Drag a comb across my head

[degringolade]

Post-Impressionism / Francisc Sirato/ Millefiori

Went out to the Cash and Carry yesterday to pick up the basics.  Twenty-five pound sack of basmati, 25 pound sack of black beans, a chub of pork sirloin.  Broke the pork down into its six constituent pieces and the freezer is now loaded.

Gotta admit that I have a soft spot in my heart for black beans.  Yeah, I know, beans is beans, but I can chow down on black beans almost every day and not get tired of them.  Two cups of dried beans soaked overnight is always the beginning.  Dump the purple water the next day and then into the slow cooker on low with about six ounces of pork, onion, garlic, smoked paprika and a bay leaf of two.  Bring up to cooking volume with around three and half cups of water.  Go to work.

Come home to cooked beans, dump in a cup of dry rice and then wait a half hour while you drink a beer.  Eat and divvy up the rest for lunch the next couple of days.  

‘Nuff of that.  I think that things are getting a touch hinkey in the world.  The Rona is back and folks are freaking out for any number of reasons.  Who knows where the hell this is going to go.  The virus and the data seem to be changing.  Everyone who has any say whatsoever seems to be as befuddled and confused as the rest of us with no real plan.  Folks are getting:  A: More freaked out, B: bored of the whole charade, C: More pissed off, D: All of the above.

The whole thing is getting less fun.