Housekeeping, and Other Health Hazards

Ever have one of those days where you're just doing a random chore at home, and one thing goes wrong, which leads to another, and then suddenly you're contemplating the meaning of life and wondering if your will is up to date?

Here's how today went, over here... Via text convo with our oldest at some point this afternoon:

Am I the only one who can start with sweeping and end up with a freshly scrubbed kitchen, a bandaged hand, and shopping online for a new olive oil dispenser?  That glass was SO sharp, and it definitely seemed like a bad time to... not have secure footing.  

Suddenly I was hearing that old Blondie song in my head ONE DAY. OR THE OTHER.  I'M GONNA GET YA.  I'M GONNA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA, ONE DAY - 

(Also huge wail about the fact that I've had that beautiful oil bottle for like 20 YEARS). 

*facepalm*

Solving World Problems, One Train Crossing at a Time

Pondering the meaning of life while the conductor take a lunch, I guess

I'm pretty much convinced that society will not advance one iota until we have people who can figure out the simple science behind putting a railroad fueling depot 1/4 mile from a major traffic crossing and then allowing trains to pull in AND STOP at said fueling depot, which are exactly 1/4 mile, PLUS THREE TRAIN CARS, long.

What the actual heck. I mean, I'm no engineer, but I'm pretty sure this is simple math.

Not to toot my own horn (rim shot), but seriously.  If I'm reading it right, judging by the interpretive dance and/or gestures of the people parked next to me, this is beyond annoying. When I'm driving, I like to keep moving. I like to think of that as a basic goal of driving:  Arrive At Destination Without Unnecessary Delay.  If I have to stop and wait for a train, that's fine--it happens.  BUT to watch a train slowly crawl to a stop, and then sit stopped, blocking the crossing, and then actually back UP a little bit, I can feel parts of my brain kind of ...shorting out.  I need all the parts of my brain.  And I need to keep moving.  What usually happens in this situation is that I will actually duck out of the line of stopped cars and double back like six miles out of my way, to go around and back up to the railroad in an attempt to cross somewhere else. And yes, I have done this, arrived at the next crossing, and found another train coming in the other direction. *Internal screaming intensifies*.

The other day, I couldn't escape, so since I had the time, and in case this is hard for the nice folks at the BNSF Company to figure out, I decided to lay out the solution and make our world A Better Place. 

Ready?

Get a measuring tape. Have one dude walk from the fueling depot back to highway crossing. Look at the measuring tape. Have another dude walk down the length of the nearest train and look at HIS measuring tape. Write BOTH NUMBERS DOWN and compare.  If the train number is greater than or equal to (>/=) the crossing number, detach several train cars until the train measurement is significantly LESS than the crossing measurement.  So, x </= z - 3 cars.  Put away the measuring tapes, fire up the train, and move. out. of. the way.

The two dozen cars parked on both sides of the closed traffic crossing will thank you, and you'll get a lot less "one finger" waves, especially that suburban full of BNSF employees trapped in line directly behind me in line at this particular crossing.

*Inhales*

Option B:  Please pull 250 permits, hold 1,000 meetings, take half a million votes, have 19 years' worth of discussion, write 10,000 memos, invite The Public's opinion (but definitely don't listen to it), and then finally decide NOT to build an overpass at the crossing.

See? Problem solved. That took me like 5 minutes. 

Next.

Sorry It's Been a Minute-

Whoa, that was a long break.   I'm still here, but you know, life.

To recap, the Etsy shop took off after I started it last June and was SO MUCH FUN.  Like, why didn't I do this sooner?  What a perfect way to combine my gardening hobby, my crafting homemade things, and my overflow of herbs into someplace to actually sell them!  I love it, and it's been a nice little side income pretty consistently since.  Once I got started, I thought I'd just jot down a quick list of what I could possibly sell, and the list went to several pages.  Like almost 100 different listings.    whoa

The overflow herb garden last summer

The garden, preserving, and Etsy shipping stuff took up most of my spare time last summer and fall, then we did the family Christmas party for, um, (counts on fingers) 64 of our family again at our house, which was just a blast.  It's always lovely to see everyone crowded into our living room/dining room/kitchen and overflow areas, enjoying food and catching up with each other.  We are probably skipping hosting it next winter, because every once in awhile someone else hosts, which is lovely, and I get to just show up with a watermelon or something. 

So much else...but my most recent news is this.

I went on a Whole30 diet for a few months and lost 16 pounds last spring.  (hold your applause though)... And then, of course, I regained it through the summer with a bit of bread here and a bite of cheese there... because OF COURSE I DID.  I got so pissed about being back at my "Highest Weight Ever" that I angrily jumped back on our exercise bike back in January, thinking I'd kick my own butt into shape.  Not true, fellow bikers.  Not.  True.  After riding 30-60 minutes a day at 12 mph, uphill, six days a week, I...gained 2 pounds.  *insert sound of gnashing teeth here*

SO.  Since Shane was a tiny bit tired of listening to me being super down on myself about it and being frustrated with my general lack of not-having-the body-I-had-15-years-ago, he talked me into signing up for an actual diet plan with an actual diet coach, as a birthday gift.  I was against it, because I've always been all, "If I can't drive myself to exercise more and eat less, then I guess I DESERVE TO BE FAT," which is kind of a bad attitude, apparently.  After a bit of arguing about spending that much money on my bod, I finally agreed to trust him that it will definitely be good for me.  I've proven that I can rock maintaining a weight (sort of), since I've been basically THE SAME DAMN WEIGHT for the last decade, so I guess that's good, right?

