I learned a few things this week, which dovetailed nicely with the opportunity to be thankful, not only for all the normal things that I tend to reflect on during Thanksgiving week, but these tidbits, as well.
First, I have been proudly recycling for many years, and my system might be considered by some to be a little bachelorly. For example, rather than take the empty olive oil bottles down a flight of stairs to the receptacle just in front of my house door, I tend to collect them in groups of as many empties that will fit on the little edge between my kitchen sink and the wall. That amounts to about 10 bottles, from recent experience.
Plastic recycling is a little more organized; I simply fill up a small plastic trash sack until it is overflowing. Then, I take it down to the containers outside in our back garden. The Müllmann generally comes by once or twice per week to make the collection, but sometimes the bins are overflowing, right about the time that I need to take my stuff downstairs. No real problem for me, but should any visitor walk in my kitchen, they might notice a big stuffed bag of empty milk cartons.
When it comes to paper recycling, the guys tend to pick that up less frequently, which is a bit irritating, as our paper bins fill up quite a bit faster, thanks to the constant ordering from the likes of Amazon and other online retailers. During a conversation at the pub this past Wednesday, someone mentioned the fact that pizza boxes are NOT to be recycled. At least, not used pizza boxes.
I felt really put in my place, even though the girl did not direct the statement towards me. I have been on a pizza kick all year, and have been dutifully (and incorrectly) putting my empty pizza box in the cardboard bin each week.
For a couple of minutes, I felt like a dolt. But, moments later, I realized that it is better to learn late than never, so I have refined my process and the pizza boxes will now go in the regular trash. As an aside, I tend to fill up my normal trash sack, then set it out on my balcony for a day or two before running it down to the trash bin outside the house. Shoving pizza boxes into a trash sack might force me to rethink my normal trash strategy, as the boxes take up a lot more space (than my normal trash).
Oh well.
Coincidentally, just hours before learning that I might be on the cardboard recycling police wanted list, I had an opportunity to learn how my laptop works. We were finishing up a presentation for a customer, which meant that I spent several hours on some video calls with various colleagues, including a woman from the marketing department. She called me right after a meeting, so just she and I were speaking when she commented that my camera was looking a little dirty, and she suggested that I perhaps wipe the lens of the camera. Well, I did that with her right on the call, and immediately discovered that...I had disappeared.
It was kind of an unsettling moment, aka. "now you see me, now you don't," and I did not have the slightest idea what happened. I assumed that my laptop camera had picked that given moment to stop functioning; I fiddled with the settings for a couple of minutes which did not improve anything.
Because I use a virtual background, the disappearing act was rather startling. The girl I was talking to sent me a screen shot, which clearly showed some smudges, but no Bryan.
After a quick reboot of my laptop, I was still stuck. I was sitting there thinking, "Gee, I am going to have to go buy an external webcam," which I did not find pleasing. All of my calls are done with video, so this was a problem. I cannot be without a camera.
I grabbed a cloth and wiped the camera again, feeling kind of helpless, knowing that "wiping" the camera is unlikely to make it function again.
The penny dropped when I discovered a little sliding mechanism. Said mechanism slides to the left and blocks the camera. Slide it to the right, and presto, the camera is on again.
My private laptop is made by the same manufacturer, and does not have such a mechanism. What threw me, though, is that the little camera light stays on the whole time, even when the camera is blocked.
I started an ad hoc meeting with myself, turned on the video, and was relieved to see myself. Again.
Just goes to show you that you can work 20 years in repair services, consider yourself relatively capable when it comes to knowing how stuff works, then find that you still can always learn something new.
Thanks.
I always get a bit sentimental during Thanksgiving week. Despite it being one of my favorite holidays, I do not really celebrate it in Germany, other than to speak with family and think extra thoughts of family and friends. And yes, a certain amount of reflecting on all the things that I am thankful for.
Thanksgiving Eve sparks fond memories, and this year, as I have just described, I had new reason to be particularly thankful, having just learned how to properly handle pizza boxes and laptop cameras.
Thus, I woke up Thursday morning feeling particularly creative. And somehow, against my better judgement, I decided I would fry my chicken flautas instead of baking them, as I have been doing for several years.
What a mistake that turned out to be.
I forgot how quickly out of control a frying pan full of oil can get. I also forgot that you have to really roll the tortillas tightly to keep them from coming apart in the pan.
For about 15 minutes Thursday evening, it was complete mayhem in my kitchen, as I had oil splattering everywhere, loose pieces of chicken bobbing around in the pan, half-rolled tortillas turning crisp on one side, and not crisp enough on the other.
And I still had half the batch to go.
I managed to avoid burning myself, and that was probably the highlight of the evening. In fairness, the flautas did taste okay, not least of all because guacamole and fresh made salsa solve a lot of the world's problems, but I could not bring myself to do the clean up that evening. I would leave that until Friday, and would also make a special note that baked flautas are not only easier and less messy, they are more healthy.
I will leave the fried flautas eating experience for my next visit to Uncle Julio's or wherever, somewhere where they know what they are doing.
And that itself is reason enough to be thankful, especially since I now know what to do with my pizza box, too.
see you out there
Bryan
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