Don't forget to thank a Vet today...

 and everyday.

I bought Paul breakfast for his service to our country.

Thanks Paul!

Instant Karma (of the Good Kind)

         

 

     They are found everywhere in America, from metropolises to tiny burgs and all the places in-between.

     I’ve collectively nicknamed these bands of men the “early a.m. coffee klatches.” They can be found in our nation’s cafés, diners, McDonald’s, and gas stations. One can discover them wherever a cup of Joe is being poured. The one stipulation for making these sightings is to be a 0-dawn-thirty riser like me. With my early bird schedule, I am always on a collision course with these good natured, good ol’ boys.

     Their caffeinated banter is centered on harmless jibes, local news and gossip, sports and bumper-sticker sized solutions to the problems or our nation and the world. I think of it as a live version of the “Today” show minus Rockefeller Center and Al Roker.

     While traveling through the Northwest in the vicinity of Mount St. Helens National Monument, I was on a layover in Cougar, Wash. At 6 a.m. most of the lights in town were off (there weren’t many to begin with) except at the gas station. I pulled my camper van into the parking lot hoping for at least a cup of java and at best a breakfast. I was fortunate to score both and an animated coffee klatch to boot.

     After placing my breakfast order at the kitchen, I took a solo seat near the gaggle. As is my usual custom, I brought in a load of maps and hiking guides to help me figure out the day’s game plan. When my maps were spread all over the table, the local gent’s natural curiosity was piqued. A few came by to dispense advice on places to see and things to do. Most of the information was geared more toward ATV or equine travel than hiking, but I shook my head and smiled just the same. After a while they returned to their seats and their usual routine.

     I went back to looking at my maps, eating and eavesdropping on their conversations.

     From what I gathered they were a group of Army veterans spanning the years between the Korean conflict and the Vietnam War. One or two of the more vocal ones told war stories as if they were in a fox hole with bullets flying yesterday.

     I finished my breakfast, collected my maps and made my way to the cash register. I stopped in front of their table and interrupted them for a moment.

     “Thank you for your help on the local scene.” I allowed that to sink in before I added, “And thank you for your service to our country.”

     With that I walked away.

     A hush fell over the crowd before one of them piped up, “Wow! It would be nice to hear that more often.”

     So in conclusion, thank a Vet. It won’t cost you a thin dime, and the payoff might be priceless.

     Think of it as performing a random act of kindness in an often time not so kind world. It’s a win/win situation for all.

Comfort through the Chaos through...

Cooking. 

A few weeks ago, I posted about the correlation between my stress levels and restlessness.

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/10/ive-always-been-restless.html

Since then, the O-dark-thirty hours are the majority instead of the minority. While camping there’s barely enough available sunlight to heat a Solar Shower. I’ve also witnessed frost on my windows. With less then 24 square feet of living space in my camper, claustrophobia was starting to set in. Alas it was time to extricate Sanctuary Too off my truck and place it (lovingly) into hibernation. Sniff. Sniff. 

Since then II, the Election has come and gone. There’s a Constitutional Crisis brewing because President Me! Me! Me! has no comprehension of the Rule of Law, US History or basic math. Oh yeah, Covid is rampaging too, but in a quieter fashion. 

So my comfort traveling days are done for now. I’m seeking solace in alternative ways.

I’m cooking! 

I know, not as exciting as camping and hiking in amazing WiFi-less places, but I’m making do.

I’m going all out comfort foods: Chicken Marsala, Pad Thai, Cashew Chicken, Potato Latkes, Pasta with veggies. All spiced in an underwhelming manner instead of shockingly. I desire subtle. 

Of course, I’m dicing and splicing  my All Time Favorites too: Minnesota Soup (inspired by my Mom)

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2020/01/minnesota-soup.html

and Sambini’s Famous Kosher Green Chili.

Let’s face it, most of us crave a return to the good natured real family values of honesty, affection,  humility, kindness, generosity, displaying  empathy and being polite and civil. In other words be a Mensch.These traits shouldn’t be looked upon as human frailties or being a wussy. This is what separates us from the rest of the Animal Kingdom. 

So... in an effort to bring about a kinder, gentler World and Country, I’m willing to  share my Green Chili recipe. Mind you this is 42 years of tweaking and revisions to attain this final perfect outcome.

Think about this. A First Generation American Child of the Holocaust has created this very Mexican comfort food. Now that’s What Makes America Great! 

Enjoy! (I’m willing to dole out samples to the Durango locals and my neighbors.)

Cheers!

Jeff

Sambini’s 🌎 Famous Kosher Green Chili Recipe

Over 40 years in the making! OY!

Ingredients:

2 BIGLY cans of Hatch Green Chili’s (other brands work too) drained

One jalapeño pepper diced

1 can of Pinto Beans drained

1 can Black Beans drained

3-4 medium sized red potatoes cubed (parboil them and set aside)

4 skinned deboned chicken breast cut bite size.(toss them into a bag of flour (2 light handfuls shaken not stirred) 

Veggie broth (use about half boxed container)

Two medium sized Sweet Onions or 1 HUGE one Diced

Two Bigly beefsteak tomatoes diced.

