makin’ t-shirts

Ya never know what hobbies might rise to bite ya in retirement.  All that brain power that used to go to the job now is free to take on God-knows-what.  I never thought I’d pick up an iron again.  Heck, all my white shirts were perm press, so I didn’t even need it for that.  But add in an activity that marries that ancient implement with computer graphics and a scissors and you’ve got one of my new passions.  It began with an innocent exchange with my dear friend and double classmate (VHS’70, UM’74) Darai out there in the land of fruits and nuts telling me how she’s making her own t-shirts, and how to do it.   Sounded pretty simpleß, and I’ve been wanting to duplicate that t-shirt I should have bought in the U of C bookstore back in the day which celebrated all 7 of the Maroons’ Big-Ten championships.  The file of the ad I’ve kept since med school days is victim to a recent screen crash, but I’ll find and rescan.  It was a cute ad with a smiling little boy wearing a very baggy shirt saying the things you see below.  Here’s the art that will be on it:

The UofC bar will be arced (need to relearn how to do that), and that Apple purple isn’t quite the UofC maroon. That guy in the familiar pose is legendary UofC halfback Jay Berwanger, who in 1935 was deemed the best player in college football and received the first award from New York’s Downtown Athletic Club recognizing that fact, later named the Heisman.  He was selected 1st in the first NFL draft, going to the Eagles who traded him to the Bears.  Because of salary disputes and his wish to compete in the decathlon in the 1936 Olympics, he never played a down in the pros.  Berwanger’s heroics could not bring another championship to the Maroons, who went 4-4, 2-3 in the Big 10 that season.  Football was disbanded at UofC 4 years later, dormant till emerging as a club team in ’63, which became varsity in ’69 and began competing in Division III in ’73.

But UofC football in its heyday!  The original Monsters of the Midway!  National titles in 1905 and 1913! Amos Alonzo Stagg!  Whose fierce rival was our own Fielding H. Yost (1), with one of their contests inspiring the composition of The Victors! (2), ”Greatest college fight song ever’’ – John Phillips Sousa.

Back to t-shirts, there’s not much to it, really.  Key element is the transfer paper, onto which you print your design to iron on to a blank t-shirt.  Comes in two forms: “dark”, which receives the image as is to be ironed on and “light” in which an 1800 flip gets imprinted and that image gets impregnated to the shirt with the ironing, the paper removed.  The latter is much trickier to use, but can be applied to all colors, whereas the “dark” will only work on white or lighter colors.  I got all the design details of my U of C recreation straight: the curved arch of “University of Chicago”, Jay Berwanger’s iconic Heisman pose, and spacing of all the years of championships.  But getting that to a maroon t-shirt was a dismal failure.  A reattempt awaits my mastery of “light” transfer methods.  I’ve got plenty of paper and another blank maroon t-shirt.

But having gotten the hang of the design process, I took on some other projects.  The t-shirts really should be fresh, new, washed, and ironed.  Fortunately, Gildan cotton t-shirts in all sizes are extremely cheap on Amazon (3).  You probably could pull something from your underwear drawer, but with the effort that goes into the design, you’d like to see the final product looking nice.  I haven’t really been doing this non-stop since I figured out how.  In fact, I’ve only successfully made 8 different shirts since early 2020, embellishing a couple others.

Before I describe the shirts, let me address the peanut gallery.  You say that making t-shirts is not a very manly activity?  Why, it requires 2 power tools – the computer and the iron – 3 if you count the printer!  Can I get a few Tim Allen grunts out there? (4).  And it’s hazardous!  The surface of a hot iron can reach 4000 F (5), and there can be all that steam.  You’re one step away from the burn unit!  Add the combination of electricity and water and there’s also that electrocution thing.  No wonder women have largely abandoned the activity.  But those are risks I’m willing to take for my art.  Once upon a time, the hot iron came directly to board from the roaring stove that had heated it up.  Left unattended, up in flames goes the board and often much else with it.  Such iron mishaps were once such a common cause of house fires that my grandpa – a Grand Rapids fireman – working at #10 Engine House which still stands on 1734 South Division, having opened its doors on 1/22/29, the year Grandpa joined the department – 

invented and patented a device – the Slater Safety Stand – that clipped on the end of the board and provided a safe resting place for a hot iron.

Grandpa advertised the Stand with an informative 4-page brochure.

I don’t know how it sold.  He continued to fight fires till he retired in 1959 at age 60.  Although you can’t find the item on Amazon or eBay or anywhere on the net for that matter, there is a company in the U.K. that’s appropriated my grandpa’s last name while promoting work wear and safety devices (6).  Today’s irons have safety switches that turn them off when left in one position.

So, here’s what I’ve made.

California Health Corps: made up when I read of Gavin Newsome’s cockamamie plan to recruit docs with lapsed California licenses into a corps that would staff facilities for all the COVID patients sure to come (7).  The perk was a freebie 6-month license renewal, and some lowball civil service-type compensation.  Most applicants weren’t eligible, and the need never materialized (8).  My own application was never acknowledged.

I made one for my buddy in La Jolla, complete with his med school on the sleeve.   Since neither of us was ever called up, I don’t know if he wore it into battle.

Rocket Surgery: a beer label turned in a shirt for my dear wife, who was adept at this most difficult of tasks.

Space Camper: another beer label for the missus, who would pitch her tent on Mars on a moment’s notice.

G.O.A.T.:  a tribute to Michigan’s own Tom Brady after his 7th Super Bowl victory.  Yes, he is. My file name for this scan is “Our Tom”.

The table on the back didn’t scan well. Here’s what it looks like:

Next: Deplorable Lives Matter. To what political figure could this be referring?  I’m into my 3rd version of this shirt, recently updated for 2024.  Worn by MAGA-heads in both peninsulas and as far West as California.

