ROADTRIP: PART II

The trip from North Carolina to Indiana was pretty much uneventful. On the last leg of the trip we did see an Amish family in their horse and carriage but MHS was driving so fast that I missed the shot with my camera. (He says that I missed it because I was too busy with my “crackberry” and wasn’t prepared in time to take the picture) The end result was a swooshy picture of half a horse. Don’t worry, I won’t subject you to my poor photography. (or at least my really poor photography)

The reason for our trip to Indiana besides visiting friends and family was the annual James Dean Festival. James Dean was from our home town. (My dad went to school with him. It’s funny to me that we all have this image of James Dean as a young, handsome, very cool hottie. In fact, if he were alive today, he would be a few years older than my father.) Every year the town has a festival to commemorate the death of our most famous resident. MHS has gone back for the event for years but this was the first time I have returned since moving to Florida almost 28 years ago. The festival has grown unbelievably. The town has a population of about 3000 but holds as many as 100,000 visitors during the festival. People come from as far away as Japan. James Dean is very big in Japan, I’m told. There is a car show that has 2000 antique car entries. A memorial motorcycle ride is held on Sunday from a town about an hour North of our little town that ends at the park where the car show is held. The event has gotten so big, it has spilled over to the next town.

We arrived at our friends’ house in the early Thursday evening. Our friend, The Biker Nazi, was all about getting the bike out of the truck and hitting the road right away. He and MHS have been friends for just about forever. He was the best man in our wedding. He married a friend and class-mate of mine whom I will call The Saint.

Allow me to give you a little history: Our friend became the Biker Nazi last summer when the four of us went on a bike trip out west. I would get aggravated with him because all he wanted to do was ride, ride, ride. He made fun of me because I packed too many clothes. He likes to tell EVERYONE how I packed boots, sneakers and three pair of sandals, three bags of clothes and a sundress for a bike trip. Call me crazy, I just like to be prepared for every occasion. I wanted to shop, sight-see (on foot) and relax a bit more. To be fair, he would have accommodated me if I had asked but then I wouldn’t be able to call him the Biker Nazi, now would I? And that would ruin our whole relationship. If the Biker Nazi knew how much I really adore him, it just wouldn’t be any fun at all. He’s married to my friend, the Saint. I refer to her as the Saint because she is married to the Biker Nazi (nuff said) AND she lives in a house full of boys. We only have girls at my house (besides MHS) and I don’t know if I could survive an all boy household. So, she’s a Saint in my eyes. The Biker Nazi doesn’t read this blog but if he did, I would be in really deep trouble now.

So, after changing into our riding clothes, jackets and helmets, we headed off to town to see the car show and get something to eat. Every trip back home requires consuming a few choice food items that aren’t available in Florida. We were able to satisfy one of these requirements the first night. After the car show, we stopped at a favorite hotdog stand. It’s one of those old fashioned drive-ins where you pull up and the car hop brings your food on a tray and hangs it on your car window. Being on bikes, we settled for a picnic table. We ordered the specialty: a Spanish hotdog. This rare delicacy, found only in the Midwest and maybe only in Indiana, is a hotdog on a bun covered in a meat sauce that isn’t chili and isn’t a sloppy joe but somewhere in between. It’s delicious and definitely not on my diet. The beverage of choice to enjoy with this culinary masterpiece is root beer served in a frosty glass mug.

Here's MHS, the Biker Nazi and The Saint waiting for our order.

We were joined by another couple who I will call Rainman (he does a great impression) and the Tiny Dancer. (To be explained later) We place our order and are surprised when it arrives that our root beers are being served in to go cups and not the afore-mentioned frosty mug. Appalled, we question the car-hop and are told that the place is closing at 9pm and they don’t want to do any more dishes. We were a little shocked that the closing time was so early on a night when a festival is being held in town. And even more shocked when as more and more customers pulled in, they were turned away. Can you imagine! In this economy, wouldn’t every business person with half a brain want to stay open for the duration. But someone had to get home to watch the 10 o’clock news apparently. As we sat, the lights were turned out, signs were put up in the window saying “CLOSED” and “NO PARKING ON PREMISES”. We couldn’t help ourselves, we just sat there and giggled at how unwelcome we were.

