I’ve had an idea for a dip for a couple of months now. I’m sure there must be one just like it somewhere but as for this one, I made it up and put it together for the Super Bowl get together that we had. It seemed to disappear quickly even though it really was a pretty large amount of dip.
Keep in mind that for a recipe to appeal to me you have to be able to dump an entire package or container or can, in at once or at least leave the measurements up to my judgment. So here it is.
16 oz carton of Sour Cream
12 oz package of Imitation Crab Meat (shredded with a knife or cut with a pastry cutter) (Or you could try stomping on it.)
8 oz pkg Cream Cheese (softened)
About 6 oz of a bottle of Cocktail Sauce. Or more. Or less.
Mix it all together and season to taste. I used garlic salt, onion powder, and white pepper. . Then chill.
TIP: Reserve 2 bites of the crab meat and 2 tablespoons of the sauce. Before mixing, dip the meat into the sauce and eat both pieces. Tell folks that this was to check the integrity of both the sauce and the meat. You can’t be too careful when it comes to the health of your family and friends. Then try the dip on a number of different crackers and chips and veggies. If there is any dip left, serve to your company.
For a printer friendly version of this recipe, retype it and print.
I'm going shopping till Friday nite. Well, isn't that what you'd call a supervisors workshop?
See ya.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Wild Blue Satellite Internet
I have spent 10 days without an internet connection. The thing seems to be miraculously working this morning so I wanted you to know why I haven't been around. The problem has been determined to be an equipment problem. The dish, or its aiming or the modem. I've been needing a service call. I've spent about 4 hours on the phone, being passed from city to city to town to technician and even to different countries all in an attempt to avoid having one of their non-existent service men come out. WildBlue doesn't seem to even have someone who can call me about coming out. Maybe sometime this week.
In the mean time I have contacted a different company who will be out to install a new system. I can't wait to make the phone call to Wild Blue saying "I know you just had someone out to fix my system, but You had your chance."
I did find out something that would be of help. If I had purchased my Wildblue service thru Directv, one of their service people would have come out. I've had nothing but perfect response from Directv since I started with them in 1996. If this new company isn't able to provide good enough reception here, I will cancel my Wildblue and then call Directv and have it re-installed and bundled thru them. At least they have an army of skilled service people to help customers. Great Plains Communications also bears a great deal of the blame for all of this. They are the local distributors for W.B.
Now to go answer some email. I was over my quota (because I couldn't get my email) so most of it was returned. I do have 55 new messages to do something with. Later kids.
In the mean time I have contacted a different company who will be out to install a new system. I can't wait to make the phone call to Wild Blue saying "I know you just had someone out to fix my system, but You had your chance."
I did find out something that would be of help. If I had purchased my Wildblue service thru Directv, one of their service people would have come out. I've had nothing but perfect response from Directv since I started with them in 1996. If this new company isn't able to provide good enough reception here, I will cancel my Wildblue and then call Directv and have it re-installed and bundled thru them. At least they have an army of skilled service people to help customers. Great Plains Communications also bears a great deal of the blame for all of this. They are the local distributors for W.B.
Now to go answer some email. I was over my quota (because I couldn't get my email) so most of it was returned. I do have 55 new messages to do something with. Later kids.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
IF
If I owned or managed an office supply store in one of Northeast Nebraskas larger towns. And if I had 3 aisles of high end office machines selling for between $100 and $500 each.
And if there were say six people all about 40 to 60 year old and standing and reading tags in those aisles and more or less looking lost. I would assume that because of their age they probably could afford any machine they were looking at and that they couldn't get all of the info they need from a little tag that has 4 lines of writing on it and a sticky note on the front that proclaimed 'Out of Stock!' Therefore I would assume people browsing in the pencil aisle could wait and I'd have someone trained to "LEARN ALL YOU CAN ABOUT EACH OF THOSE MACHINES AND IF YOU SEE ANYONE OVER THERE GO SEE IF YOU CAN SELL THEM A MACHINE."
