Grocery Drama

On a recent visit to my parent’s home, I was running a few errands solo when I decided to stop by a discount grocery store for a few items. I was unfamiliar with this area of town and realized when I stepped into the grocery that it might not have been the best place to go alone. Undeterred, I started down the first aisle looking for spiral pasta. Two women walked into the store behind me, and one started to narrate rather loudly her shopping trip.

“Ooooh yeah, baby! I’m gonna get me some pork rinds, yeah and I’m gonna eat some pork rinds tonight, Uh-huh!!”

I did my best not to turn around and stare, and kept working through my short list while listening to the narration that continued behind me. The store is set up in a fashion that you can see across the aisles, giving everyone in the store a view of this annoyingly loud customer. As I turned the corner and started down the second aisle, I chanced a quick glance into the first aisle to get a look at this obnoxious woman who seemed determined we all know her opinions of each item in the store. No sooner had I turned my eyes back to my list when I heard a very loud, “I SAW YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE I WAS ALL GHETTO!”

I’m sure my eyes got as wide as dinner plates and it took everything within me to keep my laughter from exploding like a geyser. I saw a customer next to me look at me with disdain. I’m not one to usually pick a fight in the grocery store, or anywhere for that matter. In my half-second glance I had surmised that the loud narrating woman was about twice my size, but I figured I could outrun her. However, since I really needed the items on my list so I could make a salad for a party the next day, I decided to ignore the comment, keep my eyes forward, and find those yellow and red peppers as fast as I could.

Some people seek attention in the most unusual ways.

Million dollar moment #19

It’s true, we ate dandelions

My post last week apparently started a dandelion obsession. Not to mention how yellow the yard is since we’ve had all this rain. The dandelions are tall enough that the kids have been picking long-stemmed dandelion bouquets. Now, long-stem dandelion bouquets are quite special and deserve the fine, tall vase treatment. Yes, sir!

As I started thinking about dandelions, this odd, pervasive weed of the north, I was surprised how many memories I have surrounding dandelions. In addition to the dandelion picking for wine making, one of my earliest memories is of dandelions. My brother and I were playing in the back yard while my mom did yardwork or hung the laundry (with the underwear discreetly hidden on the inner rows of the clothes line). My brother must have been around a year old, which meant I was the quite-capable mother/sister of 4 1/2 years old. I saved my baby brother from certain death as he was just about to eat a handful of dandelions he picked for a treat. I snatched them from his chubby little hand (and he was a chubby baby!) and informed him that dandelions are for cows, and that he was not, last time I checked, despite his baby chub, a cow. I then smartly informed my mother of my good deed, expecting my due praise.  And yes, I now have a 5-year-old version of myself living under my roof.

*******

I remember being embarassed of our yard growing up because while the neighbors treated their lawns with chemicals to make them thick and green, our yard always remained a quite organically spotted yellow. I asked my Dad why we didn’t treat our yard too so that the dandelions wouldn’t pepper our yard making us look like red-necks (in my mind). He informed me that 1. with the open lot across the street that was filled with dandelions, weed treatment would be almost pointless and 2. that my great-grandfather needed the dandelions for his dandelion wine. And then he sent me with a bucket into the yard to de-dandelion the yard. Why pay for lawn service when you have kids to pick the weeds out for you? I stopped bringing the subject up. And now that they have no kids at home, they have a very green, organically treated yard.

******

I graduated with 25 classmates from a small Christian school. We always felt like a weed amongst flowers, I guess. I think this feeling was mostly perpetuated by our lack of athleticism. Athletics brings money. It doesn’t matter how big or small your school is. Athletes get the attention for the school. Our class wasn’t overly athletic. A few of us played volleyball, a few played basketball, and we had one cheerleader. We were sandwiched between two very athletic classes. We, however, tended to be more artsy. When it came time for the school musicals, 99% of my class was involved in some form. We had the highest rate of participation every year. And some of my classmates could sing, oh could they sing! I hope they still sing, even if it’s only in the shower. I envied their voices. Oh, and we were really good at talking. Teachers used to make seating charts for us, right up until we graduated. The charts, carefully planned to separate friends to decrease talking in class, never worked. It didn’t matter who we were sitting next to, we ALL talked. Naturally, a number of us participated in (and won) numerous speech competitions throughout the years. From musical instruments, singing, drawing, painting, speaking…we were an incredibly talented group of young people. But we still felt like weeds for some reason. So when it came time to vote on a class flower, we nearly unanimously voted on the dandelion. We were dandelions in fields of flowers. The school balked. We said it was our class, and we voted dandelion. They insisted it could not be our flower, because the class flower gets pinned on our graduation gowns, and the dandelion is not a flower. We still didn’t see the problem. They did, however, and provided us with little daisies instead.

