Many of you have sent me links to articles similar to this one regarding the smuggling of dishwasher detergent into Spokane from out of state/city:

• AirAmerica: Housewives Smuggling Illegal Soap into Spokane

First, I’d like to thank AirAmerica for including my sort – the SAHDiNK – by referring to the househusbands along with the housewives in this article.  I must tell you how frustrating it is to read article after article about stay at home types and only see the word “wife” in conjunction with the word “house”.  I find it oh so offensive and commend AirAmerica for standing up for The HouseHusband.  Now, yes, this soap smuggling seems to be a big controversy.  To the point that I overheard The Early Show discussing the issue on national television while working in my home-office.  Yes, Mike & Jersey Jen (from Michigan) – I overheard the TV in the family room while I was working in the office – I wasn’t watching.  The issue seems to be that the Spokane River has become an endangered river because of industrial dumping.  I don’t get it.  I was at the Spokane Falls last week and it looks rather clean to me.  I didn’t see garbage floating or oil seeping from the water.  It looked pretty fresh to me – I would swim in it if it weren’t traveling at 1,000 miles an hour – though it might be fun to try to tube it at least once. I’m rambling

For those of you who have inquired about this issue, I’m here to set the record straight.  We are NOT smuggling  illegal dishwasher detergents into Spokane.  Let me repeat my self: We are absolutely, unequivocally NOT smuggling in Electrosol Finish^® All in 1 PowerBall^® Tabs – Fresh Scent dishwasher detergent, even though it is far superior to the Palmolive Eco-Friendly brand we bought that doesn’t Frerking (big ups to The Greatest Vet of All Time, Dr. Thad Frerking) work worth a lick.

Now that that’s settled, I thought I’d tell you an interesting find I had two days ago.  First, a little back story.  The Wife and I decided last year to join the couple who introduced us on a little trip.  I’m sure all of you parents and dog owners can relate to this – what do you do with your kid(s)?  In the case of the couple joining us, they were able to have their parents take their daughter for the time we’re away.  But what do you do with an 11 month old vizsla puppy?  The Wife’s aunt & uncle graciously offered, but it seems like every time Hogan visits their home, he’s destroying something.  You’ll probably remember the Wednesday Night Soup incident of 2008 where The gUrt was officially banned from their home by me in an effort to skirt the imminent ban by The Wife’s aunt and uncle.  There’s always the Kennel, but the last time he came back from there, he didn’t have a voice and slept for 3 days straight, so we weren’t too keen on that idea either.  I know Babs would watch him, but there’s the issue of getting him to Denver.  OOOh – wouldn’t it be great to send him to Donnie Boom Boom and Nanc?  We’d never be invited back.  What to do, what to do…

Well, the best option was to take The Big Guy and Mama J up on their offer to watch him for the week.  We’ve done the same for them and watched their dogs, so how hard can it be, right?  I mean  what’s the worst he’s done whilst visiting The Big Guy and Mama J?  HHHmmm – well let’s start with the latest incident: the new Rattan Pet Residence.  About a month ago, we were visiting Walla Walla and there on the doorstep were two brand new Rattan Pet Residences for the Big Guy and me to assemble.  While we were assembling it, I asked The Big Guy if he thought the dogs would chew through the wicker side panels.  His reply was a surprisingly stern “No, they won’t,” as if he had had a sit down with the dogs and discussed the consequences of chewing on the wicker hotel.  Well, apparently he didn’t have that conversation with The gUrt because last weekend, The gUrt did some remodeling to the hotel he was visiting and added an ocean view window.  Just so you know, you can purchase replacement side panels directly from Mr Herzhers…though it helps to know what size the Rattan Pet Residence was before you make the call.

