Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Tying Up Loose Ends from 2015

2 Deer 1 Wolf

Our VW Golf TDI is named Wolf. Poor bastard.
First incident was about 11 at night, driving home from Crystal Lake to Ice Cave ride, up by Lewistown MT, in late October. A bunch of deer, running onto the road from the right shoulder. I braked and swerved, almost went off the left side of the road. I left behind a really cool cursive skid pattern for weeks. Almost missed the deer. In the end I clipped one, and broke my right front headlight.
Second incident was on the same road, the Columbus to Absarokee stretch, at the same time at night, also in Wolf. This time on my way home from work. Hadn’t even fixed Wolf yet, the headlight was still broken. This one was different: there was no swerving; this was the worst deer collision I’ve had in twenty years of driving around the Rocky Mountains. This big buck was just there all of the sudden, like he teleported or parachuted. I barely braked. Almost totaled wolf.
Then, the crazy thing was, I had to swerve once and slam on my brakes once to avoid two crazy drivers on 27th Street in Billings in the next few weeks, driving Obelix. 

The Record

Walker’s has been open for 22 years. They have a very good POS (computer) system that keeps detailed categorical records. A few weeks ago, on a night when a bunch of events took place in downtown Billings, I set the all-time record for sautee dishes in one night.
I did 62 pasta dishes in one night. No NYE, no Valentine’s or Mothers’ Day or Prom, no night in 22 years matched what I saw in one random night a few weeks ago. This station also makes sauces for fish, and veggies for steaks, so I was involved in even more meals than the 62 dishes I cooked start to finish.

Magic Tree

Christmas was great this year for us. It was just a year where all the gifts, the meals, the weather, etc, it just all came together. We all thought part of it was the tree. Rose and I cut it down from Red Lodge Creek area, and it was just a special tree. Something about it, a touch of magic or something. It’ll go down, like my 62 pastas, in our family record book.