Shocktober!

How the hell did it get to be October already? Herself and I were just enjoying some adult beverages on the back deck, watching the critters gambol on the lawn, and had to beat it indoors before the sun had truly set because we were freezing our whatsises off (of course, anyone wearing shorts and sandals on Oct. 1 deserves to freeze his or her whatsis off).

We had to fortify ourselves with largish glasses of Domaine Vindemio, a powerful red from Ventoux. Then I put the last of the green chile stew on the range. The low tonight could dip into the 30s and for that one needs green chile and red wine.

Come Wednesday, of course, we will need distilled sustenance — tequila, single-malt Scotch or a solid hit of uisce beatha from the auld sod. El Prezbo and the RomneyBot v2.012 square off that evening for their first debate, in Denver, and there is no way I can possibly watch that sucker stone cold sober. (See Charles P. Pierce for a guide on how to watch a presidential debate.)

The RomneyBot is in full kernel panic, crashing and rebooting and giving off a strong whiff of ozone, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all to see him in mid-flail offer Obama a couple of billion to move out of the White House and set himself and the family up in style elsewhere.

Chilly means chile

A pot of leftovers simmers on the stove.

The first pot of green chile stew is in the books for fall 2012.

I bought four bags of the green goodness — two medium, two mild — and got busy in the kitchen last night. There were plenty of leftovers, so you can imagine what we had for lunch on this cool, breezy Sunday.

And it’s a good thing I went with mild at the top end. Hot summers mean hot chile, and these “medium” New Mexico chiles were plenty hot enough, even though I altered my normal recipe to use two cups of mild to one of medium instead of a 50-50 split.

Seriously, I could feel the medium green dissolving my flesh as I peeled and chopped it. A word to the wise.

Nibbles gets gobbled

The Tomb of Chairman Meow has a fine color guard for Earth Day 2012.

Vince Nibbles, as Andrew Hood calls Vincenzo Nibali, nearly won Liège-Bastogne-Liège today.

When Nibbles went away atop the Cote de la Roche aux Faucons, Philippe Gilbert suddenly looked like he’d just taken a big hit from a spoiled bidon and the chase was as well organized as the House Democratic caucus. When Nibbles had 46 seconds in hand all the smart folks pretty much figured that was that.

And then Maxim Iglinskiy chased him down like Nibbles owed him money, and that really was that — the Sicilian was racing for second with just over a klick to go, and Astana was en route to picking up its second big win in a week after Enrico Gasparotto won last Sunday’s Amstel Gold. Gasparatto made the podium here, too, finishing third. Good times.

Good times here today, too. We’re looking at a sunny 60-something with light winds, and having already arranged for dinner — leftovers from last night’s killer stew of green chile, pork, onions, garlic and spuds — I have plenty of time to ride. Only one chore remains, the completion of an overdue column for Bicycle Retailer and Industry News. Some days these things practically write themselves; others, it’s like trying to drive ten-penny nails into mahogany using an old banana for a hammer.