Stay tuned for Roadtrip: Part III where I talk about moonlight, moonshine and mooning!

THE ROADTRIP: PART I

Note: While on the road, I tried to post this but the pictures didn't load. I didn't have time to fix it then so I deleted and re-posted it today with some revisions. My apologies to all and thanks to Jan who pointed out to me that once it's posted, it stays in the reader even if you delete.

As usual, we got off to a rocky start. Sleep deprived and packed like sardines into MHS’s truck, we set off at 4:30am last Tuesday. The original plan to leave the night before was scrapped upon the realization that we wouldn’t be ready to leave until 11:30pm. JackASS and I had one of those lovely little marital spats so it was a VERY quiet ride. There’s something about a roadtrip that drives his stress levels through the roof and I have little to no tolerance for it. (I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he is solely responsible for loading and securing the bike into the truck, packing D1’s three truckloads of STUFF into one truck and dealing with all the STUFF I require on a lengthy trip. What’s the big deal, right? Easy for me to say…) We were back on speaking terms and holding hands like the lovebirds we are by the time we arrived at my dad’s at around 9:00am. We placed D1’s dog into Daisy’s capable hands, had some refreshments and set off again on our trek to North Carolina. MHS had to drive the entire trip because the truck was packed so full and in such a way that if we moved the driver’s seat up so that my short little legs would reach the pedals, the whole tower of boxes would fall and we would never get them back into place to put the seat back again. I was elated because that meant I was able to read blogs on my blackberry, (which is still working beautifully on day 12) twitter, receive your well wishing comments by email, read a book, and nap felt really bad for him.

Doesn't this look cozy?

We reached our friend’s home in Charlotte around 5pm. Note to self: Plan trips to Charlotte to avoid rush hour traffic. The place is booming with new construction, new homes, shopping centers, and office buildings but the roads have not kept up with the pace of the city’s growth.

It was great to see our friends, who we will call the Half-Backs. Half-Back, is you’re not familiar with the term is used for people who originally lived up north, migrated to Florida for better weather and realized Paradise isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and moved again, this time to North or South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, etc… which is…..half way back; hence Half-Backs. They have lived in NC about a year and a half and have a beautiful and very large home. Both travel extensively for business. I’m currently developing a plan with MHS that we could sell our home, move into theirs and as long as we’re careful and keep moving, they would never know we were there.

We weren’t the Half-Back’s only visitors, Mr. HB’s father and his girlfriend and were there visiting from Florida as well as their 20 year old son, Handsome. They also have a daughter who is D1’s age who lives with them. They grilled out and we had the most relaxing and wonderful time sitting outdoors in the cool evening, eating, drinking and catching up on the happenings in everyone’s lives. Then Cutie, their daughter, introduced me to Sweet Tea Vodka, apparently a South Carolina specialty. This caused a great deal of discussion about if it was tea flavored vodka or a mix of mostly tea with a little bit of vodka. I decided a taste test was in order. Cutie served me a large glass of the stuff and after one sip; I knew it was definitely sweet tea flavored vodka and NOT tea with a bit of vodka. However, I kept sipping and drank the whole glass. I think my knees wobbled a bit when I stood to leave. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take a picture of the bottle for reference this post.

This is Handsome enjoying some of his mom's specialty: ice cream pudding.

Unbeknownst to me, Cutie made a call to D1 to tell her that she was giving me the 12oz. “taste test”. D1 was concerned knowing I normally stick to beer or wine. My, how the tables have turned. Aren’t they cute to worry about us!

The hour was getting late and we still had to travel another hour north to MHS’s brother’s, Hammerhead, where D1 is staying. It’s so hard to leave good friends when you know you won’t see them for quite awhile and you’ve only had a few hours to catch up. Alas, we had to leave.