*****

Last week, while the yard was fresh with yellow, Nana sent the kids out to pick some for dinner. She washed the blooms, made a simple batter out of bisquick and water, dipped the blooms in the batter and fried them. And we ate them for dinner. The kids loooooved them. They tasted like fried pancakes with a hint of….fresh yellow.

And to think, I deprived my little brother of such a delicacy!

Weekend of Festivals and Foxes

You just never know what you’ll find in small town America. Our country is dotted with small towns, yet all the attention goes to the glamorous (or not so) big cities. We’ve lived in both. I kind of like the small town, as long as I’m within 5 minutes from a grocery store, and a Taco Bell.

This past weekend we attended one of the great small town festivals – Vermontville’s Maple Syrup Festival, which is celebrating its 70th anniversary. According to the all-knowing Wikipedia, the idea for a Maple Syrup Festival was discussed in 1940 in the local barbershop, the locale for all great small town ideas. If you don’t believe me, watch some Andy Griffith. According to the 2000 census, Vermontville’s population was just under 800. It is the epitome of Small Town, U.S.A. with a quaint little library, the requisite few churches and a tree-lined downtown street. The Syrup Festival started as a way to promote the town’s local maple syrup producers, and it has turned into a weekend full of carnival rides, games, parades, craft shows, and of course – all things maple. I’m convinced that all 800 residents show up, along with many more from surrounding towns.

Take your pick of all-you-can-eat pancake breakfasts, naturally. We sat in the bays of the local firehouse and doused our pancakes with all the syrup our sweet tooth could handle. If that’s not enough maple for you, walk down the street and get some maple flavored cotton candy, or maple cream, or maple candy that is so sweet you can’t eat a whole piece in one sitting. And if you don’t get your fix at the festival, here’s a page full of recipes that you can use with the jugs of syrup you purchased. I personally am intrigued by the maple sauerkraut.

We sat in the grand stands for the parade which consisted mostly of politicians shaking hands and tossing candy in hopes of gaining votes this fall, local residents showing off their sports car of choice, the jr high and sr high bands, and tractors. Lots and lots of tractors. I do think the tractors were my favorite part, especially the orchard tractor. It makes me want to have an orchard just so I can drive a pimped out, low-rider orchard tractor. While wearing a pink cowboy hat, of course. But the funniest part of the parade was when the emcee called one politician a “she” who was actually a “he.” His notes were a little inaccurate. It made the parade that much more entertaining!

However, the most memorable part of the day happened while eating our pile of pancakes. An older man walked in wearing a hat made out of an entire fox’s skin – head, 4 legs, body and tail. The kids sat and stared at him wide-eyed. He caught their eye and told them they could pet his hat, which Little Miss did. As we were headed out, my path took me past his chair and he looked up at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, “My hat is named after you – Foxy!!” I laughed about that all day long. I  asked him the story of his hat, and he was more than happy to tell. I mean, really, you wear a hat like that because you want to draw attention to yourself . He said he makes walking sticks and a few years back a man wanted a stick but didn’t have any money, so he traded the man a walking stick for the fox hide and a tooth from a grizzly bear (which he was wearing around his neck). The fox was an Alaskan red fox, and he found a place in Minnesota that turned it into a hat, which has to be the warmest hat ever. And now you know if you ever end up with a random fox hide, turn it into a hat and you’ve already got the best come-on line ever!

Are there any festivals that your family likes to frequent? Please share!

The porthole to heaven

I found a delicious little porthole into heaven today- a Tim Hortons/Coldstone combo. I was driving along Interstate 75 in Ohio in desperate need of lunch and caffeine, when I saw a sign for Tim Hortons. We don’t have Tim Hortons in our part of Michigan. Oh what good coffee they have. And doughnuts. And soup. And doughnuts. And sandwiches. And doughnuts.

Lo and behold, when I pulled up to the pearly gates, Coldstone was also present. Be still my heart. I actually didn’t get any ice cream with my lunch, but just the prospect that I could was sheer bliss. The signs boasted that for ONLY $.99 I could add a scoop of ice cream to my coffee order. Sugar coma? Yes, please! And the sandwich combo? I told them “wheat bread, please” quite intentionally so I could feel less guilty about saying “YES!” to the chocolate glazed cake doughnut instead of replacing it with an apple.

I’m so thankful that God blessed some people with brilliant business and marketing minds and genius ideas to combine such wonders as good coffee and doughnuts and ice cream all in one stop. I smiled all day long. Seriously. Granted, the joy may have been from the sugar/caffeine buzz from the coffee and doughnut, but I don’t really care. It kept me wide, wide, wide awake for the last 2 hours of my 5-hour solo drive.