Since making the original, I found something better for the back (with apologies to R.Crumb, who has not yet complained):

And since 2024’s not a re-election, I’ve even changed the front a little:

Too political for you?  In the age of COVID, any statement contrary to the Narrative was accused of being political.  But in the summer of ’21, ya just had to.   How better could you express your opposition to the jab than say “I like the nucleic acids God gave me”?  The big picture of Nancy Reagan on the back says it all: “Just say no!”.  I put it together very early into the vaxx mandate push, but it has held up well.

The list under Nancy didn’t scan well.  Here’s what it said to “Just say no” to:

I’ve also ironed on the image of a fierce bulldog onto my Vicksburg sweatshirt, and I’ve embellished my own white U of C t-shirt.  See those later.

After I started writing this post, I went to Ireland for 2 weeks with my wife to celebrate her birthday and my mom’s 90th.  Circumstances there inspired 2 more t-shirts.

I’ve written about my oldest sis Ishka (Jolene).  She doesn’t like my blog, but she liked this t-shirt.  Ishka happens to be the name of a popular bottled water in Ireland, besides the nickname she’s sported since her teens.  How convenient!  But it all goes back to Ish Kabibble!   For a more thorough explanation, see here (9).

For most of the shirts, I’ve lost the files for the sleeve portions.  But not for Ishka!

We all loved Out of the Blue, a seafood only restaurant in the fishing village of Dingle (10).  Younger sis Di (“Jack”) and Mom got one of these.

That map of Dingle on the back didn’t scan too well.  Here’s what it looked like:

Here’s my latest.  Made for Kathy to commemorate our whirlwind August ’22 trip to Phuket (“poo-ket”) Thailand.  The flag on the front is not the country’s official flag, but the flag flown by the ambassador from Thailand.  Kathy and I loved the elephant.

Caught the sleeve decorations for this one, too! 

I collect material for future projects in a file on my hard drive.  I also reproduce designs for friends, as I did with the “nucleic acids God gave me” for my friend and retired nurse Barb last summer.

The “embellishments” aren’t as much work, but the little additions can make a big difference.

Here’s my Vicksburg Bulldogs sweatshirt (proud VHS’70 grad) to which I added the great bulldog logo created long after I’d left the ‘burg.  As you can see, the appliqué fades a little with repeated washing, but can be rejuvenated by a new iron-on.

Here’s what that dog looks like before he’s made a couple dozen trips in the washer:

A fresh appliqué should restore the shirt. I don’t know how many times the process can be repeated.

I bought a simple white t-shirt from the University of Chicago bookstore a few years ago.  All that white in front begged for an addition.  U of C has an awesome crest, a gryphon arising from flames (the Phoenix) and letting out a full-tongued squawk, under the U’s motto: “Crescat scientia: vita excolator (let knowledge grow from more to more, and so be human life enhanced)”.  But in 2012 a maroon monochrome supplanted the original seal, which had been developed by the Boston firm serving as the architects of U of C, approved at a Board of Trustees meeting in 1909, 19 years after the university’s founding (11).  This seal featured the gryphon in glorious multicolor, even more riled up, rising from a golden flame defiantly protruding its blue tongue.   It’s said to symbolize the rise of Chicago itself after the great fire of 1871.   I think they keep it under wraps these days so as not to scare people.  

Guess which one I put on my t-shirt?  I couldn’t resist announcing on the back my particular U of C ties.

So that’s the output so far.

Tired of paying a buck a sheet for transfer paper, I just laid in 100 sheets for a mere 69.95 on Amazon.  Surely there will be more t-shirts to come.  Plus, I’ve got plenty of “lights”.  I may make the “U of C Big Ten Champions” yet.

“Oh, lookie, I just did!” was how this post was supposed to finish, followed by a picture of the facsimile t-shirt I’d managed to manufacture.  Alas, I still do not have the touch with “light” transfer paper, in which a mirror image is printed on the transfer paper ironed onto the garment.  I even spent $80 on eBay for a heat press, which does the ironing thing in a more precise manner.  

This is how serious t-shirt makers do it. Am I becoming one?  Works like a dream.

But it’s been almost a year since I wrote the entire draft for this post missing only the “UofC Big 10 Champs” t-shirt.  I decided not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good, and hereby release this post.  And remember, clothes make the man (and woman)!

References

1. Kryk J.  Stagg vs. Yost.  The Birth of Cutthroat Football.  Lanham MD: Rowan and Littlefield, 2015.  https://www.amazon.com/Stagg-vs-Yost-Cutthroat-Football/dp/1442248254/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1EF8KR2WYKMZ5&keywords=stagg+versus+yost&qid=1704847916&sprefix=stagg+versus+yost%2Caps%2C112&sr=8-1&ufe=app_do%3Aamzn1.fos.006c50ae-5d4c-4777-9bc0-4513d670b6bc

2. Ike B.  Hail Sousa!  Hail Elbel?  WordPress 3/6/22.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2022/03/06/hail-sousa-hail-elbel/

3. Gildan Men’s Crew T-Shirts, Multipack, Style G1100.  Amazon.com. https://www.amazon.com/Gildan-T-Shirt-Multipack-Black-X-Large/dp/B077ZMKWVM/ref=sr_1_3?crid=19F5OHPXINS1O&keywords=glidden%2Bt-shirts&qid=1656802897&sprefix=Glidden%2Bt-shir%2Caps%2C106&sr=8-3&th=1&psc=1

4. Every Tim Allen grunt from Home Improvement.  YouTube.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQwYNca4iog

5. Staff Writer. How hot does a hot iron get?  Reference 4/7/20. https://www.reference.com/world-view/hot-iron-fff5a227e1dc3f5e

6. Slater Safety.  01772 691 000.  https://slatersafety.co.uk/

7. Ike B.  Come back West, old man?  WordPress 4/5/20.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2020/04/05/come-back-west-old-man/

8. Ike B.  What kind of army is this?  WordPress 5/17/20. https://theviewfromharbal.com/2020/04/05/come-back-west-old-man/

9. Merz C.  The history of “Ish Kabibble”.  Hagen History Center 7/8/22.  https://www.eriehistory.org/blog/the-history-of-ish-kabibble

10. Dine at Out of the Blue.  https://outoftheblue.ie

11. The University of Chicago Library.  Frequently asked questions about UChicago history.   Answers.  Symbols.  When was the University Seal adopted?  https://www.lib.uchicago.edu/scrc/archives/frequently-asked-questions-about-uchicago-history/#Seal

natty!