Everyone was asleep when we arrived at Hammerhead’s. The next morning, I awoke early to visit with D1 while she got ready for school. Of course, I’ve seen her get ready for school for years but this was the first time knowing she was a teacher and not a student. Hammerhead left for work and D1 and my niece, Fireball, left for school. Fireball is a student at the school where D1 teaches. MHS and I ventured further north for a business luncheon where midlife crises were the topic of the day. And I thought it was just me.

We finished lunch just in time to make it back to visit D1’s last class of the day. It was fun to observe her in her professional element. I’m sure every mother and father would feel this way but we were really quite impressed by her teaching skills and the way she was able to control the classroom. She gave a quiz on weather and climate and insisted that MHS and I take it too. You’ll be happy to know that I passed the 6^th grade social studies quiz with 100% but missed the bonus question. Oh, and MHS missed one but got the bonus question right, if you’re wondering. He will be so pleased when he finds out that I shared that with you.

This is D1's favorite student.

When the school day ended, we assisted D1 with her parent pick-up duties and then helped her redecorate her classroom. Fireball was at volleyball practice in the gymnasium. We were just kicking into high gear decorating and desk moving when a student came to the door announcing Fireball had been hurt during practice and D1’s presence was requested there. Moments later, upon our arrival in the gym, the coach told us, it didn’t look good and it was probably broken…..again. Fireball had this same injury last year during volleyball season and I’m told it happened the same way. Fireball is an amazing athlete but apparently a little slow in the “learning from your mistakes” department. Sorry, kiddo.

We got her home and resting comfortably. Once her dad was home, we left to take D1 out to dinner. We had a great time harassing the waiter in a way that only D1, (D2) and I can do. I think we embarrass MHS but he just smiles and remains silent. Did you know that in the state of North Carolina you can’t get a burger cooked anything less than medium-well? Some crazy law about wanting to protect the public from e coli. D1 winked at him and we got it Medium. It pays to have pretty daughters.

We left the next morning before Fireball had her doctor’s appointment. We found out later that it wasn't broken but ligament damage instead. She has been instructed to stay off it for a week and then be re-evaluated. We're all hoping and praying that she won't need surgery and will be able to play again before the season is over but that might just be wishful thinking.

Oh and they have this new, very cute puppy named Daisy. I wanted to put her in my suitcase.

Stay tuned for Roadtrip Part II.

ROADTRIP

MHS and I are hittin' the road. First stop Daddy's to rest a bit and drop off D1's dog. In the morning, we will leave for NC to see D1, friends and family. After that we will be moving on to our home town in Indiana for an annual festival that for us will be like a class reunion and family reunion all wrapped up into one. We are taking the bike and my camera with us so stay tuned. I predict some great blogging material on this trip. I will try to post as we go but I'm not sure what my internet options will be. Til we meet again……………..We are outtahere!

THE NANNY GOATS NEXT DOOR

Our next door neighbors, the West family, (our neighbors to the west) have goats. Nanny goats, all of them. We live in a rural community where the lots are larger than usual and keeping the lawn in good shape can sometimes be a real pain in the butt chore. I think the idea of owning a goat developed from a need to lessen that chore. So goat shopping the West family went. They fell for a lovely little white nanny goat they called Hillary and a darling black billy goat they called Barack. (Do you think they are Democrats?) I need to mention here that the Wests were assured that the proper measures were taken with Barack that little goats, kids would not be a possibility. Arrangements were made, supplies were purchased but alas, the owner decided they did not want to part with Barack after all. So, Hillary came to live with the Wests all by herself.

Hillary was treated like a queen and much attention was given to her by the West family and the Smart Mouth family who found Hillary to be a great source of entertainment. But even with the star treatment, Hillary was lonely. She missed Barack and her other friends. So the West family decided to get another goat. This time, they decided on two instead of one and brought home a mother and daughter team named Daisy and Brownie, respectively. Hillary was thrilled………for about 5 minutes. You see, Daisy and Brownie are the mean girls of the goat world. They butt Hillary with their horns, rise up on their back legs and punch at her with their front hooves. They just don't like her at all. (I think they might be Republicans.)