Remodeling the Rattan Pet Residence wasn’t the only incident.  They’ve had to replace several sleeping pads because of incessant chewing.  Oh, and then there was the Nativity Scene incident during Christmas of 2008 where Hogan & Vinnie ran into the front entry full blast and broke an angel, I think a shepherd, and gave baby Jesus a good wack to the skull on the glass table.  Then, there was the reverse potty training we did with The gUrt where he apparently un-learned his bathroom skills and peed everywhere in their house.  Lets just say I’m worried that we may not be invited back to Walla Walla when we return from our trip.

There was an interesting outcome to this story.  In order for everything to work out, we decided it was best to leave Hogan in Walla Walla while we were visiting the weekend before we left.  Of course, we decided that after we had already left Walla Walla, had visited GPat and GrandpaNorm in Lewiston, Idaho and then were on our way back to Spokane.  We agreed that The Wife’s aunt would pick up The gUrt one morning during the week and take him back to Lewiston, where she was to see Mama J and visit GPat and GrandpaNorm.  Then Mama J would take him back with Vinnie to Walla Walla until we returned from our trip.

That morning, I was working in my office and it was about time for The Wife’s aunt to arrive.  I decided I would go spend some time with The gUrt as I knew I would miss him.  It’s funny, working from home, he and I are always together.  We’re together to the point that a lot of the time, if I’m running an errand, I’ll take him with me.  He really is my best friend.  I knew it was going to be hard being away from him for so long, and The Wife was feeling the same.  Hogan must have sensed it because when I went looking for him, I couldn’t find him anywhere.  It was like he totally vanished.  As I passed by the bedroom, I noticed that the bed was in major disarray.  Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about this because I usually make the bed as I hear the garage door lifting – signaling that The Wife is home and I’d better quickly pick up the house and shower before she finds out that The gUrt & I have been partying all day.  But because we were expecting company that day, I had made the bed earlier that morning.  Walking by and finding the bed totally destroyed, I figured out what was going on.  I walked in and quickly realized – The gUrt wasn’t sleeping, he was hiding.  He had totally burrowed his way under the pillows and two comforters in hope that whatever was going on would pass him by.

I’m absolutely amazed by animals and their natural intuition – their ability to read us.

The gUrt's Remodeling Project

I have to say that moving to Spokane has been quite an adjustment.  Don’t get me wrong, I love it up here, but you quickly realize when you move away from Las Vegas that you begin to miss some of the luxuries of living in that kind of environment.  In Las Vegas, for instance, the normal time to eat is around 8 or 9.  Here, restaurants are dead at 8 or 9.  In Las Vegas, you can go shopping until the evening on Sunday.  The Wife found that when she tried to visit many of the boutique type stores in Spokane, they weren’t even opened on Sunday.

There are other things that I really miss.  Customer Service is so bad in Las Vegas that I found myself enjoying using kiosks to make some of my purchases.  If you go to The Home Depot or Lowes (I love you Gene Hackman) or any grocery store…even the Post Office, you don’t ever have to talk to anyone.  You can use the kiosk and do the old self service gig.  I loved it.  When we moved to Spokane, I really realized how much I loved the kiosk idea.  One day, I went into the Post Office to mail something to Tiff & TroyBoy and was met by the rudest postal worker.  I’ve had some pretty bad service at the Post Office in the past, but this guy Steve at the 57th & Regal Post Office was a real Frerking (big ups to The Greatest Vet of All Time, Dr. Thad Frerking) piece of work.  I was paying for my purchase and he told me that I needed to sign my credit card.  I told him I didn’t ever sign the backs of my cards because it prompts them to ask for ID.  He told me that the Post Office didn’t accept unsigned cards.  I quickly wrote “See ID” on the back of the card because a long line was starting to form.  Of course, a long line was of no concern to him because he  then responded letting me know he wouldn’t accept it because it wasn’t signed.  After a verbal battle, I reluctantly agreed “See ID” was not in fact a valid signature and therefore I signed it with a violent scratch followed by my promptly asking to see his supervisor.  Boy, I was going to show him!  As he left to grab the guy, I quickly realized as I scanned the crowd that not only was this going to be a a waste of my own time, but the crowd was starting to reach for their lynching gear and wait for me in the parking lot.  I quickly & quietly ducked out the door before the supervisor arrived and the lynching ensued.  I’m rambling.

