things I do, but will not be able to do them without wifi nearby.
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I had already missed out on several phones, I set my auction limits based on how much I was willing to pay for that particular phone and it turned out I was missing out by a few dollars, but that's not to say the auction process might continue much higher if I set a new higher limit. So I set a new higher limit. The last one I missed out on had edge cracks on the screen and sold for 191, while I had set my limit at 176. Is that like $15, or would it sell even higher if I had set a higher limit? I now set a limit of 226. It's only money. I ended up winning a phone at 193, of course. That includes shipping and substantial tax. I think the actual phone went for around 160 something. It has a crack at the top of the screen, but I have bought cracked phones before and I know I am going to crack them further, so as long as the cracks are not excessive, buy it.
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I can't wait for it to arrive. I notice something very peculiar, there are 4 photos of the phone and one of them is the start up graphic where it says it's Samsung Galaxy S20 and should say S20 FE, but this one says S20+, a very different phone. The FE went for about 700 new, the Plus went for about 1200 new. I'd like to order screen protector and armor, but the two phones a very different, the Plus has glass with curved edges, the FE has flat glass, the screens a slightly different sizes also, and the bodies of the phones are slightly different sizes. I will have to be patient and wait for it to come in and see what's what.
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I'm feeling pretty good going into that New Year's Eve party. I remember a quote, "Lower than a Swedish dentist on New Year's Eve". This is precisely the time of year that the blues make their biggest effect. You could say bluer than a Swedish dentist, etc. What does it mean, Swedes have a high suicide rate, dentists too, and this happy Yuletime and Happy New Year is when they do away with themselves. These days sometimes they take others with them. Happy Holidays. NY Jets fans can be excluded from the Happy part of all this. I chuckle again.
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More wine a bit later. I can still dype tamnit. I'm chuggling. I know the feelings of mirth and happiness are the edge of the cliff. The stagecoach is running rampant, reins on the ground, are they going to go right off that cliff? Yeah, too much wine.
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The wine is merlot and I spelled it correckly.
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I mentioned the refrigerator that failed and I was reluctant to replace. I've got ham that might be getting a little green, cheese that will melt together, eggs that will smell bad, I need to get on with getting on from that old fridge. Hoist it down, hoist the new (old) one up. Not that easy. Old man.
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I called Cuddily, I needed a break, she dumped my call, maybe later. My break went on with talking to Ronnie, the carpenter, and finally I'm ready to roll. The phone rings. OK, she is complaining about the never ending party life up in Crisfield. Don't complain. Why don't I call Cornelia Marie anymore? I usually don't desist of doing something, but now I have to come up with an excuse to explain my erratic behavior. We talk more, I love to talk to her, but now something is different, she seems hesitant, it's the bad crowd she's talking about, am I in or out, she's not asking me, she's telling me in ways I really don't know how to comprehend. It's like I'm in Dodge City, and making do, but the old manse in Crisfield is always calling me.
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In the vector charts of the world details are allied with the level of zoom of the world, so you won't get that little neighborhood friendly zoom until you actually zoom there. I know I can't hear news of the Bad Crowd, in Crisfield, without calling there or physically going back up there. It's just a local area among all the local areas of the world.
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I ended up lowering the old fridge to the ground and hoisting the new (old) replacement using snatch blocks, lines, genoa winches, and still there was a lot of crashing, running up and down the swimming ladder to the ground level of the boatyard. I wrestled with it, but it won't fit into the pilothouse where the old failed unit was. I set it up on deck, plugged it into an extension cord and nothing happened. What a waste of time and effort. Then I realized the extension cord wasn't plugged into anything else, plug it in. The fridge starts fridging.
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I ended up bringing a wheel of shrimp to the party, in the same old Breezeway where Pizza Night happens. No one else. Eloise shows up and gives me two golden boas, like tinsel, but golden. I string them up, one on nails in the beams forming a golden M right over where I will sit. The other boa gets looped around and around a shelf. She begins warming pulled pork for sliders along with some pico de gallo. Rosie arrives with deviled eggs. Helicopter Dave and Roughrider Lynn arrive with a tex-mex cheese concoction and black chips to scoop it with. Finally, much later Mariola and Henrik arrive and she makes a drink from Paris that has lemon zest. The renter of the Breezeway brings out a large bottle of strawberry margarita.
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Just as we predicted, the party is over well before midnight. I return to Kaimu and call Hawaii. I had previously received calls from England and California. The image is of the sunset during the party.
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