I started it today, so I'll keep you all posted, but don't expect before and after pictures, though, because  1) belly rolls aren't fun to look at and 2) I don't know you that well.

Anyhoo, not that any of this matters, but I'm bored and I need something to do to keep busy, so I don't wander into the kitchen and eat all the things.  

I'll probably keep busy by trying to write more often again.  I keep thinking I'm fresh out of funny stories, but oh my gosh, there are so many new things I could tell you...Plus, I haven't finished with my Hippie Childhood saga yet, so stay tuned.

Exciting News and other Rainy Day Projects

So I finally did it.

You guys know I've been making stuff, and growing stuff, and preserving stuff, and knitting stuff, and baking stuff, for like (counts on fingers) A LOT OF YEARS, and of course everyone's always all, "you should totally sell things", but I've always shied away from doing a farmer's market because they have to get up at like 3 a.m. to pick herbs and veggies and then package everything and put them in the car and drive across town and set up a booth and load and unload and sell and explain and count change and all that, and I'm just too lazy for all of that.

But...

In the back of my mind has always been the thought that, yeah, the whole 'homestead' thing is kind of a big deal right now, and since I've been living the homesteady life since as long as I can remember, I'm fairly qualified to profit from my experience, right? Right.  I feel like I've been living this way since way before it was a cool new Movement or a trend or a YouTube lifestyle.  I've even milked goats!  I mean, I don't feel like I want to start filming my whole life and doing a YouTube channel, (although I could and it would probably be awesome, but again--lazy), but I do have the time to set up an online shop at Etsy, and that seems to be a good outlet for All The Things, and since I have such a wide variety of things I could market, I never wanted to be limited to a single stream.  Like, how confusing would it be to go to a farmer's market booth that sells honey and wax, candles, soap, knit hats and socks, possibly sweaters, garden seeds, dried herbs, infused oils, elixirs, body lotion and wound salve, AND jam and jellies?

So- what I DID do was go and open a shop on Etsy, which is still very much not filled out yet because when I sat down to jot down a few things that we grow here that I could sell, (like dried herbs), I ended up with a three-page list of products, just off the top of my head.  And since we're doing bees and honey now, we can add that to the list, so anyway yeah-- I'm on Etsy now.

Bear with me if you want to order things there, and I promise I'm not going to change this blog and suddenly be all-- BUY MY STUFF GUYS-- because I like this blog as it is, and I hate when blogs change and become all sales-y, so don't worry, this is probably the only post I'm going to yak about Etsy, unless I run into funny or weird things there to wisecrack about.  could happen

Excuse me now, while I spend the rest of the week trying to get decent photos and information up at the online store, because I've been on there all day and it's a lot more time-consuming that I thought it would be.  At least it's raining out today and I have some time to fool around with it, so - wish me luck.

Oh, PS, I'm on Etsy at  https://www.etsy.com/shop/NorthIdahoHomestead

...and on instagram @northidahohomestead

...and on Twitter @nihomestead

(not doing Facebook, and you can see why here)

See you there,

toodles-

The herb garden this spring--TOO MANY THINGS for two people

Beautiful chamomile picked yesterday

Chamomile, arnica and sage.  Again--too much, so why not sell it?

"Cell Phone Etiquette" - MORE STUFF I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO TELL YOU

Dude.

Put your phones DOWN.

Just oh. my. gosh.

I know it's been said before (a lot), but I figured that having reached nearly 50 years (which qualifies as "super old" to my 80s-teenager brain), I should add my voice, as part of that generation who has the distinction of being able to say we remember when people used to just have a phone at their house.  Tethered to the actual damn wall, by a cord...usually in the living room, where everyone in the house and possibly the neighborhood (if you had a party line, like us bumpkins), could hear every word you said.

We also remember, even further back in the mists of time, when -- if someone you loved was far away -- we'd get out a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope and WRITE THEM A LETTER.  Then we had to swipe a stamp from mom's purse and walk it all the way out to the actual mailbox.  Clear Outside.  And then go inside and wait for like 2-4 weeks to get an answer, unless the person decided not to write back, or didn't have time, or forgot about you (kind of like texting nonresponders nowadays, only way more depressing and time-consuming).

Anyhoooo

What was my point?

Oh, right.  Cell phones.

So, having said all that, what the heck, you guys.  We need some guidelines about when is, and when is NOT, an okay time to have your cell phone in front of your face.  I'll go first, and we'll see how long the list gets.  I'm not promising you "Top Ten" or anything, I'm just gonna go, in order of how they come to me.  Ready?

