I get my TV programming via satellite from the Dish Network. I’m too far in the boonies to get any broadcast stations, but the FCC got it into its head that I was close enough to Atlanta that I didn’t qualify to receive any satellite network programming. I appealed, and they gave me ABC, CBS, and PBS. I don’t watch TV much at all, but with ABC carrying the NHL playoffs, I was very happy to get it. The only network show I regularly watched, though, was the Simpsons, and I was told that the Atlanta FOX station refused to allow me to get FOX off the satellite. I’d miss out on all the used car ads, you see. After really missing the Simpsons, I finally called the station and complained. The lady in charge of such things told me, after finding out where I lived, that of course I can get FOX over the satellite. They didn’t care at all, in fact. She mailed me a postcard to that effect. Now,I get FOX from New York and FOX from L.A. Net result? I can watch the Simpsons five times daily. Maybe I ought to start filling up VHS tapes.

It’s only Virtual Hell, but the background music will convince you it is real. At least they didn’t use that citizen in hell song I pointed to earlier. They’re trying to scare me straight, and now that it’s been pointed out that they don’t serve breakfast in hell, it might’ve worked.

There’s a party in my mind, and I hope it never stops.

Only 14 hours to go until maximum planetary alignment. I’m flush with anticipation. Come tomorrow, I might be living on the beach! In the snow!

Nothing says “spendthrift” like Ramen noodles, and nothing offers more ways to cook ’em than the Ramen Recipe Page. There’s one hundred seventy two ways to tickle your tastbuds, ranging from “Orange Ramen Pancakes’ to “Florentine Noodles a la Marco Polo and Paul Newman” to “Nukem Spaghetti Ramen”. Mmmmm, mmmmmm. That’s good eatin'!

It’s “beg week” for Georgia Public Radio. Somehow they managed to snag a killer web address, pledgenow.org.

Last night, the University of Georgia here in Athens mourned its dead. It’s been a record semester for death, with causes all across the spectrum: suicide, overdose, accidents, illness, car crashes, and fraternity hazing. So far this semester, there are eleven dead. Oddly enough, there has been a perceptual shift in attitude here, albeit a likely temporary one. Folks are realizing that they (and more importantly, the people around them) aren’t invincible.

I woke up this morning to a flock of wild turkeys perched in the trees in my front yard. They weren’t too concerned with me down below, so I brought my food (poundcake, strawberries, and freshly whipped cream) outside and joined them for breakfast. The conversation was very pleasant.

Steven Baum over at Ethel the Blog did what I didn’t have time to do yesterday: link to a whole mess of information about fire ants. If you like my story from the weekend and want to know more about the industrial little beast, Ethel’s the place to go.

Tanzanian Peaberry coffee beans are about the size of a pencil eraser. I’ve got a tad under a pound of them at home, sealed in a bag in my pantry. They’re still green – well, more like a greenish-brown, really – because they haven’t been roasted yet. This morning I scooped about six spoonfuls into my roaster and turned it on while I showered. After 15 minutes the house was filled with the aroma of freshly-roasted coffee. If you’ve not smelled that, and you like coffee, you are missing out. It’s like the smell of coffee beans, or a nice coffee house, but smokier, richer, earthier. Enormously pleasant. I took the beans, still hot, and whirled themin my grinder. Steam was released and condensed back to water in the underside of the domed lid, all in ten seconds. The coarsly ground beans were then transferred into my French Press where they sat in nearly-boiling water for about five minutes. Twenty minutes total from raw bean to brew. To the coffee in my cup I added a spoonful of the freshly whipped cream I’d made for my strawberries and stirred with a piece of freshly cut sugar cane (a gift from my neighbors just returned from Florida. They also brought some segments that were starting to sprout, which I promptly planted in the side yard.).

Some people drink coffee to wake them up. For those folks, a Mr. Coffee pot with a timer is the perfect thing. Myself, I never liked the taste of coffee until recently. When I discovered coffee drunk for the sheer pleasure of it rather than as a caffeine vehicle, I realized what I was missing. And now that I can quickly go from green bean to hot liquid, I see (and smell, and taste) what I was missing at even the nice coffee houses. If you like coffee, there’s no reason why you can’t do this too. See my April 2nd entry for all the information you need. Likely, you can drink your home-roasted coffee for cheaper than you’re paying for Folgers grounds now, if you’ve got a hot air popcorn popper lying around. (Note to Wendell: just another example of my cheap-ness.)