Sing a rousing chorus!(1)

You don’t have to play to feel that way! (2)

The online home for the best Michigan sports coverage – Mgoblog.com – posts two Muppet videos after any very key Michigan victory: the troupe doing two songs that have been staples of the Michigan Marching Band repertoire since before the first post-war National Championship in 1947. And if that third Natty isn’t cause for Muppets, what could be?  So, here they are:

“Hawaiian War Chant” (3)

And, as Carl Grapentine would say, “You can’t have one without the other”: (4)

References

1. University of Michigan Fight Song -“The Victors”.   Hydra.  YouTube https://youtu.be/Ygt0m2_sHgE?si=vyTO8J1nNe0fwcwb

2. It’s Great to be a Michigan Wolverine.  Dennis Butch.  YouTube https://youtu.be/Mnv0sFGwCS8?si=p5tyLZcKISJzcBUX

3. Muppet Hawaiian War Chant.  thecsacredchipmunk.  YouTube https://youtu.be/aTU7nahUw20?si=3CRbffgobt–Nu58

4. Muppets Sing Perry Como’s “Temptation”.  modderfokkertje.  YouTube https://youtu.be/bv5RQyV3OWQ?si=wgNNAUK4lThplXfe

turkey trio

Happy New Year!

This is my 400th blogpost, a habit I kicked off 10 days short of 4 years ago.  I think I’m getting my money’s worth from WordPress.  Today’s post, as befits my recent trend, it’s about food.  Christmas dinner, to be exact.  But you don’t need to wait till a holiday to make this.  It’ll make any day a special occasion.

When I asked my wife Kathy what she wanted for Christmas dinner, she said  “oh, just a turkey”.  I’d been fond of taking on slightly more exotic birds (1), but knew we had a 12 pounder in the freezer taking up space. A lot of space.  I agreed, and vowed to make the most out of that boring old bird.

the  bird

I decided to brine the bird.  I had time.  I’d had good luck with turkey breasts and duck(1).  By the miracle of osmosis, more juice enters the turkey muscle than exits in the salt bath.  Plus, you can include all sorts of things to influence the ultimate flavor of the bird.  The process is a little complicated, so here’s how it goes.

Of course, it took a little research. Who’d a thunk ol’ Martha Stewart would be the best contributory?

A 15 quart Playmate cooler is a good resting place.  Helps that keeping the temp below 410F during brining process is essential.  Bought ice from the store and multiple frozen cold packs wrapped in a Ziploc kept things cool.

Here’s what it looked like (before bird landing):

Later, see our bird in repose. Here’s the recipe:

After a night or two in the tank (I read that after 18 hours, the bird gets too salty), it’s time to retrieve the bird, rinse it, and pat it dry.  To make that skin scrumptious, you rub it with brown ghee (brown clarified butter) (2), maybe 3-4 TBSB, be generous!  Place the bird in a baking pan and cook at 5000 (convection) X 30’.  The bird will look beautifully brown and almost done!  

Can we eat it now?

But 2 hours in the Pit Barrel smoker will finish the job.  It’s just a 55 gallon oil drum fitted for BBQ (3).  One of the best investments I’ve ever made.

See here the turkey panorama.

That’s a magnificent thing you’ll have there. Any appendage will be moist and sumptuous.

But in the interim has been cooked the gravy!  That exquisite treat requires only a little extra attention.  By cooking the bird mostly hanging in a smoker, you miss out on the brown bits in the roasting pan that contribute so much to a good gravy.   That pan the bird sat in for its half hour 5000 shock will have some stuff.  Here you just are using those useless bits that come in a bag inside the turkey.  You neglect them at your peril.  Watcha got is a neck, a gizzard (stomach), heart, and liver.  Simmer these for a couple hours and you got some good juice you can turn into the piece de resistance of any turkey dinner, the gravy!  Here’s how it goes:

Trust me, it was exquisite.  I had some mashed potatoes waiting for it, but my glycemic eschewing sweetie whipped up some sauteed cauliflower rice for the occasion.

Then comes the end of it all.  Gather up the few bits of leftovers for later.  You’d think with a 12 pounder and 2 people there’d be more.  We tore away the breasts for later sliced delights.  But the bones and carcass sat there and we decided to put it back to work.

Here’s how you beat that turkey carcass into submission.

Ah, man.  That’s some dandy soup.  Sure didn’t last around here.

I don’t know if when ol’ Ben Franklin was proposing that the turkey to be our national bird he was thinking of all the great ways we could eat it.  Knowing what a bon vivant Ben was, I’m sure that eating, drinking, and other pleasures of the flesh factored into his considerations, so who knows.  Regardless, we’re saluting the eagle and not eating it, but we love our Mr. Turkey in all its guises.  God Bless America!