*inhales*

1.  NO CELL PHONES ON DATES.  Ever.  Not with boyfriends, husbands, acquaintances, friends, blind dates, lunch meetings, happy hour, or any other time where you are sitting with actual humans who drove in a car to a place to meet you, in person.  Phones need to stay, turned OFF and out of sight, for the whole time.  Not on the table.  Not in your lap.  Not in your hand.  Unless you have an elderly or young person who may or may not be bleeding out their eyes from a kitchen-related incident caused by your absence, you do NOT need to hear from anyone for that hour.  I mean it.  There is not one single damn thing that can't wait another half hour until you get back in your car to check your messages, texts, emails, Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat.  And if you check those things while I happen to be sitting across from you, I reserve the right to throw a drink in your face.  And you're buying.  That should be the new rule.  Check your phone = picking up the tab for the whole table.  Or maybe that's been done already.  I have no idea- I gave up on Internet news and Facebook like 3 years ago.

2.  NO CELL PHONES WHEN VISITING SOMEONE'S HOUSE.  Not for a party, not for a hangout, not for the Superbowl, and certainly not for a meal.  No phones.  Leave them in your car, and go outside to check them if you're that interested in what everyone who isn't at this place is doing right exactly now.

3.  NO CELL PHONES WHILE CONVERSING WITH A PERSON IN PERSON.  Oh, no, you did not just actually glance at your phone while I was talking, did you?  DID YOU??  *smack*  No.  Do not do that.  I promise you that stupid Vine video will still be there in ten minutes when we're done interacting in person.  You look at that screen one more time while I'm talking and I will pull a hammer out of my purse and give it a good bash.  See if Instagram can filter that mess.

4.  NO CELL PHONES IN AIRPORT WAITING AREAS OR SHOPPING LINES (or any other place people congregate to wait).  Oh...my...GOSH.  So much no right here.  No one wants to sit across from you while you yack loudly on your phone about your date last night, your current Facebook fight with some troll, your new Samsung product, your business meeting this morning, that one party ( 'member that one time...?), or how you spent the morning cleaning cat puke off the kitchen floor.  Stand up and go somewhere else, for the love.  How in the world have we become a society who thinks it's OK to force everyone around you to listen to your convo at top volume.  I can't tell you how many times I have had to get up and walk to another place to sit, because some dumbass won't stop shouting into his phone, sitting right against me in an airport waiting area.  Good Lord.  Do you actually not notice the other humans around you right now? Go away.

5.  NO CELL PHONES ON SPEAKERPHONE UNLESS YOU ARE DISABLED AND HAVE LOST THE USE OF YOUR ELBOWS IN A FREAK HAY BALING ACCIDENT.   This is for all you super-cool hotties out there who walk around holding your phone in front of your mouth like it's a piece of pizza you're about to bite into...speaking into it from a distance and forcing everyone else within a grocery-store-sized radius to listen in to every word of your oh-so-important chat about that girl last night with those pants, what was she thinking, omg girl, IKR, WTH.  I'd love to accidentally ram these people from behind with a shopping cart and knock their iphone 17.5 into the frozen foods exhaust fan.  Why in the heck must we listen to that?

I seriously remember when we used to leave the house, drive to town, go to school, the post office (yes), the grocery store, or go out for the whole night,  and our only phone was still back at the house, tethered to the wall.  And we were FINE.  We learned how to navigate with maps.  We learned to be responsible and tell someone "I'll meet you in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.", and we'd actually just be there.  No one got lost.  No one got left (well, sometimes we did, but that was only that one time when Mom was just done with our BS).  We could go to the fair with a big group and split up, and no one got lost, or trampled by a rampaging alpaca, or starved to death wandering hopelessly with no idea what to eat for lunch.  We didn't take 45 selfies for posterity, in our fake cowgirl outfits. We'd separate and make a plan (you remember those?), and we'd all meet back up, in the parking lot, by the big tree, at 4 p.m.

Where's Waldo...80's Edition.

                                               
And when we got home, if we were richie-rich enough to afford one of those cool new answering machines, we could check our messages by pressing a button, and see who, if anyone, had tried to reach us while we were not at home.  And if there was an emergency, well, yeah, they happened.  But the world didn't stop turning because we missed the call.

I remember taking whole entire road trips, across a whole entire state, with nothing but a suitcase and the car keys.  We thought it was a stretch to have to tell someone "Hey, we're driving to Seattle tonight, should be home Sunday."  It was enough.  Conversely, if we didn't make it home, from wherever, the people who loved us knew when that time-frame had elapsed where it was time to jump in the car and go looking around for us, or start calling our friends or their parents or our work, to see who'd seen us last, and where.  And that was enough, too.  We all survived.

We also did NOT need to see what everyone in our entire high school was doing, in real-time, every minute of the weekend.  Oh my gosh, that would have ruined life.  If you liked a boy, and you didn't see him at the local hangout on Saturday night...you didn't have the option to stalk him and several girls you hate on Facebook, only to find out (wailing) ...that they're all together right now omgwhyyyyy.  You'd have to fret and wonder all weekend, and then at school on Monday, you'd hear from a girl who heard from her sister, who heard from her boyfriend, who was friends with that guy you like, that he was at so-and-so's house this weekend and it looked like he was talking to whatshername and they may have left together and now your high school life is overrrrrrrr.

(Also, we didn't commit crimes over these facts, but that's another topic...)

Ok, that's my basic list of, ummm, five cell phone etiquette rules.  Feel free to add on from there...

I'm crazy about the lady in front.  Just...taking it in.  Love it.  