1 teaspoon kosher salt (of course)

1 teaspoon Black pepper 

1.5 teaspoon cumin

2 hefty tablespoons of diced garlic ( I use the kind that comes in jars)

Olive oil but just enough to fry the onions and chicken

How to:

In a Caste iron Dutch Oven (works best)

Use enough oil to fry the onions up nice. Then add the chicken/flour mix. Might have to add more oil, but don’t OD on it.  Chicken doesn’t have to be cooked through and through. Just enough so it’s not raw

In a blender: 

Place one can Hatch GCs. A diced tomato, diced jalapeño add enough broth to cover the bottom one third to half. Blend until it looks like a purée. Toss this into the Dutch Oven. Repeat with other can of GCs and second tomato 

Toss in parboiled potatoes, spices and simmer at low heat for many hours. I let mine go about 6 plus. You want this concoction to look like a stew. 

When it looks like a stew. Crack open an IPA, Or Margarita, grab a tortilla and enjoy with others.

I’m Proud to be a Great Old Broad...

for Wilderness. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Jeff, did you have a sex change operation?”

No. Not at all. I’m a member of this organization. I’m considered a Great Old “Bro.” 

Here’s what the GOB are all about:

A worthy cause? I think so. I am one of 8,500 associates in over 40 chapters.

The GOB are fighting the good fight. They are BIGLY on conservation advocacy and education. 

I truly believe women are better suited at presenting a point of view than men. The “XY“ segment of humanity has an over-abundance of testosterone. This hormone can cause aggressive tendencies. Women are capable of discussion. Men come out swinging. 

So... at the height of the Covid lockdown, Suez J. from our local chapter of GOB reached out to us members for interesting and inspiring stories. I submitted this one:

Planting a Tree…                                                                   

                                                                                          

My father, a survivor of Hitler’s insane concept of human genetics, planted a tree at our house in the Bronx. The sapling was a two-foot white pine that my father appropriated from the Catskill Mountains, AKA in the “Big Apple” as the Jewish Alps. “Jeffy, watch! This tree will one day be taller than our house,” he proclaimed. Like a faithful son, I believed him.

 

One winter, a Nor’easter blizzard blew down along the eastern seaboard. The heart-attack-heavy snow broke the tiny, white pine in half. My dad, a tailor by profession, but whom Uncle Sam trained to be a medical assistant in WWII, sprang into action. He fashioned a splint made of a few sticks, a side order of rags and a lot of twine. With these meager tools and devices, he made the wounded tree whole again. He reasoned, “It works for people, why not trees?”

 

In 1978, I escaped the hassle and hustle of the Big Apple and moved out West. Now I, a son of a son of a tailor and graduate from the Syracuse College of Forestry, nurture trees at my home in Fort Collins, Colorado.

I can’t take all the credit; I get a lot of help from Mother Nature. Neighborhood squirrels burrow acorns into the mulch and forget where they placed them. A white-oak sapling will arise a season later. My furry friends do the same with apple cores and cherry and peach pits. I have a virtual fruit stand growing in my yard. We haven’t had much luck with avocado pits yet. When the oaks, peaches, apples, cherries and ashes grow too close together, I’ll go in and do a “thinning operation,” and rearrange some saplings. Once in awhile, I have to place a few up for adoption.

 

Letting go of my green children is always a difficult process. First I have to find a suitable “parent.” Then the lengthy application process begins. With questions such as, “Are you aware that Colorado is now in a drought?” Then a follow-up query, “Will you be able to provide an adequate supply of water for this young plant?” After that, I quiz the applicant about his or her general knowledge on such diverse topics as soil conditions, fertilizers and peat moss. Only when I am satisfied with their answers will we venture out Into the yard with a shovel in tow. As we dig up the adopted seedling, I make sure the new owner understands that I get visitation rights. It’s never easy to let go.

 

In the fall of 2000, I went back east to visit family and friends. I borrowed a car and drove out to see my childhood home in the Bronx. I was glad that I had faith in my Dad. He was right; that white pine tree is now taller than the house.

 

Do yourself a favor; plant a tree. It’s good for the soul.

 Suez liked my story. She asked me if I’d be interested in being interviewed for a podcast. I agreed although I know my sister-in-law, Robin is correct when she once said, “Jeffy, you write better than you speak.” 

Here’s the podcast link:     

  https://greatoldbroadsforwilderness.podbean.com/e/jeff-sambur-for-the-love-of-trees/

Please consider becoming a member of the GOB. https://www.greatoldbroads.org/

They are cool with you being an XY chromosome type of people.

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Let’s all keep fighting the good fight.

Cheers,

Jeff