I'd also go to the two young men leaning on the counter and talking to the pretty customer service girl and say something like, "Here, let me lean on this counter and stare at this lovely thing, that should free you two guys up to go help customers." (said thru clenched teeth)
And if I were the manager I'd be in the store to see that it was accomplished.
Now excuse me, I need to get busy online to buy a new printer.
And if there were say six people all about 40 to 60 year old and standing and reading tags in those aisles and more or less looking lost. I would assume that because of their age they probably could afford any machine they were looking at and that they couldn't get all of the info they need from a little tag that has 4 lines of writing on it and a sticky note on the front that proclaimed 'Out of Stock!' Therefore I would assume people browsing in the pencil aisle could wait and I'd have someone trained to "LEARN ALL YOU CAN ABOUT EACH OF THOSE MACHINES AND IF YOU SEE ANYONE OVER THERE GO SEE IF YOU CAN SELL THEM A MACHINE."
I'd also go to the two young men leaning on the counter and talking to the pretty customer service girl and say something like, "Here, let me lean on this counter and stare at this lovely thing, that should free you two guys up to go help customers." (said thru clenched teeth)
And if I were the manager I'd be in the store to see that it was accomplished.
Now excuse me, I need to get busy online to buy a new printer.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Conflict Resolution
So. I've been to a 'conflict resolution' training class in my capacity as a county Supervisor. It's designed to be used in thngs like contentuous hearings, employee strife and or negotiations and stuff like that.It was in Lincoln. It was taught by a Prof from the U.of N.
Also, Silly me, taking a class like this AFTER already having been married for nearly 40 years.
It has already come in handy. I left for Lincoln on Wednesday afternoon, We had lost our power (ice storm) on Tuesday nite. We went to a funeral on Wednesday morning and since there was no wind and it was 31 degrees, I felt safe taking off for the State Capital secure in the belief that the power would be back on before sunset. I was right. It came back on before sunset...today, Friday. Marilyn was home alone without power Thursday night but was able to work at the kennel all day Thursday and Friday as the power was still on there. The problem was using a candle for entertainment while at home.
The way I handled this was to get the generator out of the shed one more time and hook it up at about sundown yesterday. The good news there is that I found out it will run for at least 5 hours on a fill of gas. I've always wondered that. The bad news is that when I shut it down about noon today it was leaking enough oil to be a concern. Unattended motors shouldn't be allowed to leak oil.
Did I mention our phone is also out? It is. The good news is that we have forwarded the home phone into my cell phone. The bad news is that my cell just barely works here at home. I may have to tavel to and spend time in Cabelas or Pro Bass Shop in Omaha to answer our home phone. Bummer.
The frozen snow packed roads that are now melting to a depth of about 1 inch are more or less a watery mixture of mud. The south winds will cover the car with a dark brown frosting everytime we hit a watery mudhole. For a brief moment it turns the van into an unlit cave. It is our version of the Califonia 'brown outs' of several years ago.
All of these problems have folks around this farm a bit on edge and so I've decided to resolve this conflict by trying to keep my mouth shut for a few days. I know I'm not able to do that but I don't think Marilyn's interested in hearing about seperating 'Positions' from 'Interests' in a conflict. At least not yet.
Also, Silly me, taking a class like this AFTER already having been married for nearly 40 years.
It has already come in handy. I left for Lincoln on Wednesday afternoon, We had lost our power (ice storm) on Tuesday nite. We went to a funeral on Wednesday morning and since there was no wind and it was 31 degrees, I felt safe taking off for the State Capital secure in the belief that the power would be back on before sunset. I was right. It came back on before sunset...today, Friday. Marilyn was home alone without power Thursday night but was able to work at the kennel all day Thursday and Friday as the power was still on there. The problem was using a candle for entertainment while at home.
The way I handled this was to get the generator out of the shed one more time and hook it up at about sundown yesterday. The good news there is that I found out it will run for at least 5 hours on a fill of gas. I've always wondered that. The bad news is that when I shut it down about noon today it was leaking enough oil to be a concern. Unattended motors shouldn't be allowed to leak oil.
