Weekend rundown

shoes

The last few days were spent in the company of friends.  What could be better?  Yeah, I can’t think of anything either.  Here’s a glimpse at where the weekend took me …

Edwards 21.  It was my aunt’s 60th birthday – like a month ago – and let’s just say it hasn’t been her favorite milestone.  But by Jove, my mom and I were determined to take her out and have some fun!  After endless torment, she finally relented.  Lunch and a movie.  That was the deal.  So off we went … and what better film than “Up” to lift the spirits, right?  As my aunt planted her face in her hands, in tears, we thought perhaps we had misjudged.  Thankfully, by the end she was gushing that it must be the greatest feel good movie of the year!  PHEW!  Oh, and for the record, I may be the only person who cried at Die Hard, but such was not the case with this movie.  As a matter of fact, I found out yesterday that a friend’s friend – a teenage boy no less – cried.  So.  There.   

Idaho Fry Company.  Oh yes, a group of friends and I visited the infamous Idaho Fry Company (Soon-to-be-Something-Else Company because the Idaho Potato Commission is a group of morons – Oooh, did I say that out loud?!  Whoopsie – my bad!)  After scarfing a burg and yam fries I have but this to say:  LOVE!  So good … soooooo good!  I also tried the purple fries and the shoestring fries – which were like a party in a spud.  And the artwork – was it a frog or an alien? – I haven’t a clue, but it was a lot of fun!  And I said so – aloud – several times – though no one paid me any mind.  Needless to say, if you haven’t paid a visit to the Idaho Fry Company, you must.  And while you’re at it, peruse their website.  It’s some good times …

Esther Simplot Performing Arts Academy.  Our little Noah is all grown up.  Sigh.  And now I’m saying things that old people … really old people … use to say about me.  [SOB!!!]  But I digress.  So yesterday was his graduation celebration.  As he and his friends performed, I kept thinking of when he was this little boy who played this huge cello.  See?  There I go again!  It was good music, followed by good food and good friends.  The only downside was my shoes.  My shoes killed my feet.   When I got home, and plied them off my mutilated extremities, I had shooting pains running through my toes and up my ankle.  Something tells me this is not a good sign.  Pity, as they are cuter than ever – I may have to relegate them to decoration …

Freak of nature

Happy June – can you even believe?  The year is half over already!  I don’t know about you but I continue trudging toward goals set for the year; not doing a splendid job reaching any of them mind you, but trudging all the same.  This morning, for example, was strength training.  I was informed on Friday that we were meeting at my cousin’s house … something about circuit training … and running … I don’t know, but it sounded somewhat alarming.  This morning I received an email from my cousin.  The subject line read, “Don’t freak out!”  I don’t know where she got the idea I’d be freaking out.  WHO’S FREAKING OUT?!!!!  She continued to say she changed things up a bit – no more running to the park – we’d just meet there.  Okay.  She’s meeting me half-way, surely I can do the same, right?  So I change my clothes, grab my water bottle, and head out.

Now here’s the thing – you know how things look so much bigger when you’re young?  In your mind’s eye you remember such-and-such being SO large, but when you revisit as an adult, it’s nothing of the sort.  The last time I visited Camel’s Back Park I was young; and all I remember of the place is this ginormous hill.  Well, I drive up this morning, and the hill was even bigger than I remember.  It was  HUGE … mountainous even … and my group was at the base, getting ready to run up.  Who does that?!  Obviously not me.  I scrunched down in my seat to avoid being seen and quickly drove away.

Then the weirdest thing happened.  A craving for hashbrowns smote me.  Before I knew it I was beneath the Golden Arches {insert angels singing here}.  All things considered, it’s a beautiful way to start a new month.

Beauty

If, on the way home from a blind date, your date says something along the lines of “I think the thing that makes you MOST attractive is your proficient vocabulary”–the same year as a conversation similar to this–it may be time to work on your beauty regiment.

In the garden

In addition to, you know – the usual – I’ve been working here and there in the garden.  Here are a few snippets from green side …

Annoying sorts.  I have long maintained that garden centers are a good place to be, for gardeners are a happy lot.  Except perhaps when you’re in a hurry.  The other day, for instance, I ran in to purchase some rose food and potting soil.  That’s all I needed.  Two things.  Unbeknownst to me, however, it would take me 45 minutes to check-out.  Forty.  Five.  First off, the woman in front of me insisted on buying ten stones – of which they could not find the proper five-digit number.  Four people and a half an hour later, they were victorious.  For my turn, I was informed the potting soil was outside; I needed only to pay, pull in back, and put said soil in the trunk.  Well I paid, got in my car, drove over to where the potting soil was suppose to be, and it was nowhere to be found.  I reparked.  Got out of the car, grabbed a cart, wheeled it to the back of the garden center, only to find an empty shelf where my potting soil should have been.  So I threw the closest in price onto the cart, wheeled it back to the cashier, where I was promptly informed that I would need to go inside to customer service for any sort of cash back.  At that point, what was a dollar?  To end it all, on the way out some old lady whacked the side of my cart, “We’ll just following this one out and take her cart when she’s done.”  Suddenly, I knew what Alice must have felt like when the flowers turned on her …

Dill-thief.  Each year we purchase a new herb for our herb garden.  This year we opted for dill.  I mean, how much fun would that be?  Fresh dill!  We finally got it planted.  It seemed happy in it’s new home, surrounded by rosmary, sage, and thyme.  All was good.  Until Tuesday night.  Tuesday night some rodant got a hankering for dill.  It ate our whole plant – right down to nubs.  Wretched varmet!   

Evil feline.   Speaking of wretched varmets, I’m currently watering flowers for my aunt and uncle while they are on vacation.  I’m also feeding their cat.  Their cat is evil – as in the fru-its of the de-vil.  I know this.  And I usually steer clear.  But she seemed so pitiful yesterday.  She looked so little in that big house all by her lonesome.  So when she came up to be and rubbed around my legs, I gave her pets.   She purred, rubbed around my fingers for more.  Then – out of nowhere – she grabbed my hand, bit it, and hissed.  Like any rational adult, I simply walked away, leaving her to her snit … then, when she was sitting in the screened porch, watching me water the flowers, I sprayed her a good one.  It’s probably not right the glee that filled my heart … but, as we all know, it is the little things …