NASCAR Nationwide Car of Tomorrow Needs Some Rules From Yesterday

National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, NASCAR.... The "Stock" part has gone the way of the DoDo. In the original days of NASCAR a guy went to the local dealer and bought a car, stripped it down and went racing. Obviously safety has played a big role in the changes in the cars but at a certain point the name has to change to National Association for Fabricated Car Auto Racing. There is absolutely no part or design that carries to the production versions of the cars. In the old day if you won a race on Sunday then the manufacturer sold cars on Monday! That was because you could buy the same car. NASCAR wonders why their ratings are down, well nobody wants to watch a bunch of cars that you CAN'T buy drive in circles. Oh boy Chevy got another win with their car YOU CAN'T HAVE!

Enter the modern muscle car wars, the big three all have a car in the new horsepower wars. Now Ford and Dodge have opted to use their muscle cars as the new Nationwide Series stickers. I say stickers because that's all they are. The cars have to be identical so they put stickers on them and call them their own. Chevy has opted not to partake in this offensive lowering of the bar for their muscle car. The Camaro has wide hips and very angular edges which would not work with the "template car".

So I say to NASCAR, and you should LISTEN! Remove the body rule from the Nationwide series and let the big three shoot it out and bring back the ratings. Require the safety standards but allow the skin to be just like production models and the engine to be available to the consumer and BANG! Win on Sunday Sales on Monday! People would watch the Nationwide series just as much as the Sprint Cup and it would generate excitement again.

So who's going to help me start my own racing series? Because you know the Bill France family is too dumb to do this.

Oh and I must add, the Camaro is selling so well that Mustang is cutting production and Challenger is barely hanging on. Camaro outsells the other two combined!

Nowhere Utah

What I've Gained with Ten

Ten years ago, I walked down the aisle and made the best decision of my life. I said Yes. With that answer, I've conquered many goals which would have been next to impossible alone. And what exactly have we accomplished? Maybe not what was planned that day, like a 1970 Camaro that is parked in our garage or the small home that we had hoped for on Davis Blvd. No, we've done more than that. We bought our first brand new car before celebrating one year, and our first home before two. We've started family traditions, like visiting Yellowstone every year in May, going up Green Canyon every fall to see the leaves, celebrating Thanksgiving in style by ourselves, and sleeping in until 10:30 every Saturday and Sunday possible. We've traveled beyond the small confines of our state, and even country. We've seen the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic, the North Sea, and the Irish Sea. We have just about fully remodeled a home with no expert's help. We had Kit, and now Jax and Nivia, who fill our lives with happiness. We've had our ups and downs, but mostly reflect on the ups, mostly. We were soul mates from the day Bryan called me Babes. And now have a strange sense of knowing when the other needs us. We've shared many laughs, few tears, and the occasional melt down. We've shared each other's passions, Bryan's for cars and photography and mine for traveling and crafts. We reflect the best in each other.
I've enjoyed the small moments; the silly dancing to Pulse and the 'slow' dancing to those magical songs that make time seem still. The endless giggling to silly anctics, and the smile it gives my heart when I know he's thinking of me. The meals spent together, whether next to each other on the couch, or out to dinner. The door that is always held open for me, car, house, store, wherever. And the big moments; like when Kit passed. When Nivia and Jax were placed in my arms, squiggling balls of joy. When we finished the upstairs bathroom and could use a shower again. When I stepped off the plane in Sacramento and ran to find my soul mate.
We've made many decisions, like deciding to retire the mechanic's toolbox for the big box. What to do when the dreams of a larger family were not going to happen.
Next week, the usual traditions of flowers will be given to me, and my sentimental card will find its secret way to Bryan, and we'll go out to dinner, but I've gained a happiness I would have never known by myself, and I look very much forward to every ten to come.

Steak & Ale Pie

During our UK trip in 2005, we drove through Wales. Our adventure had us spending a night in a very small Welsh town. It was a bed and breakfast that had an onsite restaurant, which was closed the night we were there. The owner of the inn suggested a couple different pubs to eat at. The first we couldn't find, and for fear of being lost in the Welsh countryside, we decided to go to the second which was easier to find. This pub was up on a hillside, overlooking the banks of a river. It was close to dusk when we ordered, and we decided to eat outside to enjoy the view and get away from the haze of cigarette smoke inside. I had a chicken & leek pie which was amazing. But Bryan had the ultimate: steak & ale pie. I had a sneak bite and it was wonderful.
Once we were home, we had to figure a way to make this pie. We tried a few different recipes, and this is what we have decided is the tastiest replica.
stewing steak, in cubes
chopped onion
flour
dijon mustard
Worcestershire sauce
thyme, chives, basil, parsley, majoram, bayleaf
salt & cracked black pepper
beef stock
ale
diced mushrooms
diced potatoes
pastry
If you have the ability, grind the stewing steak into ground meat. If not, buy ground steak. In a large skillet, heat some oil. Add the chopped onion and cook til translucent. Add salt and pepper, then the stewing meat. Brown the meat, then turn down the heat. Stir in about a tablespoon of flour and cook until browned. Add 1 T mustard, 2 T Worcestershire sauce, and herbs (do these amounts to what taste you like best; I usually do about a 1/2-1 t of each). Slowly add about 2 cups of beef stock and about 1/2 of a can of Guinness. Add in a few of the diced mushrooms. Bring to a boil. Add all of the potatoes and simmer for about 15 minutes, then add the rest of the mushrooms. Simmer for about 15 more minutes. Just before pulling from the heat pour in another 1/4 of the can of Guinness (you now have a 1/4 left; for those who like beer, drink the rest. But for those of us who can't stand the stuff, pour it down the drain). While the 'filling' simmers, make up the pastry. I do the traditional easy recipe, 2/3 c of shortening, 2 c of flour, 1 t salt, and 6-7 T of COLD water. Use half to make the bottom and blind bake in the oven during the 15 minutes of simmer with the mushrooms. Pull out and pour in the filling. Top with the rest of the pastry, with slits for steam escape on top. Cook in the oven at 400 F for about 35-40 minutes (until it's nice and bubbly and the crust is golden). You have to make this pie with Guinness. We've tried a few others (some cheapies usually) and they have all turned out horrible.