Did I mention our phone is also out? It is. The good news is that we have forwarded the home phone into my cell phone. The bad news is that my cell just barely works here at home. I may have to tavel to and spend time in Cabelas or Pro Bass Shop in Omaha to answer our home phone. Bummer.
The frozen snow packed roads that are now melting to a depth of about 1 inch are more or less a watery mixture of mud. The south winds will cover the car with a dark brown frosting everytime we hit a watery mudhole. For a brief moment it turns the van into an unlit cave. It is our version of the Califonia 'brown outs' of several years ago.
All of these problems have folks around this farm a bit on edge and so I've decided to resolve this conflict by trying to keep my mouth shut for a few days. I know I'm not able to do that but I don't think Marilyn's interested in hearing about seperating 'Positions' from 'Interests' in a conflict. At least not yet.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Winter Time Diversions
Cliff Morrow
My wife has been a lifelong ardent lover of horses. She grew up in Denver and had spent much of her childhood free time and money by renting and riding horses. That is up until she received a horse for a birthday gift when she was 12. That ownership led to a lifelong attraction to the hairy beasts.
Most of my childhood horse experience was gained in front of a black and white television, watching the Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Not a lot of practical experience was gained from observing the Lone Ranger unless of course you think horses should be at a full gallop, all of the time. I think "Silver" was an old barrel horse.
At our farm, we ran out of Dad's work horses in the early 1950s. The last two horses spent their final days here on this farm doing what horses do best, converting hay into fertilizer.
We did 'winter' a horse for a man for a few years back in my middle school days. Uh, middle school would have been the middle two rows of desks in our first through eighth grade country school.
Back then you could get a free horse to use doing your cattle chores in the wintertime so long as you fed and watered the mare from fall through late spring. (Incidentally I would now make that same offer to someone else who needed a horse to look at in the winter time.)
These horses were broodmares and expecting young ones, so they became too wide to ride by about April. Those few years were the extent of my horse experience. It did prove successful in getting me over the "romantic" notion in my mind of being able to ride into the sunset strumming my guitar while singing Happy Trails in two-part harmony. The main reason for my lack of continued enthusiasm is that I didn't know what I was doing, and the horse did know what she was doing. And besides, neither one of us could play a guitar.
Case in point is the day I was at a full gallop in a field of cornstalks and heading to look at the cattle on the east side of the 160 acres. I noticed that the cinch was flapping in the wind on the south side of the horse and that the big leather cinch strap was doing the same on the north side of the horse. I felt like the coyote on the Road Runner cartoons who always looked straight into the camera lens after accidentally running out into mid-air, on a chase.
I really didn't know how to ride but I gained valuable experience that day. I knew I could ride that horse at a gallop without a cinch, and that I could ride her at a walk without a cinch. I had my doubts about the 'trot' one must go through between the two. My doubts were well founded.
As my stunt riding career came to a close, my future bride was in Denver becoming proficient at riding hunters and jumpers. After we met and married, it was my desire to try to impress her with the idea of something that I had seen in a Courier and Ives painting. I was going to make a sleigh, and I would have her buy a single harness and train one of our horses to pull it. I did build the sleigh. It was sturdy and very, very heavy. I had welded it together. Farmers shouldn't build sleighs. It turned into what a training sleigh for an elephant might look like.
Marilyn was successful with her part of the bargain and the big day arrived. We harnessed the horse, placed a set of sleigh bells on the harness, put on all of the clothes we owned, (it was about zero out) and started over to the neighbors to say "Hi neighbors!" Then we answered some of their questions, "Oh sure, the sleigh, yeah we thought we'd save some money and come visit under horsepower." "Well, we were walking because the mare can't pull the sleigh with people in it, it's too heavy." "Yep, she is a stout sled." "Thanks."