References

1. Ike B.  dem bones.  WordPress 12/17/23.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2023/11/06/ghee-whiz/

2. Ike B.  ghee whiz.  WordPress 11/6.23.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2023/11/06/ghee-whiz/

3. Pit Barrel Cooker.  https://pitbarrelcooker.com/?sscid=00_0&gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiAv8SsBhC7ARIsALIkVT0im8_CeaHrqO4W9Q-DJ5j4YTJeb2-bSIlWP9Z7-Uqctl-bK0kjc5EaAqAkEALw_wcB

halve hygge

Hygge was fading on Harbal as the evening progressed.  The fire had drawn closed as Kathy and I absorbed into our screens had failed to feed the place.  Faced with our next big event of the evening, “Sashay’s Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop” show on WCBN (1), we struggled to restore the ambience.   We’d found that our homemade firestarters were not up to the task of making a roaring fire, only working with a $4 store bought “Dura-flame” (2).  We had but one of these left in the house, and wondered about tomorrow’s fires.

Kathy had a solution.  She was hoping to find a use for her Christmas present, her Coolina knife (3).  I bought this for her knowing the relish she took whenever deploying our cleaver.  I hoped she wouldn’t take it out on me.  She happily took the knife down from the rack and cleanly cleaved in twain a Duraflame.  One half would start this evening’s fire while the other would wait till tomorrow morning.  Violence well applied.

Hygge burns anew at Harbal.  All’s well for the 4th day of Christmas.

References

1. Sashay’s Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop.  https://spinitron.com/WCBN/show/248591/Sashay-s-Shimmy-Shimmy-Ko-Ko-Bop

2. duraflamefirelogs.  https://www.duraflame.com/products/fire-logs

3. Coolina knives.  https://www.googleadservices.com/pagead/aclk?sa=L&ai=DChcSEwiv4J-MtLODAxU5XUcBHbylAkAYABAgGgJxdQ&ae=2&gclid=Cj0KCQiA1rSsBhDHARIsANB4EJbG1VvsxTbGlqXCpmocjX5_N6ifV0gNqLTJ9rBN4ba1fpzXYJbZdxUaAuzoEALw_wcB&ohost=www.google.com&cid=CAESVuD2rhUw2K9V0UdbkyZgQUPRu1j0PT7hFQgLstTCzitfTHHDbdfYNM4QDtCE2HgpMXtVdIrE8YK8viua_BiuOtinbLnRGx_YXAHo5VZVG3ozOQnRvGuY&sig=AOD64_3BhUr-5KEj_yDgOxacudcfuIFY3Q&q&adurl&ved=2ahUKEwiRu5iMtLODAxXKjIkEHaygB2YQ0Qx6BAgKEAM&nis=2&dct=1

A coffee for ya, ma’am?

“Keep me up and f**k me up”, such was the request from the unnamed supermodel who walked in to celebrity bartender Dick Bradsell at Fred’s Club in Soho London sometime in 1983 (1).  A simple concoction, initially called The Vodka Espresso then the Pharmaceutical Stimulant, it caught on like wildfire with revelers who wanted to keep the party going (what, was there no cocaine?).  I guess caffeine is safer.   Nomenclature evolved to “espresso martini” and many have claimed parentage.  The only relationship to an actual martini is the glass In which its served.  No gin, vermouth, or olives come near this drink, although it packs a similar punch.  Added to that it’s so smooth going down and it keeps you up ready for more, more, more.

I can’t say my drinking life has been very eclectic.  I’m a beer guy lookin’ for the best IPA you’ve got.  But on a recent trip to Chicago our desire to watch the Big 10 Championship game landed us at Moe’s Cantina in River North, a Mexican place.  On their cocktail menu was this “espresso martini” thing.  Frankly, I was a little sleepy coming into that big game.  I ordered one of theirs, which they make with a fine tequila (Patrón Añejo).  It went down smoove and perked me up.  I was all there for the game, which never got very exciting.  A few more for good measure, and I saw the appeal.  I vowed to duplicate the drink once I got home.  The recipe is very easy.

And the product is so very pretty.

Kathy likes to muddy up the surface with her whipped cream, but it’s well worth it.

There are even recipes for the impatient. You’re supposed to let your espresso cool first.  It’s coffee dammit, and who doesn’t want that right away?

I recommend for all the coffee impatient out there the Aeropress, putting at your fingertips the power of a $1000 espresso machine (2).  And, of course, the metal filters are essential (3).

As I write this, Kathy and I have drained the last martini made with this morning’s espresso.  Thus, we must engage STAT technology.  Fortunately, we are well versed in this drill and shall see our glasses filled in no time.  Prosit!

References

References

  1. The Story of the Espresso Martini.  Taste Cocktails https://tastecocktails.com/the-story-of-the-espresso-martini/
  2. 2. Aeropress Original Coffee Press – 3 in 1 brew method combines French Press, Pourover, Espresso – Full bodied, smooth coffee without grit, bitterness – Small portable coffee maker for camping & travel.  Amazon.com.  https://www.amazon.com/Aeropress-Original-bitterness-American-espresso/dp/B0047BIWSK/ref=sr_1_4?crid=WRX2FYKN2088&keywords=aeropress&qid=1703637124&sprefix=aeropress%2Caps%2C369&sr=8-4&th=
  3. 3. The MESH: Reusable Metal Filter for AeroPress Coffee Maker. Also Fits AeroPress Go coffee press. No More Paper Filters.  Amazon.com.  https://www.amazon.com/Altura-Mesh-Aeropress-Stainless-Reusable/dp/B00JVTQHVC/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?crid=VOIMPJU7U2PD&keywords=aeropress%2Bfilters&qid=1703637378&sprefix=aeropress%2Bfilters%2Caps%2C187&sr=8-1-spons&sp_csd=d2lkZ2V0TmFtZT1zcF9hdGY&th=1

geography lesson

On the back of his Christmas card to me, my ‘burg buddy Jim wrote “P.S. Learn to spell Harbaugh (It ain’t Harbal)”. I figured he needed a little lesson, and wrote him thusly:

“From your admonition on the back of the envelope, I knew I had to set you straight.  Bear with me here.  Our little neighborhood on this cul-de-sac – Fair Acres – was carved out of an apple orchard in the late 50s.  All 13 houses went up in 1958.  The developer, one Harry Baldwin, decided to offer his name to the new street, contracting his two names.  Har-Bal.  Get it?  Jimmy wouldn’t be born for 5 years yet.  Harbal is a very unique street name.  If you GoogleMaps it, the only place you’ll find that’s close is somewhere over in India.  The residents have gotten restless over the name at least once.  In the late 60s early 70s, there was a movement to change the street name to “Defiance Moraine”.  That’s the geographic structure atop which we sit, crap the glacier threw up extending all the way down to Defiance Ohio.  As the petitioning began, some relatives of Harry Baldwin came out of the woodwork and said such a change would defile his memory, so Harbal stood.  When Jimmy came home in 2014 to save Michigan football, I proposed the same change you suggested.  I thought it would be cool to have Coach come to the ribbon-cutting ceremony.  My proposal was roundly rejected by my neighbors.  They were very fond of our unique street name, and knew more of the history behind it than I did at the time.  Some had doubts about the longevity of coach’s tenure.  If he leaves, where would that leave us?  So I’ve joined my neighbors as a proud and staunch supporter of the unique Harbal name.  Kathy and I enjoy spelling out the difference between Harry Baldwin’s contraction and our beloved football coach’s name whenever asked for our address.  Given Jimmy’s long rumored flirtation with the NFL, I hope all the rumors prove false and Jim lives up to his stated life plan “Play till I can’t, then coach till I die.”  Go Blue!!

party on!

Andy Williams was right.  “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” (1).  While The Day isn’t till Monday.  I’m sure most of us have been celebrating for a while already.  Trees and lights start to go up around Thanksgiving, and Christmas music, and of course the ads, have been peppering the airwaves since before that.  But it’s really starting in earnest now.  My best friend Eric had a virtual Christmas present exchange with his far flung family last night.  He said his son-in-law found him an app to help organize it.  Tomorrow, those of us blessed with some Norwegian blood will break out the aquavit and gravlax – and for the daring, lutefisk – to celebrate Little Christmas Eve.  Then, those lucky Italian Catholics celebrate the ending of Advent’s meat abstinence with their Feast of the Seven Fishes (2).  And we all know what happens the day after that.  How many of us “yust go nutz” (3)?  It can be a pretty frenzied day, as birthday parties often are.  Please don’t take my title and tone as sacreligious.  Has there ever been a bigger birthday, for crissake?  A little letdown after is inevitable, but it shouldn’t be because the party’s over.  That silly Christmas carol is right. There really are twelve days of Christmas, each day an established feast day worth celebrating.  So after Christmas, it’s like Rodney Crowell sang, with help of his ex-wife Rosanne Cash and smooth-voiced John Paul White: “It ain’t over yet” (4).  To help you through it, I’m reposting here the body of a text I posted 3 Christmases ago about those 12 days (5).

“dandy dozen

Merry Christmas to all my friends and whomever happens to stumble on this site!  It’s morning as I write this.  No presents yet, not even breakfast.  Kathy and I sit by the fire, excerpts from the Messiah playing, sipping our orange-juice free mimosas.  The nature of the crisis at hand hit me early.  Kathy and I have a shoe box full of our favorite Christmas CDs, which lives in the storage room till this wonderful time of year.  Between Spotify, WRCJ and WFMT, most of our Christmas music needs have been met by our iTouch.  We decided this morning to pull and play our favorites.  We’d played a few here and there, but there were a lot we haven’t heard for a year.  The pile got pretty big pretty fast and we realized there weren’t going to be enough hours in this day to play even a fraction of them, no matter how late we stayed up.  What to do?  The thought came, aren’t there 12 days of Christmas?  Sure we all know the silly song with the French hens, turtle doves, five gold rings and all, but what about those 12 days?  For most of us Americans, it’s back to work on the 26th and that’s that.  Maybe a little bargain shopping and some lousy football with a hiccup for New Years, plus still a slowdown at the office, but the post-Christmas hangover wastes no time in arriving.  Those of us church goers hear our pastors refer to the Sunday after New Year’s as “Epiphany”, but I’m not sure we emerge knowing what “an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure” we’d just experienced.  But if we understand Epiphany, we might begin to understand the bookends of what was once a week and a half of festivities, not just the climax of Christmas we’ve come to accept.  Epiphany marks the day the baby Jesus was visited by the Magi (the 3 Wise Men).  Not that long ago, each day between Christmas and Epiphany was marked by a feast honoring a saint.  Here it is explained (from 5).

The eve of day 12 – Twelfth Night – is still a big deal in England.  One big party.  Poor and rich often change roles. Shakespeare titled a play about it.  Practically speaking, it’s traditional to take your Christmas decorations down after 12th night.  We leave ours up to Imbolc (Feb 2nd, a.k.a, Groundhog day (6).  It’s all about light, dontcha know.  Those Christmas lights sprang from a much older tradition which sought to bring light to the darkest time of the year.  By Imbolc, you can perceive that that darkness really is lessening, so the lights can come down.

Some say early Christians appropriated this time of year to celebrate the birth of our Savior in order to co-opt the Pagans, who had a dandy celebration going at the time of the winter solstice called Yule (7).  I don’t know how long the Pagans went at it after Yule, but the Christians sure knew how to keep the party going!  Falling away from the church means some spiritual losses to be sure, but look what else you’re missing!   Kathy and I are looking forward to celebrating the next 12 days to the fullest, including playing all that Christmas music!

Wishing you all a joyous 12 days!”

