The Very Definition of Hell...

Matthew 13:42: "And shall cast them into a furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth."

And I’m referring to…

Car shopping during the great heat wave of 2011.

Okay, let’s say used car shopping.

The story is thus:

While her father and I were out running amok on the high seas, Anna was here in Georgia babysitting her pets. Before we left, though, we had budgeted some cash with which to replace her car, the fabulous and much celebrated, Little Red, who was becoming a hazard through no fault of its own (insert grumbling and mumbling about idiots who think they’re mechanics).

The plan was to have her look for cars of interest while here, and upon our return she and I would spend some time checking them out. If we found nothing here, I would begrudgingly drive her back to Missouri where we would continue our search.

We drove all over Northwest Georgia and the experience was, well, rather frightening. The big dealers had nothing in our price range, and the used car dealers were seedy little enterprises stocked with cars which very clearly appeared to either be stolen or repossessed. (Baby seats and other personal items still inside). Oh, there was the cute little yellow VW Beetle with a smiley face painted on the side, but they never returned our phone call.

Sooo, off to Missouri we go. Ten hours later, at 5 pm, the thermometer on my car is reading 105 degrees!

The shopping began in earnest the next day. Let me just point out for the record that every car lot in central Missouri is a vast desert of hot, steamy concrete. The whole time I was there the temperature never dipped below 103 degrees.

Okay, so the adventure begins with a cute little red Chevy 5-speed and a nice salesboy, obviously smitten with my daughter, who tries to give her a lesson on the intricacies of getting and maintaining a good credit rating. All the while I can feel my brain starting to sizzle and I’m thinking, “Dude, I just told you we’re paying cash…you’re cute, but cut the crap.” The entire day, and the next, we drove various sauna-like vehicles, all of which were slightly out of our price range. Dehydration and desperation were in the air.

Then, oh then, we found it! A sweet little Toyota Camry, clean as a whistle and perfectly priced. The dealer, a very grandfatherly type, got the AC going for us and hydrated us while the car was prepped for the big test drive. We drove it down the business loop, then hopped on the interstate to check out how it accelerates and handles at higher speeds. It was sweet! We were smiling and happy and high-fiving each other…then, just after we exited and were heading back to the dealership…

IT. QUIT.

I called the dealership…they were on their way. Then…

IT. STARTED. SMOKING. 

The dealer, his partner, and a mechanic arrived. Then…

IT. CAUGHT. FIRE! 

Then the mechanic risked life and limb by yanking out the washer fluid container and dousing the flames.

There was a big scorch mark on the hood.

They apologized all over themselves. 

We forgave them.

Then we took a break.

Now, being the hearty souls we are, and on a whim (and frankly, we were now just a little gun shy when it came to used car lots), we decided to cruise the local Chevy dealer lot. Of course, you absolutely never cruise a car lot and not have a salesperson magically materialize at your window. Actually, he thought he just might have what we’re looking for. We went inside, he brought us water, the other salesboy there flirted with Anna, we told them story of the flaming Camry, and, being properly mortified, they brought us more water. 

Dead end…the perfect car had just been sold.

Okay, now we’re four days into it, it’s Saturday, July 30^th and I absolutely have to get back to Georgia, because my Missouri plates are about to expire. On a tip from my mother we drive 30 miles to visit her dealer, who assures her that he has plenty of things in my price range, only to be shown a $12,000 vehicle, and then be told, “No, we have nothing in your price range”. My head is going to explode.

On the way back the conversation turned to VW’s, and I told Anna to get on the I-phone and find a dealer. She says, “Head Motor Company has a Jetta for $3,950”. I said, “Let’s go.” We surprised the salesman by specifically requesting that car, because they had just put it out on the lot that morning. We drove it, we inspected it, I talked him down to $3,500, we bought it.

By the way…

It’s red.

Okay, so here's what I want you to do....

Trust me!

