Happy Birthday

Alfred Hitchcock. How did I know? Check out google.

My wife has the common sense in the family

And this is the perfect example. How many of us (ooo, ooo, me! me!) have bought a PC and gotten a decent printer thrown in with the deal? Or found a nice printer for a dirt-cheap price? Did you ever notice though, that these printers all take ink cartridges that cost about $30.00 a pop? It's so expensive to use these printers that you ration out the pages, because you need a new cartridge but want to wait until payday to get it.

See the title? My wife. Went to the geek-store and found the cheap cartridge, black for $6.00, color for $10.00. Less on sale. Then went and bought the printer that used those cartridges!

I never would've thought of that. She still keeps me around though, because I do the laundry.

Busy busy busy day

Oldest daughter going to school, fax machines runneth rampant all day between here (Virginia) and there (Michigan). She's now fixed with an assigned dorm room, has her roomies names and phone numbers, has her meal card (or whatever they call it) all set up, got her eyes examined (needed doing anyways, she's fine), and I got the info she/we needed about keeping her under my health plan while she's in school out of state.

And all that is today.

New links

Over on the right, even more people to drop in on.

Once a vet told me about being ambushed: "When it happens, everyone just rock'n'rolls in whatever direction they're facing. Then it gets quiet, because everyone runs out of ammo and has to change magazines at the same time. Then you get selective and space out your shots, because nothing sucks worse than reloading, and seeing everybody doing the exact same thing."

Which is very much like blogging, a million posts one day, collective vapor-lock the next.

Say hello to Alphecca, Velociworld, Wince and Nod, Serenity's Journal, Silent Running, and Happy Furry Puppy Story Time with Norbizness (that's the last time I type the entire name out Norbi). Once again, in no particular order. Enjoy.

Insufferable

That's me today. You see, my oldest daughter got the word yesterday that she's been accepted into the college of her choice. I'm the prototypical proud papa.

This is kind of an unusual situation, and very late notice since classes start next week, so we've got to hustle and get her up to Michigan this weekend. Fortunately she's been semi-packing and preparing for this eventuality for a couple of weeks - just in case - so it's not an absolute standing-start.

Wife and Mookie, recently back from Canada, will have to turn right back around and hit the road again northward to take Robyn and help her get settled in.

She doesn't even have time to give 2-weeks notice at work. Her office manager might will be pissed, but the owners of the company she works at will understand. And Robyn will probably be able to work there whenever she's home on breaks if she wanted to. Still, I'd love to be there when Robyn tells them she's leaving, because there's a good chance the office manager will spontaneously combust. Or maybe her head will explode like in that movie "Scanners". Boy howdy, what fun.

In a curious coincidence, we got our tax-refund check yesterday. It was only for one child because of the timing, but that's better than nothing. We decided to take that money and use it to get Robyn settled in up in Michigan. That way she won't have to try to take everything cross-country or, more importantly, send back a bunch of useless crap. Uh oh, I just realized that we're going to be putting that money back into the economy! That makes us a family of 'eeeeevil republican capitalists', doesn't it?

If When Mookie reads this, she might feel cheated out of 'her' share of that refund. But Sweetie, remember what we've always told you: we love your sister more than you life isn't fair. Besides, mom and I have already figured out what we want to get you.

Therapy.

Odds and Ends

Kelly over at Suburban Blight has been kind enough to mention me in her superlative Cul-de-sac and complimented me in my comments. I enjoy the time I spend at her blog, you should definitely visit her if you haven't already.

She also had some less-than-supportive email from an ex-reader who complained about the direction her blogging had drifted. Kelly, this is for you!

ChromeDome has some must-see photos of the palaces in Iraq. Thanks to Lt. Smash for the heads up.

Tiger has moved... about 2 paces to one side. The link over on the right has been adjusted.

And I've collected some more taglines and posted them to the archive (also on the right).

Skinning that proverbial cat

If you've read Trinity over on Eject!Eject!Eject!, then you've already heard of these guys. Burt Rutan is most famous for designing and building Voyager, which was piloted by his brother Dick Rutan and Jeanna Yeager and flew around the world without refueling.

Dean Esmay passes along the report that their newest endevour; SpaceShipOne and White Knight, have successfully achieved yet another milestone as they attempt to conquer space. For more details about these remarkable craft, you can download this .pdf document.

People like this don’t need major motivation, but it can’t hurt. And among the major incentives are the 10 million dollar X-prize, which was established to promote civilian space tourism. In order to collect, the winners have to design a craft capable of carrying 3 people to 100km (62.5 miles) altitude and bring them back safely. Then they must repeat the launch with the same craft within 2 weeks.