Days turn into weeks and while Hillary still isn't able to make friends with her new yard-mates, all are learning to live together and no one is getting hurt. One day, Mr. West mentions to me that he thinks Hillary might be pregnant. It turns out that maybe Barack wasn't as fixed as they were told he was and while they hadn't had her checked out yet by the vet, things were looking like a new kid might be in their future.

Just a few days later, MHS is outside doing some work in the yard when he hears Mrs. West yelling. He looks her way and she yells, "Hey Harley Stud, you know anything about birthing a goat!" Now MHS is my hero and I always think he can do just about anything but assisting in the birth of a goat……I don't know about that.

It seems that Mrs. West was preparing to take the children to visit their grandparents and had just finished showering. With her hair in a towel, she ran outside to feed the goats before blow drying her hair. Imagine her complete shock to see an extra pair of legs hanging out of the back-side of Hillary. Mr. W was at work. She tried to reach him by phone but he was unavailable. That is when she came back outside and called out to MHS.

He came into the house to change from his flip-flops to his sneakers because EVERYONE knows you can't be birthin' no goat in flip-flops. He announced the event to the girls and me and we in turn put our sneakers on too. By the time we reached the West home, Hillary had taken care of the job all by herself and produced the most adorable little kid you've ever seen. She was almost an exact duplicate of her mother. She could stand up all by herself and fall down too. Too cute. We oooed and awwwwed for quite awhile. Eventually we had to pull ourselves away to let Hillary and Donkey (the name given by the West's #2 son…who had recently seen a Shrek movie) their much needed rest.

We've really enjoyed watching Donkey as she grows. Daisy and Brownie seem to tolerate her a little better than they do Hillary but they are still bullies to both of them. I've never liked mean girls and the stunts they pull but I have to say that while Hillary and Donkey are my favorites, Daisy and Brownie have a special place in my heart too. I guess even a bully can't be all bad.

This is Hillary. It was hard to get them to stand still for a picture because when we come to the fence, they are always fighting for attention and moving all around for a better position.

These are the bullies, Daisy and Brownie. Brownie is the brown one if you are wondering. *wink* They are not posing. I had some greenery in my hand and they were going to make sure they got it and Hillary and Donkey didn't.

This is my favorite: Donkey. Aren't her little horns cute? OK, you twisted my arm; I'll share another of Donkey:

The little darling eats my weeds. Don't you just love her?

So Grateful Sunday

While I am always grateful for the blessings mentioned here that make my life complete, today I am counting the simple joys in my life that add a little kick and make it interesting. (At least to me)

1. Daddy. Today is his birthday.
   
2. The sound of football on my TV. I just love having it on while I work around the house even if I can't sit and watch.
   Of course, if the Seminoles are playing, I'm planted up front and center. Even when it's not so good….like last night. …Sigh
   
3. My new Blackberry Curve. Tried the Pearl, had trouble after 3 months, died after 5, replaced with refurbished Pearl and died again after 2 months. I'm on day 4 of the Curve. No problems yet. Yippie!
   
4. My job. As much as I complain and am driven completely insane by it sometimes, I am blessed to have it and all the perks it allows me.
   
5. Frozen custard. There is a place an hour north of where we live that serves this sinfully delicious treat. I guess I should also be grateful that it's so far away or weight loss might be an even bigger challenge.
   
6. My Harley Stud's bike. I am really somewhat of a reluctant biker chick with a split personality (I wear pearls with my leather) but we have a lot of fun and are getting ready to leave for a trip soon.
   
7. Country roads that curve, go over hills and into valleys. I get tired of the same old flat, straight roads in the area where I live. I love to venture north where the terrain has a little more character.
   
8. Spinning. It's good for me. It challenges me. And it kicks my butt. (Should I be grateful for that?)
   
9. Sugar snap peas. This is my new favorite snack.
   
10. Walks on the beach. And I don't do it often enough. Maybe today…….yes, today.

For what things are you grateful today?