Images courtesy of smash.com and google images.

And a Hearty GOODBYE to 2017

You guys.  SO MUCH has gone on since ...um...(counts on fingers) last June.  Let's review, shall we?  You can also almost just zoom through and see the pictures, for a quick update on my life, but if you like to read my scattered off-the-hip updates, well, yeah...there's that, too.

We've had:  *inhales* ...A bunch of yard renovation, a wedding followed by a beautiful reception, a graduation followed by a gift Jetta, an empty nest, a funeral, my first first-class seat on a plane (OMG THE FRONT OF THE PLANE, what is even happening?), a great Christmas party, a cookbook published(!), a hip replacement, an amazing vacation, and...a wrecked gift Jetta.  *insert super-annoyed-mom eye roll here*

Oh, and I managed to crochet our newly on-her-own graduated youngest daughter a super cool afghan in February, and knitted a new scarf for myself this weekend, in between cross-stitching everysingledayevenonvacation on my giant recreation of the Lady and the Unicorn tapestry.  See?

I've literally taken this across the country in my carry-on, twice.

I also petted a MOOSE.  Yes, I know.  Dangerousssss.  I'm crazy.  Shouldn't have done that.  Etcetera.  But yeah, I totally did, and I was up on the porch safe behind a big pillar when I did it, and she couldn't get me, and she didn't seem like she cared, so I just went with it.  Since no one believes me that we had a totally tame-ish wild moose in our actual front yard (for like weeks, actually--the bushes barely survived it), I did manage to video the whole thing with my free hand while simultaneously watching her for signs of attack-moose mode so I could duck back inside and avoid being trampled or pummeled or beaten to death by her hooves, or whatever happens when mooses attack you.  Is "mooses" a word in that case?  No idea.  When "moose" attack you...that doesn't sound right either. Whatever.  Anyway, I totally petted her.  And I'm making "petted" a word, too.  I'd post the video but apparently it's not in the right format to upload, and I'm too lazy to figure that out, so here are some photos.  Maybe sometime I'll post the video in a separate moose-related post...

what are you doing?

Not sure that's a good idea...

Ok, whatev.  These bushes are too delicious.

We also had an orphaned baby hanging around a lot.  And, a whole other one (I hope!) who decided that our garden fence line would be a good place to...lie down and die.  (no photos of *that* but omg what do you do with a dead baby moose? No one wants to help you with that...)

Anyhoo...we're EMPTY NESTERS now, and it's hilarious how many people use that whispery-concerned voice when we tell them that, like we've just suffered a bereavement, and they ask "Soooo, how's *that* going? Are you guys, you know, doing ok?"  And we're like, "Ummm, yeah.  We're fine with it."  Why wouldn't we be?  We raised our girls to be independent, smart, capable women, and, voila---there they are; doing life, and rocking it.  Our oldest got married last April, and we hosted a beautiful evening reception in our back yard in June for them, followed by our youngest graduating from high school in June and moving to her own apartment in July.

Are they sweet or what?

Purple sky unedited and just...amazing! What a beautiful night!!

On a side note, I did totally finally manage to get that cookbook project published, which I promise I will write about in another post.

And, since Shane and I started out as best friends who also find each other incredibly hot (I know, awkward TMI), then took a detour into parenthood, we now find ourselves with all this empty house and free time together and, wait--what? --possibly some discretionary money that's just...for us?  What's THAT about?  When I find extra money in the bank account, I'm immediately glancing over my shoulder and wondering "Wait-what bill did I miss?" Still adjusting to that.  And guess what? IT'S FREAKING AWESOME.  It's like when we were in our 20s and we could just...get up and go out if we felt like it.  Out to dinner.  To the bookstore.  To Home Depot (yes, girls, we still do that on Sundays).  We may even take a road trip sometime.     

I know.  Crazy.

It helps that we still are best friends who find each other incredibly hot (even though we qualify as what my 80s-highschool self would call "totally super old"), and we still love to do everysinglething together and enjoy each other's company immensely.  I love that we have the place to ourselves.  I do love when our girls come and visit, and we have a houseful of young people hanging around, relaxing, eating and visiting (and yes, playing on their phones).  But then I love that they all leave and go home at the end of the weekend, too.  So, yeah.  Empty nesting is a revelation.

Ok, what else?  Oh, yeah-- I'll just state once for the record that 2017 MORE OR LESS SUCKED, in spite of some terrific bright spots.  In general, it was just like one punch in the junk after another.  Like, can we get a break here yet? And apparently the answer to *that* question was a resounding "no", for most of 2017.  Oh sure, it had its good moments, but seriously...2017 will be remembered as the Year From Hell, more or less.  Our youngest graduated and moved out, and we had about ONE WEEK of "whoopie, we're empty-nesters" before Shane was diagnosed with a destroyed hip joint that was rapidly deteriorating and would require a total hip replacement as soon as possible.  *cue Jaws music here*

For a guy who works outside, on his feet, in and out of equipment all day every day, this was bad news.  Bad, bad.  It also meant we skipped all the things last summer that meant walking anywhere.  No hunting.  No walking around the fair.  No wandering around Home Depot.  No walking ANYwhere that wasn't 100% necessary, because he was in so . much . pain.  And the narcotics and even the non-narcotics that they gave him for the pain made him depressed and super...cranky...to be honest.  Even he noticed it.  The hydrocodones also gave him terrifying nightmares along with the depression, so he mainly just powered through with Tylenol and Ibuprofen.  Not fun-- at all.  For either of us.