Every time we have this meal, I go back to the memory of sitting next to Bryan on a picnic bench, watching two Welshmen fish the river, listening to Welshmen cheer to football inside the pub, and watching the beautiful golden-blue Welsh sunset.

Bob Seger?

My house feels alive again. The past 13 weeks while Bryan was gone, it felt like a morgue. I'd come home to no lights, no noise, and not much warmth. The TV stayed black, nothing moved randomly out of place, and I stayed confined to the one corner of the house that had everything I needed. Now when I come home, the lights are on in almost every room, the TV's blaring with music, the counters are a mess, and Bryan's slaving away in the back corner room. We started into the final upstairs bedroom a week or so ago, and just finished painting the walls. Painting is extremely relaxing for me (no it's not the fumes that lull me into a hazy dream world). I like the rhythmic rolling of the brush and the time spent thinking away while accomplishing a mundane task. But it's even more special spending the time conversing with Bryan. I love his silly comebacks to every question I have. Like where's the stepladder? "If it was up your bum on fire you'd know!" Or the quacking ducks and barking spiders that have returned from their hiding places. The best random comeback he had was "At the breadstore". This was used for everything back in the day. Then while he was in Sacramento, he found a place called "At the Breadstore". We laughed our heads off and went there for breakfast when I visited, because now we had officially been 'at the breadstore'. The sound of his truck yelling its way home is wonderful. And the final tap of the throttle right at our pine tree as he downshifts to pull into the driveway is comforting. There's also the telltale signs of his scattered clothes all over the house; from where he was sitting on the couch working on the computer (more like finding every possible image and commentary on the Camaro), to his dirty painting clothes in the kitchen, just outside the bathroom where the unmentionables lie, to the socks from the night before lying next to our bed. Then there's the dirty oatmeal breakfast bowl sitting in the sink, where I've asked him to put it, but not rinsed (which is really weird, because the mornings he's almost late for work it's rinsed, but not the days when he has til noon). And there's the countless water bottles stashed everywhere, and the random piece of garbage in the recycling bag. The best part? Having him on the other end of the couch, like right now while I blog. A house needs life, and I wasn't hacking it. Neither was Bob Seger.

Resolution Steps

I hate when I get the itch to blog, but then have writer's block. How does that happen? I have all these ideas in my head, but they all step back at the same time, as none want to take the lead to start the flurry of thoughts.
Bryan finally completed SMTP and graduated. He only missed one answer on the final exam. And it was one of those questions that is philosophical, such that every answer works. There's not even one that trumps another. Disappointing. Now that this is finished, the next step is to complete the renovations on our home. We want the most equity possible, and adding a bathroom while finishing off the two bedrooms and open basement area will net us five figures. On top of this, we want to complete all of this by March, as the turnover of stores is usually higher at this time of year and we'll have a larger pool to choose from (fingers crossed). This will bring us to our next step, moving. We've lived here for over eight years now. This is the longest residence I've ever had in my life which is really strange to an Air Force brat. I will be sad to turn in the key and walk away forever from this home, but in the same breath I'm excited for new adventure. On top of all these aspirations, we also want to become healthier. Now that we're into our thirties, all the steps we should have taken in our twenties have become brazenly obvious. I'm finally an acceptable weight, but worry that I'll tip the scales the wrong way if I'm not smart. And Bryan needs to rein in his health as I expect him to live to 90. Then for the tippy top step, I've decided to try out my entrepreneurial side, and begin an extremely small business. I don't expect much gain from this venture, other than experience and maybe some courage to jump off these steps into a larger business one day. We'd be good at this, but unfortunately (maybe?) my realistic side keeps my hand gripped to the staircase rail.

More Hawks

We were out driving today and noticed a massive hawk on a post. It was the biggest I have ever seen, about 18" tall while on the post. As I got out of the truck it took off and hid in the field. We then went about a mile down the road and came across another hawk not near as big. It had an injured leg and didn't move much. He moved from one post to another not far away and I was able to get a few shots. I love these birds.