Snack Attack

My name is Sean, and I’m a snackoholic.

There, I got it off my chest. And I feel much better.

My wife and kids would say, “Oh yeah… like that’s news.”

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I notice I most often snack when I am either bored or procrastinating, which is how I know I have a problem. Also, I eat small meal portions, so I wind up hungry between meals. Fortunately I’m not one of those people who eats a gallon of ice cream or family-size bag of chips when I’m depressed. I don’t eat anything when I’m depressed. Which might counterbalance my snacking habit, were it not that I’m hardly ever depressed. More

Random Thoughts for a Tuesday

One of the new little chickens in our coop died today. Something happened to its legs, which for chickens — like horses — is pretty much a death sentence.

New chicks (and two Guineafowl) at the water bowl

I’ve gotten used to a chicken dying occasionally — they get stuck in strange places, the coyotes get them, etc. — so it doesn’t phase me so much. Less blasé, however, am I than the chickens themselves. They just sort of step over their dead friend and continue about their business, casting each other glances every so often as if to say, “What’ya suppose is the matter with Larry?” More

Running Out of Ideas

Every time I launch a new post — which is twice a week — I get a little message from the hosting service that says, “Wow! Congratulations! This is your XXX post!!” I think I’m up around 160 now. (You can go through and count if you’re curious and don’t have any plans this afternoon…) That’s a lot of occasionally useful information!

Sometimes someone will say, “Aren’t you worried you’re going to run out of ideas?”

Package of samgyetang ingredients

I don’t worry about that. There are ideas everywhere I look. Last night at the Parkers for dinner I had a colorful conversation with my pal Nat (star of the post, “Sundays with Nat”) about whether we were going to kill our chickens and eat them after they stopped producing eggs (he is, we aren’t). More