I’ve also noticed since we moved that some of life’s conveniences aren’t available either.  Especially at Albertson’s.  I like this flavored water called Clear Excellence.  They make a really good Blackberry Apple flavor, but I found that when we moved, the Albertson’s in Spokane doesn’t carry it.  It’s an Albertson’s brand.  How do they not carry it?  I asked about 20 people that worked there if they could get it in and they finally put me in front of the stocking manager.  She told me they don’t make it anymore…I don’t believe her.

This past weekend, we decided to host part of a young adults group from our church at our house.  It was an interesting concept – a “progressive” dinner.  The group starts at one house for appetizers, then moves onto the next place for a small dinner, then the next place for the other part of dinner, then onto a final house for dessert.  We pulled the appetizers card, so The Wife and I decided we’d do the following:

• Caprese Salad – mozzarella cheese chunks with Roma tomatoes & basil, topped with Red Dog Vinegar.  Red Dog Vinegar was a Walla Walla Red Wine that The Big Guy made into vinegar.  I thought is was a pretty strange project, but it ended up being AWESOME!  One Point – The Big Guy.
• Hummus with Crackers and Carrots.  I spent a ton of time picking out red, green, yellow and orange peppers, only to find that we didn’t use them.
• Crostini’s with some sort of Feta Cheese mix (The Wife is guarding the recipe – sorry!)
• Fruit Skewers with Watermelon, Pineapple, Grapes & Strawberries.

The last item on the list was an interesting recipe I found in the Giadas Kitchen Cookbook.  She’s so hot.  I decided I’d make it.

I headed over to Albertson’s, running late as usual, and found all of the items on the shopping list.  In true Albertson’s fashion, though, I was completely unable to locate the most important Crostata with Apples, Walnuts, and Gorgonzola recipe ingredient – Mascarpone Cheese.  I didn’t even know what Mascarpone Cheese Frerking was.  And, much to my surprise, neither did anyone that worked for Albertson’s.  After asking for help, this mess of a deli girl and I scoured the shelves.  No luck.

So what do you do in this situation?  It’s 4:00 PM people are showing up at 6:00 PM.  Do you scrap it and go home with what you have?  Frerking no way man!  Giada’s way too hot for that lack of effort.  What you do is high tail it to Rocket Market and hope that they have it.  Much to my relief, they did and I made it home managing to prepare the appetizer in record time.  Just as the company arrived, we were pulling it out of the oven.

Question for Albertson’s: What’s it going to take to get my Blackberry Apple water?

My Girl, Giada’s, Crostata with Apples, Walnuts, and Gorgonzola Recipe (Thanks Babe!)

Giada Delaurentiis - Food Hottie

(see a similar recipe on the Food Network)

Ingredients

For the Pastry:

• 1 ½ cups all purpose flour
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• ½ cup Mascarpone Cheese
• 1 ½ tablespoons lemon juice
• 3 tablespoons ice water
• 1 tablespoon sugar (added along with the dry ingredients, chilled)
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten

For the Filling:

• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 4 small Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and cut into ¼ inch slices
• ¼ cup sugar
• ¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• ½ cup chopped walnuts
• 1/3 cup crumbled Gorgonzola cheese

Directions

For the crust: In a food processor combine the flour, salt, and sugar, and pulse to combine. Add the butter and pulse until the butter is finely chopped and the mixture resembles coarse meal. Add the Mascarpone and lemon juice and pulse a few times. Add the ice water and run the machine just until the mixture is moist and crumbly, but do not form a ball¹. Roll the dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and press into a disk. Wrap the dough tightly and refrigerate for 20 minutes.