References

1. Andy Williams – The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year (From The Andy Williams Show). YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73UqDX_quk0

2. Feast of the Seven Fishes.  Wikipedia 12/21/23 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feast_of_the_Seven_Fishes

3. I Yust Go Nuts At Christmas – Yogi Yorgesson.  YouTube.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_7coicdXWg

4. Rodney Crowell – “It Ain’t Over Yet (feat. Rosanne Cash & John Paul White)” [Official Video].  New West Records.  YouTube https://youtu.be/EFrpzPR6TLY?si=uA0bfDnTUpJD9QQF

5. Christmas Customs and Traditions.  The 12 Days of Christmas.  https://www.whychristmas.com/customs/12-days-of-christmas

6. Ike B. cross quarter. WordPress 2/1/20.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2020/02/01/cross-quarter/

7. Religions.  The Pagan Year.  BBC 3/14/06. https://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/paganism/holydays/year.shtml

Cap’n Cosine

Paul Schutter was a teacher of mine back at Vicksburg High School.  He taught me driver’s ed and math and served as my golf coach and chaperone to a junior year DC venture.  A mountain of a man with a college sports past he never talked about, he was our gentle guide through all these things.  He died last December after a long bout with Parkinson’s.

Last weekend’s venture to the ‘burg for “Christmas in…” (1) was followed the next morning by services at Vicksburg United Methodist Church, where I am still a member after signing up at age 16.  In the bulletin was listed “Remembering Our Church Family and Friends with Christmas Wishes”.  They were mainly shut ins and those who had lost a loved one.  On the list was one Marilyn Schutter.  She’d be one dealing with a loss, still.  The emotions that welled up in me thinking about her husband made me sure I had to write her a letter.  I was going to post that letter here verbatim till my wife Kathy, who’s very good and well-practiced at reining in my potentially inappropriate behaviors, pointed out that Mrs. Schutter might not want to see so personal a communication become a public document.  But Kathy said it would be o.k. to share my reminisces of my dear teacher, so here goes.

I first knew Mr. Schutter as a teacher, of course.  I believe he taught me how to drive a stick shift, “3-on-the-tree”.  Then, he became our class’ guide through the angles of geometry, our Captain Cosine (the nicest of several nicknames we cooked up for him).  There in the front of the class was this giant of a man who could have beaten any of us to a pulp (and some of us deserved it), but all we got was his gentle way and self-deprecating humor.  He never let on about his sports exploits at K and Western (he was a star football player and champion shot putter), but when he took us to those places, he proudly pointed out their features, like how Western never paved a footpath until students had walked it for a couple years, establishing the best ways to go.

I at least played one sport well enough to get to know him as a coach.  I canned football after my freshman season, so it was on the golf course he got to try to make something of me.  My teams were never champions, but I did letter, and proudly wear that big V on my varsity jacket still (2).  But Mr. Schutter was also assistant coach of boys’ varsity football, and he certainly looked the part.

Next to him are head coach Mike Blough and fellow assistant Eddie Knapp.  Mr. Blough coached me in JV basketball and Mr. Knapp had some championship baseball teams.  The diamond at VHS is named after him.

Mr. Schutter was charged with chaperoning two from my junior class and 3 from the class of ’69 on a “Domestic Exchange” trip to D.C. where we’d visit Lee High School in Alexandria Virginia.  He was also the driver.   I don’t know if he was with us at the time, but I had my first taste of beer at a bar in sight of the White House.  He was always a good sport, and even took pictures of us in scenes less embarrassing than they looked.

He grew to be a friend of my dad, probably through church.  They played golf and became buddies.  He was one of Dad’s pallbearers at his March ’03 funeral.

I regret I lost contact with my old teacher.  I’m sure he was kinda surprised when my dad told him tales of how I seemed to be making something of myself.  I heard through the grapevine of his struggles with Parkinsonism.  So sad a man who could once do so much with his strong body would now be shackled with that horrible disease.

When I heard of his passing last December, I communicated the news to all my VHS’70 classmates who had an e-mail address.  I received many replies with fond remembrances.  If the Captain had any enemies at VHS, they weren’t in my class.

There’s a video with scenes from his life as part of his obituary on amsfuneralhomes.com (3).  I recognize some of those shots!  It demonstrates clearly how the Schutters had a rich and full life together.

I’ll forever miss him, grateful for all he did for me, and will never forget him.

References

1. Christmas in the BURG.  https://downtown.vicksburgmi.org

2. Ike B.  varsity jacket. WordPress 4/14/22.  https://theviewfromharbal.com/2022/04/14/varsity-jacket/

3. Paul H. Schutter.  May 1, 1933 – December 11, 2022.  Vicksburg.   Avink McCowen Secord Funeral Homes https://www.amsfuneralhomes.com/obituaries/paul-schutter

merry! merry!

‘Tis the season!  For the last few years, my wife Kathy has gotten me to write a Christmas letter detailing our adventures in the past year.  It’s great fun to relive those experiences, and even more to figure which of your friends, family, and acquaintances you’re going to inflict them upon.  This year, we dug up 130 victims.  Thank God for e-mail, ‘cause if I were sending each of them a Christmas card it would run me $85.80 at present rates!  And that’s not accounting for international postage!  You can buy a lot of beer with that!  For the rest of the world that we have not managed to capture, it’ll all be out here on my blog.  So I hope you’ll take a few moments to chuckle over what the Ikes/Clarks had to endure this past year, be glad it wasn’t you, and join us into looking toward a better 2024.  Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Go Blue!

Kathy and I opened this year across the pond, underground.  We were starting a trip we’d been anticipating nearly 2 years, booked in January ’21 and delayed by COVID.  The main attraction was Hogmanay, a raucous and fiery New Year’s Eve festival the Scots have been having since Mary Queen of Scots in 1561 forbade them from celebrating Christmas, as it was “too pagan”.  The intrepid Scots merely moved things up a week and have been reveling ever since.  But instead of being out in the streets reveling with the natives, we were in the basement of Globe Bar, eyes fixed to the big screen their owner had assured me on-line that he’d stream the Peach Bowl.  Our boys made some uncharacteristic mistakes, but the game remained close.  When we stepped outside to see the fireworks at midnight, they scored 2 touchdowns in quick succession.  Not enough.  Despite this bummer of a start to the year, we dragged ourselves at 4 in the morning in the rain to our waterside cottage in South Queensferry by the Firth of Forth, a North Sea inlet.  We had a lovely view of the bridges from our flat, especially at night.  We had a bird’s eye view for Loony Dook, in which crazed Scots celebrate the new year by taking a dip in those icy waters.  Edinburgh was a bus or train ride away, but ol’ S.Q was pretty cozy with nice restaurants, a good pub, and trails that went everywhere.