There are 2 routes from our house to my parents house. We can go through Ft Wayne, Indiana which has less traffic, but no Hortons/Coldstone combo. Or we can to through Toledo/Findlay, Ohio which has more traffic, but DOES have the Hortons/Coldstone combo. Coffee, doughnuts and ice cream trump. Sorry, honey – we’re fighting traffic from now on just so we can pass through the porthole to heaven I found .2 miles off I-75 in Findlay, Ohio.

Here’s a link to all where you can find Tim Hortons/Coldstone combos

The business of handwriting

I’ve received two hand-written notes in the past week that surprised me. The first came from the tech at my new dentist’s office. She wrote about how nice it was to meet me and how great my smile was and that she hopes the building of our home continues to go smoothly. I also got a personal email from the dentist (a fellow Buckeye, yeah!). These little notes, as I am sure they were intended, solidified my decision to stick with this office. I have never, ever received a personal anything from any medical office prior to this. No thanks for my business or apology for being forced to wait three hours for my fifteen-minute appointment, and no checkup on how that new medicine is working. Nothing.

The second was a postcard I received from the salesman who sold me my new running shoes. He jotted a quick note to say it was nice to meet me and that he hoped my blisters were “no more” and wished me luck in my upcoming race. I’m sure I was hard to forget. I sat down and stuck my blistered feet in his face and said, “I need new shoes, PLEASE!!” He politely smiled (without even plugging his nose) and said in the finest British accent, “I know exactly what you need.” We chatted over insoles and sore shins, and of course, blisters. I signed up for their mailing list, but never expected a handwritten note. I’ll definitely be buying my next pair from them as well.

In a digital world where we can know so much about people, and yet so little of what really matters, I must say these hand written notes of appreciation for my time and my business are so…..personal. I think I might even hang them on the wall of my new home to remind me how nice it is to add that personal touch in all our business.

What about you? Have you received any hand written notes lately from unexpected places?

the year of chrysalis

This month marks one year since we moved back to Michigan after living in Florida for 6 years. It also marks one year that we’ve been living with my in-laws way out in the country. It’s been a year of waiting. A year of wondering. A year of wishing. A year of learning to be patient….for a house to sell, to recoup the cost of the move, to save up for a new house, and now for our new home to be built. If you had told me a year ago that I’d be here, out in the country, occupying 2 bedrooms of my in-laws’ house for over a year, I’d have cried, then most likely screamed the next time I took a shower. I’m definitely not the same person I was when we moved one year ago! I’ve had a couple people comment on how they could never do what we’ve done. I reply that I haven’t either. God has given me exactly what I’ve needed for each day.

I took the kids to our local botanical gardens this morning to see the yearly spring butterfly exhibit. I love to stand by the plexiglass box and stare at the rows of chrysalises and butterflies just emerging. As I stood in awe today of the miracle of metamorphosis, I couldn’t help but think that I’ve been living in a chrysalis the past year. Like a butterfly in its protective covering, we’ve been cocooned out in the country, 45-minutes from city-distraction, all our stuff in boxes -some of it also 45 minutes away in the city, no decent internet connection or cell phone signal, and hours upon hours of driving to wherever we need to go. Life has slowed down considerably from the fast-paced life in the big Florida city. This sheltered state has allowed for so much personal growth and the time to think. The highlights of my weeks have been running on dirt roads and tea parties with the great grandparents. And I’ve loved it. I’ve learned how to be patient, and to appreciate beauty in forms of pink painted sunsets, ice covered forests, and winds blowing through cornfields. My entertainment has been watching the kids fall in love with their great-grandparents over cookies and chocolate milk. It’s been a year of restorative peace. It’s been a year of growth. I’m ready to emerge more beautiful than the caterpillar I was before.

I didn’t intend to be an absentee blogger this past year. But it was necessary – not only out of unreliable internet, but also for my mind to just rest, and enjoy living without having to analyze each day for a story. I’m refreshed. I’m back.

Tweets for 2010-03-11

• @jengdahl oooh they kill my budget too! in reply to jengdahl #
• our new running blog is live. Read and laugh! haha! http://www.torunisfun.com #

Tweets for 2010-03-11

• @jengdahl oooh they kill my budget too! in reply to jengdahl #
• our new running blog is live. Read and laugh! haha! http://www.torunisfun.com #

Tweets for 2010-03-10

• the sun! the sun!! Oh how I have missed the sun! It's so beautiful!! #
• kids are playing on the back porch. Not sure who's happier. Them or me. #

Tweets for 2010-03-10

• the sun! the sun!! Oh how I have missed the sun! It's so beautiful!! #
• kids are playing on the back porch. Not sure who's happier. Them or me. #