For the apple filling: Melt the butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add the apple slices, sugar, and cinnamon and cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes, until the apples are softened but not mushy. Set aside to cool for 10 minutes. Stir in the lemon juice and zest, walnuts, and Gorgonzola cheese.

Place on an oven rack in the lower third of the oven and reheat the oven to 400.

Unwrap the chilled dough and place it on a sheet of parchment paper. Roll the dough into an 11-inch circle, about ¼ inch thick.  Lift the parchment paper and transfer it and the dough to the baking sheet².

Spread the cooled apple filling in the center of the dough circle, leaving a 2-inch border. Fold the dough border up over the filling to form an 8-inch round, pleating the edge of the pastry³. Brush the crust with the beaten egg.

Bake the crostata until the crust is golden, about 25 minutes. Cool on the baking sheet for 10 minutes before slicing. Makes 4 servings.

¹Giada means this.  Do not form a ball. I did and it made it difficult to add the sugar when I realized I’d forgotten to add it.  I sprinkled it on top at the end before baking it and that made everything A-OK.

²I don’t know what parchment paper is, nor did we have it.  I went ahead and used wax paper.  NOTE: Don’t put the wax paper in the oven.  It smokes up the house.

³If you are a little out of the loop like I was on what exactly it means to pleat the dough, I can’t help you.  I finally handed that part over to The Wife for finishing touches.

This past weekend, I went to the Spokane Gun Show with The Wife’s uncle.  He’s a funny guy – we both broke our backs the same week, so we’re on the same wavelength.  He went to the doctor, though.  His diagnosis: “Condition consistent with a typical 50 year old male.”  That’s a bummer.  I think he wanted to hear something more like, “Patient broke back lifting a 1000 pound dock.”, not something about being 50.  Sorry man.  Anyway, we were at the Gun Show and I came across this really cool booth that had women’s hunting clothes.  No, not the booth with the women’s concealed carry lingerie (though that was cool too), it was straight up hunting clothes.  So I was looking through the rack and I spied a really cool army type jacket.  I picked it up and it was surprisingly hip.  It was clearly cut for a woman with the curves into the hips.  I thought it would look pretty cool on The Wife, so I bought it.  Now, the brand was called She Safari and the guy that sold it to me told me this story about ow the owner was a friend of his and he started it because he had all women in the house – wife and all daughters.  I guess its your typical guy that just wanted a son and didn’t get one, so he decided to turn his daughters and wife into something like a son, but still make it cool.  I’m rambling.

So this She Safari Army Jacket was really cool.  I brought it home to The Wife and she sort of made fun of me, at first, then she looked closer at it and I could see she actually thought it was cool.  She wore it this weekend and it in fact looked AWESOME!  I joked with her that it was her Che Guevara outfit.  I mentioned that as we were walking into the Rocket Bakery, downtown, and then proceeded to make the “double handed gunshots in the air, then spin the guns into holsters” mime.  I love that action, although it was probably a little scary for the people in the bakery because they’re all pretty much hippies.  I then called her Che all day long.

When we were living in Las Vegas, our favorite restaurant was the Balboa Pizza Company at The District at Green Valley Ranch.  It’s the best pizza and we always ordered the Barbecue Chicken Pizza.  It’s really tasty and it comes on a wood plank and is fashioned in a rectangle instead of a circle.  Another plus.  I really miss it since we’ve moved, but we have found a replacement here in Spokane.  There’s this totally hip place on the South Hill called Benniditos.  I can’t ever remember the real name, so I call it Bertinellis.  Everyone looks at me like I’m dumb, but I think it’s funny.  The Wife say’s it’s not.  Anyway, Benniditos is incredibly good.  It comes out on a metal pan and is circular.  They also are lacking the Barbecue Chicken Pizza.  But, what they lack in Rectangle BBQ, they make up for in DELICIOUS pie!  They also have these cool little deals called Beer Buddies.  We order them every time we go, but the last time we went, I saw them written on some girl’s chest, so I thought, we’d better get them.