He dragged his leg around from June through December, barely able to walk some days because of the pain, plus his hip would randomly give out and he'd fall.  He did manage to work until December 13th, when he went in for a total hip replacement.  To make a long (long, long, painful) story shorter...he came through it with absolute flying colors and was back at work 3 weeks later, on his feet, outside, in the snow, moving logs.  My brother actually moved out and stayed with us for most of the winter, and was a huge help at the log yard and as a backup watchdog for Shane, which made me feel a little more at ease watching him go out in the snow to work.  I'd send them off to work in the morning and be mouthing to Jesse behind Shane's back "do NOT let him fall down!!"  So yeah...that's behind us, thank God.  I'm not posting any surgical photos, though.  You're welcome.

THEN we took a amazing and much-needed Disney trip to DisneyWorld with a cruise to the Bahamas and back, which was almost literally just what the doctor ordered.  Somehow we also rolled the dice with letting them assign our room category, and we scored the BEST stateroom ever, with like 40' of private deck at the back corner of the ship.  It was absolute heaven.  We've always gotten an inside-mushrooms-in-the-dark stateroom, but this was so worth it, just......so much yes.

our room was about 3 decks from the top, right side, upper corner.  HUGE wraparound deck...

And of course, I always get home from Florida and immediately start already planning the next time I can see palm trees because - duh - Idaho - palm trees.

As I write this, it is still cold enough to snow here (March 26th) and too early too cold to go outside and start on any garden stuff yet, though I do have my seeds and potting soil and trowel all at the ready, so I can get our vegetables started for this year.

We also bought a meat smoker, and I didn't think I would, but I've officially fallen in love with smoking our own meat!  So far we've smoked some salmon, our own bacon, and our own ham, and omg-- the taste...can't.even.  I die.  IT'S SO YUMMY.

My first smoked ham

Oh, and if you're still wondering about the wrecked-gift-Jetta from the opening, well, yeah...everyone's fine.  The Jetta's not.  So, that's probably about all we need to say about that...

Boyfriend: 1.  Jetta: 0.

Oh, and the Christmas party we sometimes host, where I make like 45 different appetizers that don't need a fork (no matter what Aunt Alice says..), and start baking in like October, was AWESOME.  We squeezed something like 64 people in our downstairs, and it was just a lovely time with everyone.  Shane's surgery was the following Tuesday, so we wanted to see everyone before he was down for recovery.  I'm already looking forward to doing it again this year.

The List

Anyway, I just thought I'd do a quick(ish) update.  Hopefully I'll start writing more often, now that 2017 is over and done, and it took its black cloud/punch-you-in-the-junk mood with it.

Plus, there are more of my hippie childhood stories that are too good not to share, so stay tuned.

Thanks for reading, and hope you're all having a lovely start to 2018.  It's gotta be better, right?

Oh Good. More Technology.

Ok, don't get me wrong.  I LOVE technology.  I'm all about cool new techie things and the latest updates of whatever programs our phones can download, and I even learned how to use the filters on Snapchat, so I am now totally able to reply to my daughter's snaps, in about the same amount of time it takes her to grow up, get married, raise a family, get old, and retire.

why can't we just text each other? 

What I am NOT with you on (or *them*, since I doubt that this was *your* idea...) is this Cool New Technology that Shane and I accidentally collided with recently at a well-known restaurant who will remain "Olive Garden".

First let me preface this with, yeah, I KNOW.  We haven't been eating out very often for....um...(stares at ceiling...counts on fingers...scrolls through calendar years...) Ok, like three or four years.  We haven't eaten out much for 3-4 years, except at our favorite local family-owned restaurant, where everything is still very low-tech, in the sense that actual people come to the table and ask you verbally what you would like to eat, and you tell them, to their face, and they disappear to go on a lunch break and/or leave to go check their laundry, and you sit waiting for what seems like too long to get anyone to come back and refill the water that you both already guzzled and whyhasn'tshenoticedthisyet, but eventually she DOES, and then your food comes out,  and everything's OK again, and we're all still friends.

HowEVER.

We hadn't been to a chain restaurant in awhile, so the other night, we were aimlessly driving around after watching a super-slow-ok-that-was-SO-not-a-sports-movie-Denzel film, and we just kind of ended up at Olive Garden.  Which is fine, because I love Olive Garden.  Or I used to...back when I was still allowing myself to eat carbs and stuff.  Anyway, I sucked it up and decided I was game for trying to find something on their menu that wasn't bread, or pasta, or breaded, or breaded pasta.  (good luck)

At first, it all seemed pretty much business as usual.  We were seated after a normal wait time.  We had a normal hostess give us menus and take our drink orders.  We politely nodded in disinterest when she pointed out the new little gadget on the table that looked like a small TV flatscreen thing and told us that we can "sign up for rewards" or something...I never sign up for ANYthing, so...yeah-no.  As soon as she left, I turned the TV gadget thingie around, facing out, because the LAST thing I want is a screen flashing in my face while I'm trying to enjoy a full-service restaurant dinner.

oh. my. gosh.  SERIOUSLY?    no

 Anyhoo.

