Food #AtoZChallenge

What are you eating these days?
(We've had some internet issues, so I'm keeping this short and sweet.)

The main change for us is that we can't go out to eat. Here's a picture of the last thing I ate in a restaurant:

March 12, 2020

That same restaurant was a good place for me to go to write. A few days after that meal, I was sitting there to read and write.

Beer, nook, facemask.

I wore a mask whenever the waiter came by. I was the only one there at first.

Then a trio of guys came in. They sat at the far side of the restaurant, so no worries. Another table was seated well behind me. But when this guy came in...

...I decided that was close enough. I finished my beer, paid and left.


Now, we eat in. Vietnam has officially closed all restaurants, except for delivery. That began on April 1, and is scheduled for two weeks, but may be extended.

In addition to delivery, our landlords have been randomly bringing over food.

Meals, snacks, and my favorite:

Coconut Coffee.

Mostly, we cook in, with occasional delivery. But our landlords are making sure we have food, too. We know we have it good.

How have your eating habits changed since all this self-isolation?

Fiction Friday - The Most Important Meal

Thanks to D.B. McNicol for the image! (blog)

“You’re up!” Bitsie was happy to have her old college roommate visiting, but it had been a surprise to see how lazy Amy had become in the intervening years. It was almost 11:00 a.m. already, and Bitsie had fixed breakfast for the family, done a load of laundry and picked up the playroom. She held off vacuuming while Amy was sleeping. 

The kids were off at a friends’ for the day. They didn’t like “Mommy’s friend”. Bitsie got it. She loved Amy. They had a tight bond that went back decades, but as a guest she was a nightmare. How did they live together for four years? Sleeping in wasn’t a problem, just a symptom of the bigger issue. 

Amy was pouring herself a cup of coffee, yawning and stretching in her shorty-shorts and a strappy camisole top that fluttered when she moved like it was trying to expose her perky breasts to everyone. Another good reason for the boys to be out of the house. At seven and ten, they might see more than Bitsie thought was good for them. 

“What’s for breakfast?” she asked through half-closed eyes barely visible above the mug she held in both hands. 

Ever the gracious hostess, Bitsie smiled and shrugged. “What would you like?” It was nearer lunchtime than breakfast, but she wasn’t going to quibble over terminology. 

Amy slouched against the countertop and angled her head toward the ceiling. “I kinda feel like pancakes today. Is that do-able?” She scrunched up her nose and looked at her ex-roommate as she asked, like she knew it was a big ask. 

“No problem,” Bitsie assured her. When the whole family was eating, she made pancakes from scratch, but this was going to be a quick meal for one, so she pulled the Bisquick out of the pantry and got to work. 

To her credit, Amy asked if she could help. “Plates in that cupboard, silverware, well, you know. Just help yourself to what you need. I ate hours ago with John and the boys.” Bitsie was focused on what she was doing, so didn’t notice Amy rooting around in the fridge and the pantry after handing over a plate and getting silverware. Just as she was lifting the first pancake off the griddle, she heard Amy ask, “Where’s the maple syrup?” 

“Umm…” Bitsie put the pancake on the plate and focused on the second one, nearly done. “I don’t think we have any.” 

“Wait – what?” The concept of no maple syrup seemed to baffle Amy. 

Bitsie checked the bottom of the second pancake and stacked it on top of the first one. With a sigh, she set the plate on the table where Amy had set down a fork, knife, her coffee mug, and the butter plate. Before pouring more batter onto the empty griddle, she went to the pantry. “Here.” She thrust two jars into Amy’s hands. 

Amy stared at the honey and the corn syrup, not understanding. “Uh…” 

“Sorry,” said Bitsie, pouring out more pancakes. Any uneaten pancakes would be a snack for later, but she had to make them now, while the griddle was hot. “We’re a honey house. I didn’t even think of it.” 

Amy set the jars next to her plate at the table, stuck a fork into the corn syrup, tasted it, and cringed. “U-yuch.” She did the same with the honey. Bitsie saw her double-dip out of the corner of her eye had cursed herself for having failed to give her the honey-dipper. Amy groaned a little. “Unnhh…” the noise sounded like a petulant child. Finally, she buttered the top pancake, and declared, “I guess I’ll just do without.” 

Amy had eaten about half of the top pancake – Bitsie was amused to see that she still ate her pancakes the way she did “back then”: top to bottom – and she rose from her seat. “I think I’ll just head into town for breakfast.” 

Bitsie smiled, lifting silver dollar pancakes into a tupperware container. It was obvious that Amy was heading off to get some pancakes with actual maple syrup. “Enjoy yourself. I have to get some things done here,” she said. She’d appreciate a little solitude while Amy got the food she wanted.

After Amy left, Bitsie added Maple Syrup to the grocery list on her phone. 

It's FICTION FRIDAY!
Every Friday, a new flash fiction story, inspired by reader comments. I hope you liked that story, based on the prompt "maple syrup" given during the A to Z Challenge by Anna Tan (of Deeply Shallow) on my "L" post (here). Feel free to leave a prompt for future use in the comments below!

If you choose to join in for Fiction Fridays, post a link to your story below in the comments. Next week's prompt is: Tree. If you join me next week, be sure to come back and share a link to your story!

