Popcorn Bags

A lot of our equipment has come to us through the decades by chance or good fortune. In 1983 the Herpetology and other sections of the National Museum shared the 1501 Carling Avenue Beamish Building in Ottawa,  (which had been the warehouse of the failing chain of Beamish Stores) with some general storage warehousing. 

An old Jewish janitor, with the thriftiness traditionally ascribed to his ethnicity, was reluctant to follow orders to pitch boxes of popcorn bags from a failed "Canadian Heritage Food" enterprise (which had evidently splurged too much of its startup capital on these wonderful bags) into the dumpster, and repeatedly urged the museum staff to make use of them. The late Mike Rankin (as thrifty as a Scottish background is supposed to make one) accepted several of these boxes, and dispersed them among Herpetology, Ichthyology, and us. We have since then inherited the museum's stock of popcorn bags. 

Just Put Oats In It...

A few days ago, Fred was doing an inventory of the fridge and dragged out the covered glass bowl of cream cheese icing that had been rejected by our daughter as not stiff enough to crown her batch of cupcakes.

Fred has a longstanding tradition of mixing oats in with everything - or adding anything to oats - and putting it in the microwave. I used to complain about having my carefully saved leftover vegetable soup thickened with oats and a splash of umeboshi vinegar and fried in leftover chicken fat.

I kept trying to explain to him that I liked my oats sweet, not savoury... but recently we've come to an agreement -

Salvaging Firewood

I find great satisfaction in every stage of salvaging firewood! First off, it doesn't cost anything, especially if the landowner wants to get rid of standing (and leaning) dead trees, and is willing to use their chainsaw. That's convenient and useful for both parties - and the experience of being out where the birds are, working together, getting good exercise, and bringing the wood from where it grew to where it can provide heat for us, feels more like a privilege than anything else. Here we