As it turned out we had lunch with the neighbors and the horse then had more than enough power to pull both the sleigh and my wife and I, after we had made the turn toward home. Horses are like that. By the end of that frosty trip, I also learned that as romantic as riding in the fresh air on a sleigh might sound, it isn't. Horses constantly shed hair in the wintertime, and they don't have catalytic converters on their exhaust systems and it's so cold that the word "survival" begins to have clear meaning.
If you want to try this yourself, pick a really cold day, put on all the clothes you own, then roll the window down on your pickup for the next 20 miles. Don't forget the bells. Quite romantic, eh?
My wife has been a lifelong ardent lover of horses. She grew up in Denver and had spent much of her childhood free time and money by renting and riding horses. That is up until she received a horse for a birthday gift when she was 12. That ownership led to a lifelong attraction to the hairy beasts.
Most of my childhood horse experience was gained in front of a black and white television, watching the Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Not a lot of practical experience was gained from observing the Lone Ranger unless of course you think horses should be at a full gallop, all of the time. I think "Silver" was an old barrel horse.
At our farm, we ran out of Dad's work horses in the early 1950s. The last two horses spent their final days here on this farm doing what horses do best, converting hay into fertilizer.
We did 'winter' a horse for a man for a few years back in my middle school days. Uh, middle school would have been the middle two rows of desks in our first through eighth grade country school.
Back then you could get a free horse to use doing your cattle chores in the wintertime so long as you fed and watered the mare from fall through late spring. (Incidentally I would now make that same offer to someone else who needed a horse to look at in the winter time.)
These horses were broodmares and expecting young ones, so they became too wide to ride by about April. Those few years were the extent of my horse experience. It did prove successful in getting me over the "romantic" notion in my mind of being able to ride into the sunset strumming my guitar while singing Happy Trails in two-part harmony. The main reason for my lack of continued enthusiasm is that I didn't know what I was doing, and the horse did know what she was doing. And besides, neither one of us could play a guitar.
Case in point is the day I was at a full gallop in a field of cornstalks and heading to look at the cattle on the east side of the 160 acres. I noticed that the cinch was flapping in the wind on the south side of the horse and that the big leather cinch strap was doing the same on the north side of the horse. I felt like the coyote on the Road Runner cartoons who always looked straight into the camera lens after accidentally running out into mid-air, on a chase.
I really didn't know how to ride but I gained valuable experience that day. I knew I could ride that horse at a gallop without a cinch, and that I could ride her at a walk without a cinch. I had my doubts about the 'trot' one must go through between the two. My doubts were well founded.
As my stunt riding career came to a close, my future bride was in Denver becoming proficient at riding hunters and jumpers. After we met and married, it was my desire to try to impress her with the idea of something that I had seen in a Courier and Ives painting. I was going to make a sleigh, and I would have her buy a single harness and train one of our horses to pull it. I did build the sleigh. It was sturdy and very, very heavy. I had welded it together. Farmers shouldn't build sleighs. It turned into what a training sleigh for an elephant might look like.
Marilyn was successful with her part of the bargain and the big day arrived. We harnessed the horse, placed a set of sleigh bells on the harness, put on all of the clothes we owned, (it was about zero out) and started over to the neighbors to say "Hi neighbors!" Then we answered some of their questions, "Oh sure, the sleigh, yeah we thought we'd save some money and come visit under horsepower." "Well, we were walking because the mare can't pull the sleigh with people in it, it's too heavy." "Yep, she is a stout sled." "Thanks."
As it turned out we had lunch with the neighbors and the horse then had more than enough power to pull both the sleigh and my wife and I, after we had made the turn toward home. Horses are like that. By the end of that frosty trip, I also learned that as romantic as riding in the fresh air on a sleigh might sound, it isn't. Horses constantly shed hair in the wintertime, and they don't have catalytic converters on their exhaust systems and it's so cold that the word "survival" begins to have clear meaning.
If you want to try this yourself, pick a really cold day, put on all the clothes you own, then roll the window down on your pickup for the next 20 miles. Don't forget the bells. Quite romantic, eh?
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Out For A Drive
The shot above is taken on our lane looking south toward home. This last one is a pic of our main road toward town.