Go get a 3-4 lb. pork butt
1 small can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
(yes, your grocery store does have it...it's in the Hispanic food section in a quiet, unassuming little can)
Half an onion
Brown Sugar
Penzey's Arizona Dreaming spice blend
(If you don't have Penzey's that makes me very sad, but you can fake it w/ some ground chili pepper, onion and garlic powder, lemon peel, paprika, and cocoa)

Plop that roast into your crockpot, dump the can of peppers on top and around the sides, slice up the onion and toss that in there, then sprinkle the top with brown sugar and the spice blend. Let it cook on low all day.

Now, take the roast out, let it cool a bit, then grab a couple of forks and shred that puppy up.
Put that in a deep-sided skillet, sprinkle the top w/ more brown sugar, add about 1/2 cup of the liquid from the crockpot and some of the sliced onion, and, this is important, so listen up...
DO NOT ADD MORE THAN ONE OF THOSE PEPPERS TO THE SHREDDED MEAT...OR YOU WILL DIE.

So, here's where it gets kinky...
take a whole fresh peach, peel it, then dice it up and toss that in the pan with everything else.
(It helps if it's a Georgia peach which you have just purchased straight from the farmer's truck, but we can't all be that lucky)

Put the lid on the pan and let it simmer for awhile.
Then remove the lid and let the liquid boil off.

Serve w/ flour tortillas, fresh tomatoes, homemade pico de gallo, sour cream, cheese, and your favorite sides (we like black beans and Santa Fe rice).

You're welcome!
Love ya madly!

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes

“I took off for a weekend last month, just to try and recall the whole year...”

Well, actually, it was a week.

And while we’re making confessions…it wasn’t just me.

And it’s quite possible that “recalling” the whole year was not exactly part of the game plan.

However, there were 8 of us who really, really needed a change in attitude.

The whole motley crew consisted of my husband, his mother, brother, two sisters and their spouses (minus one). Incidentally, all of whom I love and respect as dearly as my own flesh and blood. 

(And we all know how I feel about them.)

 

No, I am not trying to hide...when random strangers take your photo you never know what you're going to get.

On a muggy Saturday afternoon we converged on New Orleans at amazingly close to the same time, considering that we were all coming from different parts of the country. We spent that afternoon, evening and part of the next morning exploring Bourbon Street and the French Quarter.

Huge Ass Beers!

On Sunday we boarded one very big-assed ship docked on the Mississippi River (no, not that one....a much, much, much bigger one) and cruised around the Caribbean for seven days with stops in Costa Maya, Hondura’s Roatan Island, Belize and Cozumel. There were plenty of sunburns, and a great deal of alcohol was consumed (both sanctioned and, ahem, contraband).

In short, a great time was had by all.

Although, there were those innocent bystanders who probably thought we had a little too much fun.

But their opinions matter not.

On day one, before we even set sail, my brother-in-law discovered the Bier Garten (good boy), and it soon became apparent that this is where most of our on-board time would be spent. The advantages of the Bier Garten were many:

1. Beer and various other intriguing alcoholic concoctions
2. Food
3. No crowds
4. Top Deck (open)
5. Overlooking the pool
6. Music (some good; some quite, quite bad)
7. Close proximity to the potty
8. Awning for shade or shelter as required
9. Awesome wait staff (Irma and Antonio rocked, but we had to “fire” Gilly a few times for lack of communication)
10. Perfect location for heckling the track runners

We quickly staked out our corner of the Bier Garten, rearranging lounge chairs around a few tables, and warning anyone who came to occupy the chairs closest to us that they did so at their own risk. Most of those people were cool, and we enjoyed their company. Others were, shall we say, not. They usually didn’t come back, either.  Interestingly, that spot was always available for us whenever we decided to congregate there (which was often).

Anyway…here are a few snippets and observations (not all of which are my own) acquired during the trip:

The insanity of Bourbon Street is contagious.

Check out my sister-in-law trying to disassociate herself from her own mother and brother! Tsk, tsk!







Musicians south of the border define “harmony” differently than the rest of us.

Somewhere in the world Neil Diamond’s ears are bleeding.

Before you dip it into your amaretto sour, it’s always wise to make sure the pineapple on that skewer the waitress just handed you is not, in fact, cleverly disguised cheese.

For sanity’s sake, one must make peace with the fact that one will, quite simply, spend an entire week with bad hair.

Morning showers are pointless.

Hats are your friend.

Napkins are versatile tools.