We had a normal college-age boy come and say he'd be our waiter, and he did take our orders.  I'll call him Josh.  So..."Josh" brought out that big bowl of lettuce with oil and vinegar on it that doubles as "salad" at Olive Garden, and we more or less finished it.  He came back fairly soon and asked if we wanted it refilled, so we were like, "sure" because how filling can lettuce be?  And, could he also please refill the waters when he gets a chance? Sure!

And--Here's where it gets weird.

That was pretty much it.  Josh basically never came back.  Ever.

We sat forEVer, wondering what the heck.  Slid the empty water glasses way out to the edggggggggge of the table.  Looked around obviously like we're waiting for service, or a waiter, or ANYone to notice that we're still there.  Made choking sounds and slurped loudly from the empty glasses, trying to survive on the water we could suck off the ice cubes.  Stirred ice with our straws.

Finally a whole other guy, who seemed like the floor manager, showed up with our entrees.  We told him we'd love some water, and oh, could you also tell Josh not to worry about that salad refill? 'Cause we've moved on to dinner now.  Him:  Sure.

We finished our dinner and sat there, waiting for Josh to reappear.  Forever.  I think I actually gained some more wrinkles while we waited.  We decided, since it's been so long, maybe we should check out desserts.  Oh, wait, there's no menu on the table for desserts except....wait.  What about this?  I turned the stupid little TV thing back around to face us, and lo and behold, there were hi-def pictures of their desserts right there on this little screen.  

Exactly like this

THEN I noticed that not only was it an ad for their desserts, it had a touch screen button that said something like "order now" or "add to cart" or something, and another button that said "more water" and another one that said "call server" or something, and then it hit me.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

We're supposed to figure out this stupid gizmo/tablet/ipad thingie on our dinner table, during dinner, in order to make these things happen???  Is that why Josh never came back? He's crouched somewhere in the back, on a headset, waiting to be paged by a computer?

*hard eye roll*

I set the little screen thing back down, facing away, crossed my arms, and refused to buy into their new program. We waited some more.  Looked around, obviously searching for our waiter.  Nothing.

After another eon passed and we both aged even further, and/or possibly cashed in our Roth/IRAs, "Josh"--the actual dude, who must have realized we were not "on board" with the kiosk or ziosk or whatever--finally materialized, and we were able to communicate directly to him, using words and some basic hand gestures, what we wanted for dessert and that we'd like it to-go, and that we were ready to pay.

I handed him my debit card, which he handed back to me and said "Oh, no, you check yourself out."

Me:  --  *eyebrows go up*

Him:  *turns the little TV screen back around to face us*  You swipe your card right here and do your purchase on the screen.

Me:  --  *holding debit card in midair with eyebrows still up*   Are you joking?

Him:  No.  *pointing to screen, which is now configured with our sales receipt*  See?  Right here.

He's looking at me like I'm visiting on a special outing from the Alzheimer's wing of a nursing home.

I notice that the TV thing has suddenly apparently sprouted a card-reader swipe thing on one side, so I swipe my card and the screen takes me to the "tip" portion of the transaction, which is like a slide-rule thing that you can touch to change the tip percentage, but I notice that it is conveniently set to like an automatic 20+ percent tip.  I slide it to the left...20-18-15-13-12-10---- slide, slide, sliiiideee  c'mon where's the 0%?  I'm out of luck.  It stops me at a MINIMUM of 10% for Josh, who has done basically NOT A DAMN THING for us except bring out our salad and to-go boxes.  A whole other guy did the job of bringing our entrees, and no one ever did refill the waters.

So I kind of sneakily clicked on the lowest possible tip, because "Josh" hadn't done anything tip-worthy, while noting that ok, so there's also no way to NOT give a tip? Or any way to leave a comment, like "You guys need to work on your customer service or we won't be back"?  Interesting.

I hit <print receipt> for a printout, right out of the little TV thing, and we were on our way.

On the  way out, we finally noticed that, yep, most of the tables of diners were all totally enjoying their meals with their family and friends, but instead of being focused on each other, they were all totally engrossed in these stupid little screens on the tables.  There were kids playing games on them.  There were groups of girls snapping selfies and posting them to Facebook or wherever.  There were old people trying to figure out how the hell to get more water.  I half expected to see people tuning in to their favorite TV shows or for commercials to start flashing across the screens.

this just screams "relaxing with family", doesn't it?

Just.  Wow.

Let's review, shall we?

Now, when you go out to dinner, where you used to be expected to, I don't know, actually interact face to face with your dinner companions, you can now spend the ENTIRE time fiddling around with learning how to use and/or play with another whole new device, just like the ones you should have left in your car and/or at home before you left to go OUT to dinner, while ALSO very minimally interacting with anyone in the service end of the restaurant.

So, basically, dining out is now almost exactly like dining at home, except you don't have to cook or get your own plate, although I half-expected to see those bins on the way out like at a food court, where you dump your trash and leave your tray.

On the way home, I got out my own tiny link to the whole world phone and googled this new technology, only to find that it's been in place for a couple of years now, at a lot of restaurants.  I also read the many many many complaints, exactly like mine...