This is a follow-on to the unclaimed CATS prize. CATS, which stood for Cheap Access To Space, required the construction of a craft which could loft a 2kg (~5lb) payload to an altitude of 200km (120 miles). The craft was required to be a completely civilian project, without government involvement. Several attempts were made, but none successfully, and the prize went unclaimed as the time limit expired.

Among the enthusiasts involved in today’s civilian space race is a group of hobby rocketeers from England known as MARS (Middlesex Amateur Rocket Society). I’ve talked to these guys, and they are passionate and dedicated to their stated goal of putting “Britain back into space”.

Some of these pioneers have already fallen by the wayside. A revolutionary design called the ROTON underwent some flight testing before the company went bankrupt.

So keep looking to the skies. These ‘gimmicks’ of tourists in space and weddings from orbit are only going to increase in number. As mankind has done throughout history, eventually someone decides that expanding into the next frontier will be a good thing. And once that decision has been made, it’s only a matter of time.

Tandem Writing

This is a story that's been going around for years. Do a google on it, and you'll find many references and variations. Here's the version I originally heard:
-----------------

English 44A SMU
Creative Writing
Prof Miller

In-class Assignment for Wednesday

Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.

(what follows is the assignment turned in by Rebecca and Gary)
----------------------------------------------------------------

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow'em out of the sky!"

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

Asshole.

Bitch.

Silent Service stuff - 2

A while back I wrote about the history of some of the names of US Submarines. You may remember that I was concentrating on some non-American heroes who are honored by our naval forces. As promised, here are more brief bios and references for some of the other historical Americans who now have submarines named after them. I present the John Marshall (SSBN 611), John C. Calhoun (SSBN 630), Sam Rayburn (SSBN 635), Nathaniel Greene (SSBN 636), George Bancroft (SSBN 643), George Washington Carver (SSBN 656), and Glenard P. Lipscomb (SSN 685).

John Marshall
President John Adams appointed him to the American Mission to France to aid in trade negotiations. Marshall's steadfast refusal to bow down to French demands for bribes to Tallyrand and others caused a deepening of the rift between France and the United States. Later he served in the House of Representatives, as Secretary of State, and became the fourth Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

John C. Calhoun
American statesman and political philosopher. He served in the federal government successively as congressman, Secretary of War, Vice President, senator, Secretary of State, and again as senator.

Sam Rayburn
Known affectionately as "Mr. Sam" by his friends and colleagues, Sam Rayburn served as congressman during the administrations of eight presidents and participated in the passage of most of the significant legislation of the first half of the twentieth century. Rayburn's personal integrity was legendary: he accepted no money from lobbyists, he went on only one congressional junket in forty-eight years (he paid his own way), and he even refused travel expenses on speaking tours.

Nathaniel Greene
An American Revolutionary War general, he was second to only George Washington among the military leaders, but many consider him Washington's superior. He is noted for his triumphs against the British in North and South Carolina.

George Bancroft
Highly educated and widely travelled, George Bancroft published a famous series of volumes entitled "History of the United States". He served as Secretary of the Navy under President Polk, and was appointed minister to various european countries.

George Washington Carver
Arguably one of the greatest scientists in history, this man who was born into slavery devoted his life to helping his fellow man. His work with existing crops developed hundreds of new uses, for which he refused money for commercial exploitation, instead freely giving away the processes for the good of mankind.

Glenard P. Lipscomb
Long serving US Congressman from California.

What is it about California elections that bring out the celebs?

Peter Ueberroth, Ahhhnold, Gary Coleman, and now Mary Carey (not work safe). And before anyone claims that she's a little light on experience, you have to remember that she makes her living screwing people. So she'd have to learn how to do it wearing clothes. Big whoop.

Nude Jumping Jacks. Tell me that doesn't soar. "Read my lips" just doesn't compare.

Thanks to Kin for this link. He's got some good things to say about it too.

Funny T-shirt

I want one of almost everything they sell, but it's probably because I need serious work on my social skills (this according to my cheesedick boss-hole during my last performance review).

Here's my favorite.

Update: Apparently this site rotates it's page addresses or something, and the original link doesn't go where I wanted it to. So if you want to see it, you can go to the site, and look for the shirt that says:

W.W.J.D.
for a klondike bar

Then again, since I just told you what the t-shirt says, what's the point of going there?

Tagline updated

Over there on the right. If you have any good ones, put 'em in the comments here and I'll add them to the archive.