Creative hair design is an art form.

So is chair dancing.

There are great number of people in the world who are expertly skilled in working a buffet.

There are in-laws and then there are outlaws (a moniker I proudly share with one of my most favorite people in the entire world.)

Outlaws and damn proud of it!

Sometimes fate hands you an elevator filled with exactly the right group of personalities to make it one of the funniest experiences of your life.

The water the wait staff just spritzed on you under the guise of cooling you off is really disinfectant.

You will only get towel animals from your steward if you don’t immediately gain the reputation as a rebel and malcontent.

Doggy

Elephant

No one knows for sure


















If you decide to reveal to the entire group that your husband’s Sean Connery impression always makes you laugh, then you must be prepared for everyone else's Sean Connery impression.
IT. IS. ALWAYS. FUNNY.

Wise men ALWAYS give their wives of 27 years a heads-up BEFORE announcing to a large group of snorkelers, which include children unschooled in snorkeling etiquette, that he and said wife have just spotted a manatee, lest said wife be swamped by those 30 other snorkelers (insert Lisa Look).

The most commonly heard Jimmy Buffett song, both on the ship and off, was “Cheeseburger in Paradise”…HUH?

It is possible, with the proper application of ice, to make those 4 drinks ordered for you at 10 am last the entire day.

Careful drink planning can turn a 7 day cruise into a 14 day cruise.

 “The rum made me do it, mon!”

We met some wonderful people…

Newlyweds Larry and Angela from Arkansas (along w/ their beautiful 16 year old daughter, Demi), the three of whom graced us with the most lovely smiles, and who were brave enough to participate in the pub crawl not just once, but twice. (Not to worry, Demi found better things to do w/ her time.)

Angela, Larry, and Larry
(all from Arkansas)
















Newlywed teachers Matt and Heather from Wisconsin with whom Bruce and I shared a bucket of beer, some rum punch, and chair dancing. By the way, Heather is also a shuffleboard shark.

And we must not forget Trisha and her clan from Texas…our Bier Garten buddies.

This trip was just what the doctor ordered.

Thank you, Dr. Grace!

“With these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same.

Through all of our running and all of our cunning,

If we couldn’t laugh we just would go insane.

If we weren’t all crazy we would go insane!”

The fun stuff always happens...

when I'm not around (pout)!

On Saturday I ran into town (I love saying that) to order appliances. I already knew what I wanted so I thought it would be, as Anna and her dad used to say, "a piece of cheese."

Well, not so much.

I ended up having to order completely different stuff...oh well...no big deal.

While I was there Mr. B called to tell me I needed a new kitchen sink and should pick one up on the way home.

Okey, dokey.

As I was leaving the store Mr. B called to tell that he and Dolly had a visitor.

A very cute visitor.

At least he took pictures.

Check out the size of those ears!

If I had been here, I would have offered snacks.

Kudzu and other adventures...

Okay, so I've officially been in Georgia two weeks.

I've learned a lot in two weeks.
 
Several years ago there was a company whose slogan was "Covering the South like Kudzu".
I actually did a search and could not find the name of that company, but their thinking was right on track.

Kudzu (pronounced kood-zoo) bothers the hell out of me.
Mr. B likes to refer to it as Krud-zoo.
I wondered aloud to him a few days ago if the person responsible for bringing it to the South was sent to New Jersey and told never to return.
(Interestingly, there was a Yahoo News article about kudzu in New Jersey...hmmm)


This is kudzu....

It was brought here from Japan by some well-meaning botanist to help w/ erosion....
which it did....
but....
it grows from 4 to 12 inches PER DAY...
seriously.
It takes over absolutely everything...
fences, yards, power lines, houses...
see that dark woody piece hanging from the tree in the center of the picture?
Kudzu vine...

It's bigger around than my arm.

Then there's this...

Those logs stuck in the fence?
you guessed it...
I intentionally left the fencepost in the pic for size reference.
If you were to inspect the fence, you would note that the vine itself has completely engulfed the wire in places.
This is crazy stuff, y'all!
(Apparently, though, it does have nutritional/medical value...although, I won't be serving it up any time soon.)