Shane and I made a secret pack and pinkie swore to never go out for a "nice" dinner again at ANY restaurant that wants you to order your food through a touch screen at the table.  I can see it being handy to pay at the table, in case you're the type who is afraid the waitress is taking your credit card in the back and snapping photos of it to secretly charge you for her next trip to Mexico or whatever, but...trying to force diners to figure out more screens so we can "call server" or for "more water"??  Seriously?

Like I said, I'm a huge fan of technology, but guys. Huge, double thumbs way way down for this one.

...and yes, I have been living under a rock.

byeeee

Photos on this post all courtesy of Google images. 

So--What's Next?

I know, I know.  I haven't posted for a minute.  I've been missing writing, but also feeling like maybe I've already said All The Things, but then I've also been having a sudden urge to ramble/journal for no apparent reason.  So I thought I'd pop back in and see if anyone's still out there.

You still here??

Having basically broken up with the internet and FB in October 2015, it's been lovely and quiet and fun and REAL around here, ever since.  Here are a few updates, because I KNOW you've been wondering:

1--We finished our garden fence last year, after just a shade under a decade of working on it...high fives all around.  Now the deer can only stand on the outside and wish.

2--We started traveling again...omg YES.  Just, so much yes.  That sentence will eventually morph into some thoughts on snow-bird lifestyles and not living in Idaho in the winter when we're old.

3--Our oldest is getting married, omg, yes, married.  In like three weeks.  So that cookbook project has taken on a whole new meaning and urgency.

4--Our youngest is graduating in June and already looking for her own apartment, because "omg mahm I can't WAIT to be on my own," which is kind of music to my ears, because (sorry) I am super against people being a crutch for their kids and talking babytalk to them when they're 19 years old and being all "ohhhnooomywittlebaaaayybeee...mommy doesn't want her little babyboo to leave her!"  What the heck is that?  Stop it.  Let them get their life started already.  Make their own budget.  Make their own mistakes.  Make their own dinner.  All of it.

Maybe that's what this post is warming up to be...a rant about parents who refuse to let go.  I tell people that our youngest is excited to get out on her own this summer, and I get this look:

"She's moving OUT?  RIGHT AFTER GRADUATION??"

And they're like, "Oh my gosh.  So soon?  Isn't that kind of young? Aren't you so sad? Won't you miss all this?"  And I'm all, "Not really.  We loved it all, but they're grown up now.  Shane and I are actually really FINE with the idea of having the house to ourselves.  We might even hang out semi-naked in the living room, drinking vodka and playing strip poker."  Wait-- of course I don't say that out LOUD, but you get the idea.  We're ready to be on OUR own, too.  We started as a couple of kids in love with each other.  We got married.  We spent about 9 and a half years hanging out doing all kinds of dumb stuff together, and then we decided, hey, this has been fun, but--why not have kids too, so we took a side trip to do that, and spent the next 20 years spending all of our time, energy, and every extra dime we ever could make or dream of making, on them and their needs.

Now it's our turn again.  We can go back to being those two crazy-in-love people doing dumb stuff together and finishing each other's sentences and thinking that hanging out in bed together on a Sunday morning is just fine with us.  We might even start spending our money on things we want to do again.

So, I'm sorry if this is you, but I'll never understand the people who are ooey gooey about having their grown kids move out of the house.  They are grown ups...let them go, and enjoy what's next.


*exhales*

It's good to be back, guys.

Staring at the Ceiling

That's what I'm doing today.

Somewhere in our packing/loading/unloading for camp over Memorial Day (see camping posts here and here and here), I felt like I *might have* strained my back.  Until three days ago, I was still gardening and planting the vegetables, and thinking damn, my back is kind of sore.  Two days ago I took the time to look down at my belly button, which somehow was aligned more with my foot than my chin, which means my usual low back slippage has occurred.

Usually my x-rays look like this, only worse...(image from google--not my actual back)

I tried the hot tub.  I almost moved into the hot tub, I was out there so much, but it didn't help, other than feeling great because water.  I tried Motrin, but even at 800 mg, it didn't help either.  I tried different positions, but nothing relieved it.

By yesterday morning I was in close to the most severe discomfort (barring childbirth) that I've ever been in, so I called my chiropractor.  He is, of course, out of town, so I went to the doctor filling in for him, who is this awesome semi-retired chiropractor who you'd wish was your dad or at least your father-in-law, and I always end up visiting with him forever about gardens and real life stuff.  I love him.  Unfortunately I can't switch doctors, because of the loyalty code with physicians, which means that if they steal take a patient from each other, they are branded with a red letter T on their forehead and forced to walk barefoot through -- no, wait...  Anyway, he wouldn't let me switch.

So, I got out of the hot tub long enough to drive in yesterday, and he did some painful  helpful testing, and told me that yes, my low back is in its usual S-configuration, shifted over to the right, so I look like a grumpy sidewinder.  But the aching down my leg is also pointing to a pinched femoral nerve, so that's new.

Yay, new areas to hurt

I love when people cheerfully try to help, and they're all,"Just think of something else to take your mind off the pain".  When there's this much discomfort, there ISN'T ANYTHING ELSE. *scowls*  You know what would help me forget the pain? Slapping that chipper helpful smile off your face.