Five Questions for Stevie

1. Mountains, beach, or desert?

2. Whats the best pet you've ever had, and why?

3. How do you deal with stress?

4. If you could sit down with anyone in the world and talk for 5 minutes, who would it be, and what would you say?

5. What is your favorite meal?

Excerpt from a military lecture on Guidance

The missile knows where it is at all times. It knows this because it knows where it isn’t. By subtracting where it is from where it isn’t or where it isn’t from where it is – whichever is greater – it obtains a difference or deviation. The guidance subsystem uses deviations to generate corrective commands to drive the missile from a position where it is to a position where it isn’t, and arriving at a position where it wasn’t, it now is.

Consequently, the position where it is, is now the position that it wasn’t, and it follows that the position that it was, is now the position that it isn’t.

In the event that the position that it is in is not the position that it wasn’t, the system has acquired a variation, the variation being the difference between where the missile is, and where it wasn’t. If variation is considered to be a significant factor, it too may be corrected by the GEA. However, the missile must also know where it was.

The missile guidance computer scenario works as follows: because a variation has modified some of the information the missile has obtained, it is not sure just where it is. However, it is sure where it isn’t – within reason – and it knows where it was. It now subtracts where it should be from where it wasn’t, or vice versa, and by differentiating this from the algebraic sum of where it shouldn’t be and where it was, it is able to obtain the deviation and its variation, which is called error.

( I have no idea as to the validity or accuracy of this, but it sounds like something the military would think makes sense. I’m going to go get an aspirin now.)

Five Questions

This is kinda cool. I was asked five questions by SilverBlue, and to keep the chain going, the first person that asks in the comments will get their own set of five to post on their blog.

Here are the ones I had to answer:

1. Beef, Chicken, Pork or Shellfish (no RABBIT!)? What's your favorite dish?

Pork. Beef. Chicken. Scallops or shrimp. In that order. Crabs are too much work, and I don’t like lobster or most fish. It’s funny too, because most of my best recipes use chicken. By the way, did you get that one I sent you?

2. What is Rachel (Mookie) REALLY like? (She seems so sweet!)

Rachael is very much her own person. She has a wicked and wry sense of humor. She also tends to keep her feelings to herself, and only occasionally really lets you see her heart. She’s a great listener, but can keep up her end of a serious conversation. She’s generous with her time and herself, with both friends and volunteer work. I’m amazed at the diversity of her friends, because she’s about as anti-clique as you can be. She loves to be foolish, but doesn’t tolerate stupid well.

You rarely see her without a book at hand, on our trips to the library we put a limit on checkouts to whatever fits into a plastic grocery bag. She’s recently and unexpectedly drifted towards the feminine, and although she still owns too many black t-shirts, her school-year purchases this year include many actual blouses and – stunningly to me – a skirt.

So in my (admittedly biased) opinion, she’s a punk.

Oh, one more thing. She was born in Germany, so French people are instinctively afraid of her.

3. On the topic of talking blue rabbits (myself included), do you feel the recent floods of rain in the eastern portion of the United States will have an adverse effect on carrot production?

I hope not. Our dogs love baby carrots as treats.

4. Who is your greatest inspiration and why?

Probably my dad, and next my wife. My dad is the most quietly competent and dignified man I’ve ever met, and I constantly try to be like him. He’s one of those people who, if you give him a hammer and a 2x4, will build you a spiral staircase. He doesn’t let things get him down, and he’s always there for you if you need a friend.

My wife has some serious medical problems. She seldom complains, and we sometimes forget what a challenge each and every day is for her. She’s my best friend too.

5. If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do, where would you go, and would you publish a book afterwards?
Good question. Part of me wants to visit a short list of people I think the world would be better off without, and make it so. Another part of me wants to go places where lots of pretty bisexual women get naked. I don’t know if there would be a market for a coffee-table book titled “Evil: Purple Faces and Bulging Eyes”. Being a selfish bastard gentleman, I probably wouldn’t publish the other either.

Rewarding day

Every so often Mookie and I are asked to do a presentation and rocket launch demo for a church or civic group, or school class or club. Last November, we were invited to talk to a local Cub Scout pack, followed by a hands-on session of flying rockets. I've posted some pictures here.

Helmet too tight or head too swollen?

Jeremy Shockey is a knob. If you read the recent article about him in Sports Illustrated, there was one telling passage that told of a play last year where he had the chance to score a touchdown or try to run over an opponent who he had a grudge against. He chose to run over his enemy, and didn't score. He also claims that he felt sorry for the kids he hit when he threw a cup of ice at them during the Niners game because their father took offence and complained. Yep, it's the dad's fault that you were a dick. The whole article basically painted him as an obnoxious and immature talent with a chip on his shoulder.