Home saw a quick turnaround, as we’d booked a house on Madeira Beach Florida, on the Pinellas Spit, set to start in 10 days.  Kathy could relax a little, as this would be the last time we’d be out of North America all year.  After the whirlwind of the 6 months itinerary following her retirement, seeing 5 countries and 24 American cities*, she’d asked that I cool it a bit.  Being a good husband, I listened.

In Florida, we had everything we needed: a comfy porch overlooking the Gulf and proximity to those stores we’d need for provisions.  My brother John and his wife Karen came over from Clearwater for a visit in which a large grouper was mercilessly devoured.  John likes a good cigar and we indulged.

February saw two Texas trips.  Kathy went to Galveston “on business” (no pictures) then dragged me down to Fort Worth a couple weeks later to see the first ever live show put on by Babylon Bee.  They’re a bunch of funny kids out in California who dump outrageous and unbelievable political humor in your inbox every day. Some highlights of the show we saw are accessible on YouTube, but if I provided links, I might offend some of the recipients of this letter.  As VIPs, we got to wear name tags, and they let us pick out own pronouns!

We mostly stayed put in March, but we did go out.  Of the 37 concerts we saw in 2023 (so far), 9 were in March.  4 of those were in Chicago packed into a 5-day St. Patrick’s Day train trip.

We always love an excuse to visit La Jolla, ever since my 2017 Winter UCSD sabbatical.  We’d become very fond of a church there, La Jolla Presbyterian (“LJ Pres”) and they were given responsibility for this year’s Easter Sunrise service in Balboa Park. Two days after Palm Sunday we were off for a 12-day visit.  Easter morning was magnificent, and we’ve already made plans to be out there in 2024, even if a different church will be doing the honors.  See the glorious pavilion that served as ground zero for our services:  Spreckels Organ Pavilion,built in 1914 and the largest outdoor organ pavilion in the world.A group of people playing instruments outside of a building Description automatically generated

Those west coast trips usually include a jog up to the Bay Area to meet a couple of my old Barnes buddies and catch up with the Pescadaro branch of the Clark clan.   See us here after dinner at the Costanoa Lodge, which hired Orion after talking with him at the table.  Those Clarks can get so silly sometimes.Left to right: Janet, Mertz (Jim), Kathy, Aislinn; back Orion, Skyler, Uncle Ike

May and October are the prettiest months in Ann Arbor, so why would we go anywhere?  Except for a brief trip to Battle Creek to see their Brass Band and a jaunt south to Cincinnati to visit Kathy’s 87 years old Uncle Chuck.  We had a great time bringing him up to date on all matters family and Wolverine.

Visitors came to us.  My good Barnes (StL ’79-‘82) buddy Dave, now a concierge doc in the Bay Area (Petaluma) wanted to come visit his brother in Livonia.  We offered up our downstairs guest bedroom and he accepted.  The facility, including its bathroom, hadn’t been used for a while.  Dave noticed his sink didn’t drain but managed by coming upstairs to use other sinks.  After consulting 3 plumbers after he left, we learned our problem wasn’t a simple clog, but a totally rotted out sewer system that needed replacing.  Thus began an assault we’d endure well into the Fall months.  We’d get a nice new driveway and front porch out of it.  Cost a bundle, and our homeowners policy picked up a little less than half.  It brough to mind a moment with one of our neighbors, the late much-missed Victor Hawthorne, a charming Scot who had been dean of the School of Public Health.  Faced with a similar project, albeit on a lesser scale, he said “That’s life.  One day you get a nice vacation in Bermuda and the next you get a new sewer line.”

Here are some of the excavations.

We were homebodies in July, too.  Usually, mid-month sees a special day, July 16, on which Kathy, my birth mom Marlene, and my birth dad Dick were all born.  We’d gather again at her house in Stanwood that day, but this time it was for her memorial service.  She’d passed away in late April, 2 ½ months short of her 91stbirthday.  Mom’s place often saw big crowds for. celebratory events, sometimes spawning tent cities.  It was a big Irish wake this time – complete with pig roast – just like she wanted.  But I can’t say there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

Another one of those visitors showed up end of July.  It was my oldest living cousin, Rinnie-Linnie from Arlington, escaping that Potomac steambath for Michigan, where she had relatives on her mom’s side in Lake Odessa and whereabouts.  Her late dad gave her that nickname, as he did all his 9 kids, based on her affection for Rin Tin Tin.  She brought along her two eldest, firefighter Maria and engineer Luke.  We kept each other entertained.  Linda spent time taking pics of all the space posters for her sister Sandy’s husband, a big-time space nut.  They seemed to deal with the bad sink drain o.k.

In August, it was time to travel and see music again!  Flint for Boz Scaggs, Cuyahoga Falls for the Outlaw Music Festival (featuring John Fogerty and Willie Nelson), Paw Paw for my VHS70 classmate Cheryl Shelton Dennis and her Jazz and Blues Heads, and Three Oaks for Robbie Fulks.

September means the coming of school year and the football season.  Both Kathy and I still feel the tugs of the former, but no one’s expecting much of anything of us these days.  For the latter, the hype was unavoidable.  We were about to see the greatest Wolverine team since Crisler’s ’47 National Champion Mad Magicians.  So, of course our various travel plans would have us missing 4 of the 7 home games.  One of those breaks was a much-needed respite to Windnsea Beach in La Jolla, escaping those jackhammers for a week.

