Okay, so remember last week when I said my son was doing fine after he and his sister moved out? Well, I was wrong. They went to a camp in Santa Cruz and apparently both came back with COVID. Of course, I didn't know that when I shared an ice cream sundae with him. They both ended up moving back home with us for a few days while we all wore masks and kept the windows open. In the end, I never got sick, but like the first time around with COVID, I got these strange symptoms without testing positive or getting sick.
The first time, I had COVID toes, stomach problems, rashes out of nowhere, phantom smells, and fatigue. Then, when I finally got COVID a couple of years later, I lost my sense of smell for good. Until the other night.
When we had the fire at FlapJacks nine years ago, there was this terrible smell of burnt grease. Well, the other night, after not being able to smell for two years, that is all I could smell. I kept going around the house and the yard to see what was on fire. It turned out to be a phantom smell, but how does your mind remember a smell from nine years ago? Honestly, I have not smelled anything like that since the fire nine years ago. Everyone is fine now, but man, I just wish I had a clue.
Aug 24 - 31
Ok, so I told you how I was going to get goats to keep the weeds under control at my son’s house (he is doing well by the way). What I didn’t imagine was how popular these goats have become. People from the church across the street will come over with food for them. Other people will show up and apologize because I catch them feeding the goats. Someone I met down the street told me, “oh by the way, don’t worry, those goats will never go hungry”.
The problem is I now have fat, lazy goats that no longer do their job.
Aug 18 - 24
A few weeks ago I wrote about a new dog going down our street and how our dogs were not adapting well. So I decided to rewrite “A New Kid In Town”, by the Eagles
Everyone is talking bout the new dog in town
There is a new dog in town, every pooch is talking
There is a new dog in town, everyone is barking
There is a new dog in town, every pooch is listening
There is a new dog in town, every pooch is sniffing
There is a new dog in town, every pooch is pissing
There is a new dog in town, I don’t wanna hear it
There is a new dog in town, I don’t wanna hear it.
Howlhooooooo
Howlhooooooo
There is a new dog in town
Aug 11 - 17
The following has been edited by ChatGPT:
Fifteen years ago, we moved to the country and got three acres. Something I had always wanted was my own orchard. I grew up in Grass Valley surrounded by fruit trees, so I thought, Now I can do the same.
So, I planted 100 fruit trees—every type of fruit imaginable. Eight different kinds of apples and peaches, so I’d have fresh fruit all the time. It was a great idea—except for one problem: we live in the country, which means we have about a million fruit thieves.
I’ll have hundreds of plums on a tree, but by the time they’re even close to ripe, they’re gone. I’ve tried everything and just can’t seem to win.
Last week, I spotted one lonely pluot, high up on a tree. I got a ladder and retrieved it. This was a gorgeous piece of fruit—until I turned it over and saw that the entire back side had been chewed away. To hell with it, I thought. I’ll just eat the other side. You can see where this is going.
On Tuesday, I felt really tired. Wednesday, I developed a fever. By Thursday, I was feeling awful, but I still thought it was just the flu. By Friday morning, it was clear I had some sort of infection.
I called Kaiser for antibiotics, but they told me I had to go to the ER. Off I went, where they tested me for everything—except a stool test. They sent me home and told me to bring in a sample the next day.
Proudly, I returned to the lab—only to be told I had failed because I’d put it in the wrong pouch. Ten hours later, I brought it back in the right container.
Sunday, I got the results: Salmonella. I thought, “well, at least they found something.” But it occurred to me that if those little buggers had just washed their hands, this never would have happened.
So, on Monday, I put up signs in the orchard that said “Wash Your Hands” with little bottles of sanitizer scattered around. A little education never hurts.
Folks, as of the end of this month, FlapJacks will be opening back up for dinner on Friday and Saturday nights. When I sold Sunrise, the new owner laid off much of my crew, so I’m trying to find them some extra hours.
Like before, we’ll feature different specials each week along with our regular menu items.
I’ll keep you posted.