Now he claims he was misquoted in an interview where he calls Bill Parcels a 'homo'. How inconvenient that the interview was on tape, eh? He did something similar a while back on the Howard Stern show when he said some things that were anti-gay.

Jeremy Shockey needs to grow up, before he truly embarrasses the NY Giants (anyone remember John Rocker?).

Update: Now he claims he was kidding.

Screed

If you’re looking for serious and informative stuff, scroll on down past this post. Consider yourself warned.

I’m sitting here at work in the remnants of a Nyquil-induced fog, typing this as I wait for my tea (Earl Grey – and no, I don’t watch fucking Star Trek) to finish brewing. My wife felt properly and rightfully guilty about leaving me home alone when I got sick, so I’ve invoked the “Manly Right of Whining”, and am taking full advantage of the situation. I’m at work because my boss isn’t. She’s in training all day, and I can’t see wasting a perfectly good sick day actually being sick when I don’t have to. Besides, for work-related reasons I won’t go into here, nobody is allowed to get sick or take vacation this August.

So I shall ramble. If you’ve gotten this far, you saw the first line about ‘serious and informative stuff’, which means that I have stuff ready to post ahead of time. It’s true! I have several things in-progress at any one time. Which means two things: One, I respect the folks who visit my blog and care about being (or at least attempting to be) worth your time. Unlike this idiot, who wanders from gimmick (scabby biscuit) to gimmick (Dear Mushy), desperately trying to hide the fact that he’s got nothing to say, albeit in an entertaining way.

…and Two: because... I forget now. Never mind.


Q: What’s the difference between a porcupine and a luxury car?

A: The porcupine has it’s pricks on the outside.


I was reminded of this yesterday on the commute home. Stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic behind some clown in a Lincoln, who insisted on keeping two car lengths behind the car in front of him, which meant a constant stream of cars kept merging into the space in front of him, so he kept braking to maintain his distance, ad infinitum…

Asshole.

The ultimate commuter car is a tank. I want one. Since I can’t afford one, I’m considering the mounting of a couple of full-scale model Sidewinder Missiles on my truck. One facing forward, and one facing back. I shall redefine the term: aggressive driver.

On the way to work this morning I saw the first eruption of political vote-for-me signs. Soon they’ll be spreading like herpes across the landscape. People with certain names shouldn’t run for office. This particular one read “Vote for Puller”. Imagine that, a politician who’s offering a reacharound. That’s almost painfully honest, but I bet he’s still lying.

A woman at work was telling me that her kid brought home two baby chicks at the end of school. They were class pets or something. I asked her if she was going to fatten ‘em up for Christmas dinner. She said she couldn’t because her kid was already too attached to them. I suggested naming them “Original” and “Extra Crispy”. That would give the kid a clue about what chickens are for.

John went to a Halloween party last year as a Bukakke star. Or was that Kabuki? Either way, it involved way too much white makeup.

Do like I do, tie a string around your waist and go as the Equator. Unless you go to Mike and Sue’s this year, because I did it last year and that would be gauche.

Here’s a costume idea for Paul. Yeah, it’s pointless. Isn’t that kinda the idea? (I stole the link from here)

Bill, is that you? Sick bastard. Funny, but sick.

But is it too early to think about Halloween? It’s still August, for pete’s sake. Not if you've decided, like I have, to live life on “department store” time. So now is when I start dealing with Halloween, next week I’ll get into Thanksgiving, and right around Labor Day I’ll begin with the Christmas stuff. Ho fucking Ho. In fact, I may just say screw the whole timing thing and leave my holiday decorations up all year round, like some clueless fucks in my neighborhood. If this were my universe, the blinking light-encrusted elf would fall from the roof into the kiddie pool and electrocute his lazy ass while he lounges in it trying to beat the summer heat.

And finally (“about time”, shut up Tim), to Stevie: Yes, I want one of those hats. I’ve gone to their site, and they don’t offer them for sale dammit. For those too lazy to click on the link, it’s a company that manufactures artificial insemination supplies and sells breeding semen. Tell me you wouldn’t want one of those (hat, not semen), just for the entertainment value. And how does Stevie know about these?

A gentleman never tattles on a lady, so there.

Is it time to go home yet?

More Space-related History

This was originally printed in the LA Times 7/7/99 and reprinted in the NASA publication: Horizons.