I've also learned that there are some ridiculously outrageous insects here....

This guy is no longer amongst the living, but he startles me every time I walk out onto the front porch.
He is approximately 2 inches long.
Then there's this little cutie....

Yes, that's a spider...
a VERY BIG spider...
(at LEAST6 inches, toe to toe)
I have no idea what kind of spider...
but he can haul some hiney when necessary.

There are a multitude of insects that refused to pose for pictures, the likes of which I've never seen....
and, let's be honest here....
I've lived in a lot of places...
just saying.

The dirt here is red.
And my lovely white and black dog?
Has taken on a decidedly reddish cast on her head, chest and front legs.

I've also learned that my 61 year old husband is still able to vault fences....
I'm not sure he even knew he was capable of this until he dug up a bees' nest...
Boy, were they po'd!
The good news he was only stung 5 times...
I'm not sure he'd call that good news.
(He sacrificed a shoe, a shovel, and a wheelbarrow to the bees....
for the time being anyway)

It's okay if the color you picked out for your kitchen cabinets is totally grody...
you can always change it.
(even if it means that you'll be waaaayyyy behind on your project goals.)

Did you know that dogs can pick blackberries?
Well, I didn't either,
Who knew that I'd have to fight the dog for ripe fruit?

Oh yeah,
shopping carts are called buggies...
and if you can't find something, it's around here, "summers"
(somewheres).

The guys and gals at Home Depot and Lowes are the nicest people on the planet and
my  best friends.

I've also learned that one very large, outdated, satellite dish can be re-purposed for something useful and lovely...

Stay tuned for more adventures....

Love ya madly!

A Contribution from Mr. B....

Editors note:  A few weeks ago I delivered unto my husband (Mr. B) Sassy and Sammy. Sassy, it seems, is delighted with her new digs...she has approximately 1 1/2 fenced acres to patrol, and she takes her job very seriously.  Sammy, on the other hand, is thinking that my trip to the grocery store is taking an awfully long time. The following, from an email sent to me by Mr. B,  is what I'm sure is to be the first of many adventures for the pupcake:

It was a soft furry brown motion moving along the fence that I first noticed.  When it saw me it made for the fence to get away.  It made it thru the fence to come face to face with a pup.

Sassy started barking and they exchanged greetings.  As they danced across the back yard loudly proclaiming their admiration for each other, I could only watch. 

They had different ways of dealing with the other's attraction.  Sassy gave it her hind end to chew on (nothing but lots of hair there), the other tried to kiss her back with clicking added in for show. 

Well the brown furry visitor made it back thru the fence at the chicken house.

Haven't seen it since. 

But you will have to ask Sassy about her first dance with a woodchuck.

(photo from sodahead.com)

Puppy Love

This gorgeous young man arrived at my house early Friday morning perched atop bags of mortar in the back of a red and white pickup driven by his dad, Scott, and accompanied by James.

I was immediately intrigued.

Then I met him.

And I was immediately smitten.
His name is Chief. 
This creature made me willing to rescind my "No More Pets" rule. 
Not only is this boy beautiful,
but he is a total mush...
a lover boy to the extreme...
and the most well behaved dog EVER!

When I wasn't bestowing him with ear scritches and back rubs,
he liked to hang out here...

I discussed with him how much he would love Georgia.
I told him that Sassy would be a wonderful playmate.
I explained that the kitties would be a non-issue.
I even pledged my undying love and affection. 

He didn't go for it...

You see, it turns out that this boy lives in doggie Utopia.
He has a loving family.
He lives on 1,000 acres with 3 other German Shepherds, a Lab mix, and 50 chickens.
He gets to go to work with his dad every day.
Total strangers shower him with love and praise everywhere he goes.
Why the heck would he give all that up for me?
What pup in his right mind would?

Still, Chief, if things don't work out for you...
you know where to find me...
'kay?

I need to add, and this is by no means a side-note...
Scott and James did a great job on my stairs.
They were a couple of really nice guys, too.
And, the farm fresh, organic, free range eggs were a huge bonus.
This is why it's always better to deal with real people.

If anyone out there needs a good mason...give me a shout.

Plus, I promise...Chief is the icing on the cake.