Dan the Meat Man

It may sound strange but we buy all of our steaks from out of the back of some guy's truck.  A couple years ago I was working in my yard, and a man stopped his truck in front of my house, and very politely asked if I was in the market for a good deal on beef.  Normally I don't give door-to-door salesmen the time of day, but it just so happened that at that time I had been very disappointed with our local supermarkets' lack of ability to provide my family with high quality steaks for a good price.  Chad likes his steak.  And I'm pretty picky about steak quality.  So I gave the guy the time of day, and it turned out to be so worth it.  Meet Dan ("Just call me the Meat Man," he said).  He showed me his price list, and pulled a huge box of meat out of a freezer in the bed of his truck.  He opened the box, showed me all the types of steak that were inside, and talked about the benefits of the individually wrapped, vacuum-packed, flash-frozen steaks.  Guaranteed to taste fresh after a year in the freezer.  I was sold.  I love having a freezer full of food, but I hate to have food and money go to waste because of freezer burn.  So I wrote a check, and Dan carried the box down to the freezer under the house.  And oh, how we have enjoyed the beef.  Delicious T-bones and Kansas City steaks, tender bacon-wrapped Filet Mignon, my favorite New York strip, and the best hamburger patties I've ever tasted.  Honestly.  I don't have to stress at the grocery store, wondering if the steak I'm buying will taste any good, or if I'm just throwing my money away.  And I'm always just a quick grill away from a juicy steak dinner (you can even put the frozen meat on the grill if you have trouble planning ahead enough to defrost).  The huge box lasts us almost a year, depending on how carnivorous we feel, and by that time Dan has either made his rounds again, or I just call him up to ask for more.  Thank you Dan, for coming into our lives.  Our arteries may not thank you, but our taste-buds do.

Spicy

Back in April, I bought nine jalapeno starts for $3.00.  This summer we've been picking them like crazy, eating some with our burritos, giving some away, but mostly they've been accumulating in our refrigerator drawer.  Today Chad helped me can six jars of jalapeno pepper rings (I let him do the slicing...he doesn't have contacts, and doesn't need to stick his fingers in his eyes).  I loved working with him in the kitchen, teaching him the ins and outs of canning.  He was really pleased with how easy it was, and told me how proud he is of my gardening skills.  And he asked what else we're growing in the garden that we could add to our pantry of food storage.  I don't know why, but this makes me very happy.

Bree added her own grocery list to the fridge

ZooMobile

The mine here in town is the sole sponsor of the Phoenix ZoooMobile, which tours the rural towns in Arizona with a small collection of animals.  Tuesday, Amy and I took our kids to the mine's large office building to see the animals.  The zookeeper had brought a tarantula, a night hawk, a beetle, a boa, and a ferret.  Bree and Calan watched and listened carefully as the zookeeper talked about each animal.  And Mason climbed on the table, took off his shoes and threw his socks across the room.  At the end, the kids got to pet the ferret, and give it a sniff.  Ferrets stink.  Then we took the kids back to Amy's house to play, and poor Cora, who had been under the impression that we were actually going to the zoo, found herself sorely disappointed.  Don't worry, we'll go to the zoo again this year.  Just not when it's 110 degrees.

What the...cucumber?!

Dinosaurs in Arizona

On my drive home from Zion last week, I stopped at the Big Water Visitors Center, which is near the Glen Canyon Dam.  I took this picture of a hadrosaur's tail there, discovered in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument area.  I learned about the steps of the Grand Staircase, and how it exposes so many layers of earth, each representing a different time period in history.  For this reason, dinosaur fossil finds are prevalent in this area.  Something about this visitor's center sparked a yearning in me to learn more about dinosaurs.  

 

I bought an awesome book for the kids, which we have been reading through together.  Bree and Mason love looking at the pictures, and enjoy the fold-out and pop-up features.  I love the little facts I'm learning.  Which dinosaur was the longest?  Which was the fastest?  Which was the smartest?  I also talked to an employee at the visitors center who personally found a sickle clawed dinosaur (Genus Nothronychus) skeleton two miles away from the building.  That skeleton, the most complete specimen of any in its Family, is currently at the Arizona Museum of Natural History in Mesa, just over an hour away from here.  I've added that to my list of places we must see.  Chad and I realized that we can't remember ever seeing a real dinosaur skeleton.  And that's just sad.  A travesty, really.  It must be remedied, and soon.

Road-tripping by myself

I have recently made several observations about driving long distances on my own.

• I can play country and/or chick music and sing loudly without anyone complaining.
• I don't have to clean up Mason's vomit because he got carsick on the twisty mountain roads.
• It's kind of difficult to read directions and drive at the same time, and heaven help me if there's a road closure and I have to find an alternate route.
• I can stop at a visitors center or two without needing a "How will the kids handle it?" discussion.
• There's no one to hear my pleased reaction to the beautiful scenery.
• I can't stop and let Chad drive when the torrential rain and standing water elicits post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms.
• I can stop for ice cream without Chad asking me if it's really necessary.