Monday, January 04, 2010
They Can't Scare Me
The local radio stations are trying to unnerve those of us living in Nebraska. But I'm not blinking. This morning as I drove Marilyn all over eastern Burt County helping her to pick up dogs to be groomed, the radio kept warning of impending wind chills nearing 30 degrees below zero with the upcoming wind and cold. I wasn't shaken because the temperature read-out on our van stayed right at a -27 everytime we ventured away from the towns and out into the bottom grounds east of US Highway 75.
By my calculations you won't need much wind added to 27 below temps to make it 'feel like' it was 30 below.
I'm sure glad I didn't move south for the winter. I could have missed out on this.
By my calculations you won't need much wind added to 27 below temps to make it 'feel like' it was 30 below.
I'm sure glad I didn't move south for the winter. I could have missed out on this.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
AH IT'S CHRISTMAS, THAT SPECIAL TIME OF YEAR
On Wednesday morning past, the forecast was for freezing rain late in the day to continue through out all day on Christmas Eve. Thoughts always turn to the loss of power when they forcast freezing rain. By Christmas morning we had escaped (we thought) because the rain had quit just before the temperature began to drop below 32 degrees. At least we wouldn't lose our power but we still had heavy snow coming for two days accompanied by three days of high winds.
We called the sons in Lincoln and told them that Christmas was postponed a day. Actually we left the decision up to them. I explained the worst that could happen is that would be snowed in with me for three or four days. Dan was unwilling to take that chance.
Christmas Eve services were called off at church, we let the Courthouse close for the whole day, and we had the snow blower tractor plugged in and ready to clear the area. Everything was great.
So, on Christmas Eve, our daughters family came down the lane for a little party. The power went out. The blizzard was raging outside. Information from the neighbors indicated that the kennel was also out of power.
We sat and layed in our living room all night where there was enough auxillary heat to keep it about 55 degrees. (a propane heater on the porch that will kind of heat the house if you open the window.) We started the blower tractor and let it run all night knowing that it wouldn't start if it weren't plugged in.
The first pic is of me, about 6 AM on Christmas. Marilyn thinks I'm out there clearing snow so I can get my generator out of the shed, loaded onto the pickup, and hooked to the power pole behind the house.
I am in fact doing that, but mainly I'm trying warming up in the tractor. It has a great heater and the house was cold when I left Marilyn and the grandchildren sawing logs under a lot of blankets.
We called the sons in Lincoln and told them that Christmas was postponed a day. Actually we left the decision up to them. I explained the worst that could happen is that would be snowed in with me for three or four days. Dan was unwilling to take that chance.
Christmas Eve services were called off at church, we let the Courthouse close for the whole day, and we had the snow blower tractor plugged in and ready to clear the area. Everything was great.
So, on Christmas Eve, our daughters family came down the lane for a little party. The power went out. The blizzard was raging outside. Information from the neighbors indicated that the kennel was also out of power.
We sat and layed in our living room all night where there was enough auxillary heat to keep it about 55 degrees. (a propane heater on the porch that will kind of heat the house if you open the window.) We started the blower tractor and let it run all night knowing that it wouldn't start if it weren't plugged in.
The first pic is of me, about 6 AM on Christmas. Marilyn thinks I'm out there clearing snow so I can get my generator out of the shed, loaded onto the pickup, and hooked to the power pole behind the house.
I am in fact doing that, but mainly I'm trying warming up in the tractor. It has a great heater and the house was cold when I left Marilyn and the grandchildren sawing logs under a lot of blankets.
In the pioneering spirit, I got out and did what needed to be done first thing Christmas morning, I hooked up the generator, and then dug out the satelite dish so the big screen would work. We have had to clear snow from the dish several times before but we've never come close to having to dig our way down to it through the snow.