Ok, that was uncalled for, but damn.  If you aren't in pain, you can at least be quiet.  And I don't want to hear how "more sit-ups" would help, either.  Just-- be quiet.

Long story short, he adjusted my back and did some pressure point stuff and used an ultrasonic heat thing that I wanted to sneak in after hours and steal from him, and told me "Try to stand or lie down as much as possible.  No lifting, bending, or sitting."  Which is pretty much what I do all day--sit, lift, bend.  So I spent yesterday and today, pretty much lying on my back on the couch watching The White Queen (on Starz.com) episodes and trying to finish a cup of coffee without having to reheat it 50,000 times.  I'm still really sore, but it's bearable, so I guess I should get up and pretend to do some laundry...

It's kind of amazing how boring it can get, when you *have* to lie around, rather than when you are just being all couch potato-y for a day.  I'm typing this while lying down, and it turns out, it's not as easy as it sounds...

At least I'm not missing anything in the garden, because it's cold and rainy out, which it always is in June.  What the heck.  WHY do we live where summer is just July and August??? 

meh

Sorry to ramble, this isn't even that interesting...but it gave me something to do, so thanks for listening.

Our Newest Get-Rich Quick Idea

Shane loves candle light and lanterns, so last night he lit our little propane Coleman camp lamp, because we just got a new base for it, so it won't tip over and burn down the ...tent...when we're camping, or possibly start a forest fire and/or leave broken glass everywhere for me to clean up, because that is SO not relaxing.

Anyway--he turned on the lamp and was trying to put it next to my chair.

Our conversation went like this:

Me:  Turn that off, it's too noisy, and it reminds me of my childhood.  All we HAD was a stupid gas light in the whole downstairs.  Turn it off.

Him:  No, it's awesome.  Turn out the other lights, and we can sit around it...

Me:  No.  I'm trying to cross stitch and I can't see, plus the noise is driving me crazy.  Take it somewhere else.

Him:  Come on...  See?  *turns on Crosby, Stills and Nash from my 70's Spotify playlist and sits by the glow of the Coleman lamp*  We ARE hippies now.

Me:  Ummm.

Him:  Well, or we're...working hippies.  Because we work.  A lot.

Me:  Uh, yeah, that wouldn't fly.  We're like...workaholic hippies.

both laughing our heads off

Him:  Yeah.  We should write a book.  Everyone would buy it because they'd be like what is THIS? I need to read it.

Me:  The Workaholic Hippie.  That could totally be a book.  We're gonna be so rich.


That's how our evenings usually go.

And, I suppose if we write it and get rich, we'll have defeated the purpose, because aren't hippies supposed to be ...not rich?

Food for thought, anyway.  Peace out, man.

My Gluten-Free (ish) Life. Sort of.

If you've read my prior posts about diet and exercise (or lack and distaste thereof), you know I started taking a thyroid med last fall, which hasn't made any difference that I can tell, other than...I take a pill every morning.

ummm...?

To make a long story slightly shorter and less mind-numbingly boring, I will update to say that the only thing that has worked for me, in terms of losing any weight (and I have lost 9 of 30 needed pounds so far, which is good, but it comes back immediately if I let up) is this:

Cut out gluten.  Cut out all processed carbs.  Cut out all carbs in general, except vegetables, but not eating much of potatoes or corn.  Cut out alcohol (umm...kind of).  Cut out sugar (except my sour patch because no). Cut out ---

Ok nevermind.

Basically what I CAN have is:  Fruit.  Vegetables.  Meat.  And of those, I have to weigh my portions and limit myself to 1200 calories a day.  THEN I lose weight.  Slowly.

Very cool.  VERY EFFING COOL.   Thanks, body.

What I have noticed, after cutting out gluten and as many sneaky ingredients that contain gluten as possible, is that if I *do* have something with gluten in it, the next day I have a headache and I feel like a useless hangover rolled up in a foggy influenza-like coma.  I've never had an alcohol hangover, but now I can say I get gluten hangovers I guess.  I literally can waste the whole day curled up on the couch reading, or alternately painting my nails and scrolling through Instagram, and then it's like (glances at clock) 2:52 p.m., and I realize "Hey, I should do something today besides nothing.  Or maybe I could just take a nap."

seems legit

Today I feel a little bit that way again.  I did manage to get rid of the headache earlier with some Motrin, but it is 2:52 p.m., and here I am, writing a blog post.  OK, I totally did do some laundry earlier, and I may or may not have painted my nails several times, which matters to a strangely large number of Instagram followers...But I have all these other things I'm supposed to be doing, like planting the garden, or hiking Nepal or solving world peace and stuff, and so far none of THAT is getting done.

*sigh*

But at least my NAILS look great.

My accomplishment for today.  Oh, and I totally solved world hunger.

Well, there's still time to plant today...it's supposed to rain tomorrow and Saturday so that gives me an excuse to REALLY hang out inside and play with nail polish and cross stitch, so I suppose I should go out and try and accomplish something today besides not napping.  (Yay, I didn't fall asleep? Is that a thing?)

Thanks for listening.  Love to hear how any of you have overcome the weird disconnected hungover feeling that fogs up a lot of my days lately...