The Story of a Tragedy That Was Not to Be
By JIM MANN

WASHINGTON--This column is about America's walk on the
moon and the untold story of one of the most poignant
presidential speeches in American history--a speech that never had to
be delivered.
In two weeks, this country will celebrate the 30th anniversary of
the day when Neil Armstrong and Edwin E. "Buzz" Aldrin Jr. stepped
onto the surface of the moon.
Over the past three decades, many of the details of that epic trip
have been told over and over again in books and movies. And so,
naturally, we now take it as a given that the trip was destined to be a
success--that the American astronauts, after landing on the moon,
would return home safely.
But it didn't seem so inevitable at the time. It turns out that officials
at the White House and NASA quietly made contingency plans for
what President Richard Nixon would do if Armstrong and Aldrin got
stuck on the moon and were doomed to die there.
There was even a euphemism for how such a tragedy would end.
The stranded astronauts would "close down communications" with
Mission Control in Houston and be left in silence, either to die slowly
or, perhaps, to commit suicide.
Nixon's speech was to end with these haunting words, in effect a
tribute to Armstrong and Aldrin: "For every human being who looks
up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some
corner of another world that is forever mankind."
I came across the remarkable documentary evidence of this
lugubrious planning a couple of years ago, while doing research in the
National Archives.
There, sitting in the files from the Nixon administration, was a
memo titled: "In Event of Moon Disaster." It laid out a precise
scenario for what Nixon should do if the astronauts' lunar vehicle
couldn't get back up off the moon into lunar orbit to hook up with the
command module.
According to the memo, once it was clear that Armstrong and
Aldrin could not come home, Nixon was to call the "widows-to-be" to
express condolences. He was then to deliver a speech to the nation.
Finally, at the point when NASA would cut off radio
communications with the moon and leave the astronauts alone to die, a
clergyman was to commend their souls to "the deepest of the deep," in
the fashion of a burial at sea.
The planning memo was drafted for Nixon's chief of staff, H.R.
Haldeman, by Nixon's speech writer, William Safire, now a columnist
for the New York Times. At the same time, Safire drafted the short
speech Nixon was to give.
Years ago, in a memoir about his time in the Nixon White House,
Safire briefly alluded to this secret planning.
"On June 13, Frank Borman--an astronaut the president liked and
whom NASA had assigned to be our liaison--called me to say, 'You
want to be thinking of some alternative posture for the president in the
event of mishaps on Apollo XI.' When I didn't react promptly, Borman
moved off the formal language--'like what to do for the widows.' "
Safire complied. His memo and the speech he drafted for Nixon
were retained in Nixon's White House files and now sit in the National
Archives. Here is the full text of this extraordinary speech:

Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore
in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.
These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that
there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is
hope for mankind in their sacrifice.
These two men are laying down their lives in mankind's most noble
goal: the search for truth and understanding.
They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be
mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the
world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two
of her sons into the unknown.
In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as
one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.
In ancient days, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the
constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes
are epic men of flesh and blood.
Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man's search
will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain
the foremost in our hearts.
For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to
come will know that there is some corner of another world that is
forever mankind.

The secret preparations serve as a reminder of just how risky was
the voyage to the moon. Confident of American technology, officials
at NASA and the White House still left nothing to chance. They
secretly feared something could go terribly wrong.
Yet these events are, in their way, also a testament to hope. We
may prepare for tragedy, but our worst nightmares rarely happen.
Three decades ago on July 20, Armstrong and Aldrin walked on the
rubble of the moon and then came home again. Nixon's undelivered
speech was thrown into a file and happily forgotten.

Thanks again to Jennifer! You betcha, I've got a serious Rocket Jones!

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinaaaaaaahhhhhhhh...

Since the last recipe I posted was so popular (I assume you all tried it and nobody got food poisoning or died so you all must have loved it. Don’t destroy my fantasy - thank you.), I thought I’d go ahead and share another. Trust me, these are good. Don’t worry about ‘trick’ recipes until we get to the “Mean Peanut Brittle” made with nuts and bolts and sold by young blind children to help pay for a seeing-eye dog.

Snickerdoodles

½ cup butter, softened
½ cup shortening
1½ cups white sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
2¾ cups all purpose flour
2 tsp cream of tarter
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt

2 Tbsp white sugar
2 Tbsp ground cinnamon

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. In large bowl, cream together the butter, shortening, 1½ cups sugar, eggs and vanilla. Blend in the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt.
3. Mix the 2 Tbsp white sugar and ground cinnamon together in a small dish.
4. Shape the dough by rounded spoonfuls into balls. Roll balls of dough in the cinnamon/sugar mixture. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheets.
5. Bake for 8-10 minutes until set but not too hard. Remove immediately from baking sheets to cool completely.

Makes 4 dozen.