The pic above on the right is of the dog getting ready to help me unload my small snow blower so I could load my generator. On the left is proof that we were successful in our labors. Our power came back on at noon on Christmas day. The only casualty was a ballast on one of our flourescent fixtures in the kitchen. I don't think it appreciated the 149 volts of power my generator was putting out. The ballast is now replaced, we continue to blow out our lane everyday because the stinking wind won't go down, and Christmas is going to happen next Saturday. Maybe.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Art Of Gift Giving
Cliff Morrow
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Christmas was almost torture for little boys, as I recall. I always had trouble getting to sleep because of course the presents under the tree would make my imagination run wild. I do not recollect that the black and white television we had had indoctrinated me into wanting anything in particular except possibly a Cowboy Bob gun and holster set which I did receive from Santa one Christmas.
Our tree would be surrounded by presents of every shape and size. Mom wasn't into elegant gift wrapping. She didn't have the time to do that. She was a farm wife and I think her main goal was the same as mine is today, to disguise the gift. That's all. To camouflage whatever was in the package.
After I had learned to read well enough to figure out what my name looked like on a tag, I became very sneaky about casually laying down by the tree and glancing over at the gifts to see if maybe my name was on one of them. Sure enough, I always had a few gifts that said TO: Cliff FROM: Mom and Dad. That information - that my name was actually there under the tree - would make it hard to get to sleep for the next five or 10 nights before Christmas.
I don't recall my age when I started wanting to reciprocate with the gift giving but it finally happened and I told Mom about it. She would remedy this by taking me along to town the next time she went grocery shopping. Somehow I had a dollar in my Cowboy Bob billfold and would have my head on a swivel in search of a gift.
Mom stopped in front of the chocolate covered cherries and told me a story about how her mother always loved them and as a matter of fact, they were Mom's favorite too. "Well, let's buy some" I would say and she would reply "They're 59 cents, maybe next time."
Hey, I have a plan, I would think to myself, and as Mom was checking out I would circle back to the candy section and grab a box of chocolate covered cherries. Somehow my Mom would lose track of me and stand at the front window of the store and stare out, looking to see if Cliff had already gone out to the car. That gave me enough time to take my box to the cashier who was always discreet about my gift purchase and would carefully bag the box and give me my 41 cents change before Mom turned around to see her six-year-old buying a box of candy. Probably the best part was being able to get to the car and into the house back at the farm, without Mom noticing that I was carrying a small bag of groceries.
Mom got chocolate covered cherries for Christmas and her birthday for several years in a row. They were the most thoughtful and best gift she had ever received. At least that's what she said. Mom was always very happy and sometimes moved to tears when she opened them. But not as proud and happy as I was to be standing there and watching her open a gift I had thought of myself.
A lot of water has passed under the bridge since those days and I'm afraid I haven't been able to think of a gift to give anyone, to make them as thrilled as Mom was with those cherries. Mom did understand the true meaning of Christmas and showed it. She truly knew how to give and receive as well as anyone I ever knew. I think sometimes we aren't very good at the receiving part, as we could be.
A few years ago, I stopped by a live nativity scene to watch and ponder what was going on. The center of attention was the real baby they had laid in the manger. Even the livestock they had hauled to town seemed to realize that something special was happening in the center of it all.
Contemplating the scene made me realize that Mom hadn't invented gift giving at its finest.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
When I need to get into the Christmas spirit, I watch this video. The soloist is David Phelps. I've been a tenor all of my life but when I listen to him sing it makes me feel like maybe I shouldn't try.
This version of 'O Holy Night' has a brief story at the beginning but if you'll watch the video to the end I think you'll see why I like it. I do believe there was a deal made between God and David for that voice and its use.
If you want to hear a bit more from this artist, look for the song 'The End of the Beginning' by Phelps. There are a lot of versions of these songs on youtube but you'll need to look to find the one with the best quality.
This version of 'O Holy Night' has a brief story at the beginning but if you'll watch the video to the end I think you'll see why I like it. I do believe there was a deal made between God and David for that voice and its use.
If you want to hear a bit more from this artist, look for the song 'The End of the Beginning' by Phelps. There are a lot of versions of these songs on youtube but you'll need to look to find the one with the best quality.
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