The problem with Benniditos is that we’re pretty sure they put something in the pizza that makes you have weird dreams.  If you don’t believe me, let me give you some examples:

1. Case 1 – Read “Hogan’s Proposals Are Missing!” – this story occurred the very first night we ate Benniditos.  The Wife was seriously affected by the food.
2. Case 2 – The Wife has had many more dreams including one where she was late to work out with her mother who lives 3 house away and her friend from college who lives in Denver.  Our Friend in Denver was then really mad at her – someone whom I’ve never seem mad at anyone.
3. Case 3 – I’ve had several dreams as well that include me being an FBI Agent.
4. Case 4 – Liberty Wright, our friend from Las Vegas (Single Boys!) also had strange dreams on the plane back to Las Vegas from Spokane, just after eating at Benniditos.

As you can see, there is something wrong here.  If you still don’t believe me, let me tell you about my last post-Benniditos dream.  As you know, our house is a comfortable trio – The Wife, The gUrt, and myself.  Now, we’ve been having some adolescent issues with The gUrt.  He’s really crazy lately and now that he’s 50 pounds, he’s really getting difficult to control in certain situations.  One of those situations is he likes to run up to the neighbors.  They don’t seem to like it.  I think they’re a little afraid of him because he barks at them and acts like he wants to eat them.  Actually, he probably wouldn’t do that, but he’d eat their cellphone if he got it (Sorry to The Wife’s aunt!).

With all that said, the dream I had was crazy.  We decided to get another dog in my dream.  This dog was none other than Clifford the Big Red Dog.  I recently found out that Clifford is an oversized Vizsla and since Hogan is a Vizsla, I guess in my dream, Clifford seemed like a natural second dog.  The thing that concerns me about this dream was that everything was real, just like most dreams.  Clifford was really hard to control and Hogan was crazy.  We couldn’t get Clifford in the house because he was too big and we couldn’t even get him into the garage.  To top it off, Clifford and Hogan were running down the street and terrorizing the neighborhood.  Since Clifford was so big, he was causing the ground to shake and the street was cracking under his paws.  And he was so excited and crazy that he was knocking over trees and all the neighbors were running around, cussing me out.  One neighbor said, “These Frerking renters and their red dogs! I can’t wait for them to move!”

I mentioned a minute ago I was concerned.  What concerns me, you ask?  Well, I am concerned that not only was I dreaming about a fictional big red dog, but it happened to be that in my dream, as much as everything was as real as it is when I’m awake, this big red dog was indeed a cartoon.  That’s right folks, Clifford the Big Red Cartoon Dog running down my real street.

Clifford's New Family (The wife is played by Eva Mendes)

I spent the better part of last week in Denver.  Now, if you know your timelines, then you are correct if you thought to yourself, “Wasn’t there a big snowstorm in Denver last week?“  If you haven’t read my “You’re Welcome, Inland Northwest” story, I recommend it.  You’ll understand my next comment.  That’s right folks, I am officially traveling with the snowblower.  It dumps snow for 5 weeks, I buy a snowblower and then it doesn’t snow a bit.  Then, I travel to Denver, who hasn’t received snow all winter, and it dumps 18 inches.  No snowblower means I had to shovel out Bab’s Diesel VW Passat on Friday morning.  I flew back on Saturday night and have been in pain again for the last 5 days.  Frerking shoveling (big ups to The Greatest Vet of All Time, Dr. Thad Frerking).  I think I slipped a disk.