We did go on the road to Minnesota first weekend in October to see the battle for the Little Brown Jug (we kept it).  Minny was o.k., and afforded Kathy a chance to tour the North American Jellycat Headquarters, in the TractorWorks Building on North Washington.

Mom gave us another trip in November.  For years, she spent her winters in her condo in Mazatlán, by the Gulf of California.  Shortly after she died, my sibs figured it would be a good thing to congregate down here to remember her.  Indeed, it was.  We took a bottle containing her ashes out on a sailboat into the Gulf and tossed it as bagpipes played.  There were instructions on the bottle what to do if found, but not in Spanish.

November culminated in The Game, of course.  That’s one ticket we were so happy not to give up, although selling it would have paid many bills.  Can’t put a price on that feeling seeing the final scoreboard and watching all rush onto the field. 3 straight!

Which brings us to where we are now!  We did take a short train trip to Chicago to experience Christmas there, but it didn’t seem the same without snow.  We’re still waiting for that in AA, although a few big flakes came down Monday morning.  Regardless, the hygge is high at Harbal, we have a fresh cord of wood in the rack and plenty of bottles of Blaufränkisch Left Foot Charley to make glühwein.  Merry times projected.  May you all enjoy something similar

So, from Harbal by our concolor fir, we bid you Merry Christmas and Go Blue! We extend to you a hearty Norwegian Sköl with a nice California pinot.

*PS. About that grueling 2022 travel itinerary

dem bones

I love it to be presented with a castoff I can turn into yet another taste treat.  You’ve seen what happens with duck and turkey cast-offs (1).  This week found me receiving more bounty.  Kathy liked my brined turkey breast so much it was gone quickly.  So when they came on sale at Kroger’s, I picked up another one which is already in the brine same day, smoked the next, and being eaten as I type.  Then at Meijer’s the next day, I saw they has big butt hams on sale.  I get a lot of mileage out of those, so of course picked one up.  The home butchering got some big chunks ready for slicing, some smaller bits ready for snacking or soups, and of course the bone.   This being a butt ham, it’s not just a nice smooth femur, but that bone and its articulation with the acetabulum of the pelvis.  So I’ve actually got 2 bones. What can you do with them?  Oh my!  My Dutch soul craves some tasty split-pea soup.  But I’m also gonna have this turkey carcass.  So this calls for a little creativity.  I’ve already landed on a name “turham splt pea soup”.  Maybe a little homage to my best friend, Eric Durham. That name got embellished when I learned the Dutch call their soup        “Erwtensoep” (pronounced: Air-ten-soup) or “snert” (2).  Who wouldn’t want a bowl of snert!  But now the recipe!  I have 9 recipe cards for split pea soup in my box, all cut out of newspapers and pasted for later use.  None by itself seems right for this project, so I do what I always do confronting a new recipe, make a spreadsheet!  From this I can discern trends and pick and choose what I want in my recipe.  I added a 10th column for my recently discovered “true” Dutch split pea soup.

So this is how I approach a new recipe.  I pick and choose ingredients that look good.  I nearly always add more garlic and whatever it might take to bring up the heat a little.  With this one there was a vegetable choice. 

Nearly all threw in some celery, such a common ingredient in soups.  But I chose to follow the Dutch into their root cellar and grab some celeriac (celery root).  This ball of goodness ain’t going to win any beauty contests.  It’s what those stalks grow from, but the root is prized for its flavor, nutritional (even medicinal!) properties (3), and preservabilty. 

In the dead of winter, when the boer is craving some snert, he’ll have some balls of celeriac around when all the celery is long wilted away.  The root still has the celery flavor as well as some starchiness, especially nice when your low glycemic index sweetie says no potatoes.   So, here’s my recipe

The making of it was not without some drama, as I was shocked to find my cache of legumes of many varieties did not include split peas!  Out to Kroger’s Kathy goes, a 5’ drive.  Then it was time to take a leek, and none of those!  Kroger’s had none so a 30’ round trip to Busch’s was necessary.  It’s good that she loves me still.   Cooking stuff in this Insta-Pot thing in nothing flat is possible with its pressure option, but I wanted the ingredients to get to know each other in their leisurely overnight bath, so Mr. hi-tech Insta-Pot became a plain old slow-cooker.

In the morning, dem bones came out, and showed their bath had been a pretty thorough cleanse.  All that color they once had turned into more goodness for the soup.  I’m sure it’s a sacrifice of which dem bones can be proud.

A little more cooking as the newly chopped but well-cooked onions and the meat have to join in.

And boy do I have some snert!  Some will get frozen in a few days after I figure how fast we go through this stuff.  

It’s a meal in itself, but a little rye bread on the side sure helps.  With all that ham, I made sure to lay in some rye bread.  I’ve got a nice loaf of Zingerman’s Jewish rye, and thanks to my Latvian friend in Kalamazoo, I have an outstanding loaf of Black Rooster Baltic Rye (4).

So here we are in the middle of winter, almost Christmas, and can all use some snert.  As our old bones are soothed by the goodness we ingest, remember to thank dem bones that made it possible (5).

References

1. Ike B.  tur-duck-?en soup.  WordPress 11/28/23.   https://theviewfromharbal.com/2023/11/28/tur-duck-en-soup/

2. Erwtensoep – Dutch Split Pea Soup.  Wandercooks 5/21/20.  https://www.wandercooks.com/snert-dutch-split-pea-soup-erwtensoep/

3. Olsen N.  What are the health benefits of celeriac?  Medical News Today 11/1/19.  https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/320374

4. BREAD AS BREAD WAS MEANT TO BE.  Black Rooster https://blackroosterfood.com

5. The Delta Rhythm Boys – Dry Bones.  YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1szphOU1E0