I had an interesting situation occur while I was traveling back home.  I was on the plane on Saturday night, just after my layover at McCarran Airport in Las Vegas.  I had just boarded as I am always top 25 on Southwest Airlines (A-List BABY!) so I get priority seating and I was doing my usual ritual.  I typically choose the aisle seat in one of the first few rows of the plane so I can get off quickly when we land.  Being that I am probably the most impatient and most claustrophobic person on the plane, it’s best if I am off ASAP.  If not, I’m liable to hurt someone, or say something totally inappropriate.  The other part of my ritual is that I try not to make any eye contact with the people walking past me.  Now, don’t think I’m not scoping out the people whilst they’re walking by.  Oh yes, I’m profiling baby.  I’m hand picking the person that is going to be lucky enough to sit next to me the whole flight and typically once I choose that person, I’ll make eye contact.  Then, usually, they’ll look at me like I’m oozing gross and walk right past me.

On this particular flight, I happen to see a pretty good looking woman walk through the door.  Now, she was definitely striking, but I could tell she was about 2 inches from her cougar years.  Still, for a pre-coog, she was way hot.  So as she walks through the door, I thought to myself, the hot chicks never sit next to me.  I always end up with some guido in a track suit (Credit goes to Jersey Jen, From Michigan), yelling at his wife, spilling over into my seat, forcing me to lean into the aisle.  I’m always having back pain after flights – maybe because it’s the fact that guido is forcing me to sit sideways on the plane.  Maybe…or maybe it’s because I’m so far in the aisle that I end up getting smashed in the back by everyone and their mother as they walk up and down the aisle to the restroom.  They should remove those.  I’m rambling.

So, this pre-coog.  She walks right up to my aisle and says, “Is that seat taken?”  I was out of my seat before she could finish her sentence and grabbed her suitcase and started stuffing it into the overhead.  She said, “What a nice guy!  Thanks”.  Then I sat down, said my ‘Cool Guy’ (as The Wife calls it) “You Bet”, and proceeded to start reading my book.  Yeah boys, I turned ignore on full blast!  As I was reading I looked down because I noticed she was opening her book, being the totally nosy person that I am.  As I was looking at her book, I noticed out of the lower left corner of my eye that her left hand was loosely holding the book – and then I heard the sound of gears turning and her thumb mechanically clamped down on the book.

You guessed it, she had a prosthetic hand.  So, as your typical guy would do, I started panicking that my chivalrous act of grabbing her luggage may have been misconstrued as a leap to help the poor girl with the prosthetic arm.  Because it’s all about me, I stressed about it for about 2 minutes (which is pretty long for me to stress about offending someone) and then delved into my book.  About halfway through the flight, I overheard the woman in the window seat asking her about her arm.  I just had to force my way into the conversation.  There was no way I wasn’t going to stay out of this one.  I have always wondered how those prosthetic work.  As she was explaining the mechanics behind it, I saw an opportunity to explain that my chivalrous act was in reality a chivalrous act and not some sort of pity thing for the girl with the prosthetic arm.  She said she thought I was just being a gentleman.

At one point, the conversation turned to me.  We started talking about the book I was reading and I explained that it was actually the Bible and that I was reading it because I hadn’t ever read it cover to cover before.  I explained that The Wife and I are doing this scheduled Bible In A Year reading where there are a certain number of pages you read every day.  I also explained that I was reading it on the flight because I was about 3 weeks behind on my reading and that I wanted to capitalize on the long flight to catch up.  I’m only 2 weeks behind now, by the way.

One thing led to another and we found ourselves in a discussion about theology and I began to explain that religion is a good foundation in life, but it is important to be active in life and make things happen to yourself.  I explained that I didn’t think that it was good to sit around and wait for things to happen to you.  Then I went on to explain that bad things happen to everyone and that it was a fact of life.  I tend to like to use a lot of words to drive my points home (surprise), so I went forth with what I thought was a pretty groundbreaking statement, since we were coming from Vegas:

“Sometimes, you just have to deal with the hand you’re dealt.”

I’m an absolute Geniou…idiot.  There was a long pause. I thought she was going to open the emergency exit and toss me out.  Then she said, “Or in my case, the hand you WEREN’T dealt!”  Then she laughed really hard.  Now we’re friends on FaceBook.