Passion! ...Fruit

PASSIONFRUIT!
Living in the tropics as I do, passionfruit flavored/infused/juice drinks are everywhere. I tried passionfruit once and loved the tartness of it. I have also tried Tamarind flavored things, and liked them, too.

PASSIONFRUIT!

Yesterday morning, at the market, I finally remembered to try buying some passionfruit and tamarind, as I've wanted to. Now, I had never eaten fresh tamarind. I don't know if anyone ever does, but I thought I'd try a passionfruit-tamarind juice. Since I like them both.

Pods about 4-5" long, meat inside is sticky and pulpy.

I bought the fruit, then came home and looked up recipes. I did not immediately find anything combining the two fruits, possibly because - get this - they are BOTH known for being sour! haha. Joke's on me.

Both basic juice recipes call for a blender, and sweetener. We do not keep sweeteners at home, because ants are everywhere all the time, and I don't want to mess with the hassle of keeping them out of liquids, or trying to keep sugar crystals dry. I keep my life as simple as possible.

Without a blender, I did the best I could to collect the meat of each fruit. Tamarind is tricky, because it's pulpy. I really think I need to invest in a blender if I want to use tamarind again. But you know what? Unsweetened was perfect for me! I gave Brett a half-glass to taste, too. He didn't mind it, but commented that the passionfruit seeds are better than the juice itself. True. It's like pomegranate that way. He didn't drink any more, leaving me to basically drink 4 passionfruits. (I didn't take any pictures, sadly.)

Then, when I sat down at my computer, I looked up the nutrition of passionfruit, just for fun. It's fruit, so I figured it's healthy. I found out obvious things: high in antioxidants, protects against cancer, boosts the immune system. Blah, blah, typical tropical fruit things, right? Further down, I read that a small percentage of people have an allergic reaction. Okay, no problem, I'm not prone to allergies. 

Next sentence:

"Those with a latex allergy appear to be most at risk of a passion fruit allergy."

Guess who has an allergy to latex? Oops. My darling husband, whom I just poisoned. I sent him a quick message, so he'd be alert if his body acted weird. He said he already had a headache, on a day when he had just been talking about how GREAT he felt.

I'm a horrible wife.

Eating Habits

Real quick thought for today:

It's almost 5:00pm. I ate fruit early (8-ish) before we went to look at a house, then as soon as we got back I was STARVING, so we grabbed lunch to bring home from the tiny little hole-in-the-wall place near us: rice and tofu and egg and veg. That was before 11am. 

I was cautious about eating "lunch" so early, but everything is closed here from about 12:30-3:00, so if I didn't I would probably have had to eat my shoe. (or potato chips, something bad for me).

I just now realized that I'm not even hungry now when I should be!

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: Listen to your body. Eat when you're hungry, not at the "right" time.

Five Minute Friday... And We Won't Starve!

Once again, I am following the one-word prompt from Kate at Heading Home. These are actually useful for me to find simple ways to convey my new life in Beijing. 

If you're interested in trying it, click that link to her blog. Every Friday is a new word, and the only rules are: Write for 5 minutes. Link your post on hers. It's pretty cool, and I find a new blog every week.

(Now if only I would make the time to revisit more often during the week.)

This week's one-word is "Eat".

Timer starting...

We eat well.
The night we arrived in Beijing, we were treated to "Beijing Duck" (Beijing = formerly Peking) and many other tasty foods. Since then, Brett and I have tried numerous street vendors, found unique packaged goods in our grocery store, but not much in the way of typical junk food.

So we eat well. We eat more healthy food than we did in the states. No pizza (no oven), no popcorn (they make it sweet), only the occasional fast food. 

We are not starving, even though my pants are little looser since our arrival a month ago. Our first home-cooked meal in our own apartment, I took a picture and said, "We won't starve!" because there are fruit and veggie vendors out along our back street, and the smallest bag of rice available is huge for us. So at the very least, we can cook up some veggies and rice.

Make no mistake, the food here is NOT like your typical American Chinese restaurant. We eat delicious, bready breakfast dumplings, or the Beijing cross between a crepe and a burrito, right on the street. 

But we eat. God has seen fit to provide for us, once again.

Across the Sea

Greetings from beautiful Beijing!

 We arrived Tuesday evening, and were taken out for "Beijing Duck" and many other dishes, by our one known friend here, two people from the main school we'll be working with, and another friend. There is a right and wrong way to eat the duck, which kind of cuts the greasiness. It was delightful.

Carving the duck

The next three days were a blur. We went to meet the principal of the (main) school. (Between the two of us, we will be teaching at 4 schools.) Then we were taken around to look at several apartments that had been selected for us. We liked one, but were supposed to look at more, selected by our one friend. I'll call him M.

We went up to M's school, and told him what we'd seen, and when he heard we found one we liked within our price range, he urged us to just take it and not look at his, as they were more expensive. One of M's staff took us to get a Chinese sim card so that we can use our phones here. HOWEVER, the phones cannot yet be unlocked from our US account, so... we have no data plan.

Oh well.

That was just Wednesday!

On Thursday, we spent the morning going to get the medical check-up for our work visas. What an eye-opener! It took an hour to get there, but we saw about 10 medical professionals in a half-hour. It was so stream-lined we only spent a few moments with each. Actually, that half-hour included getting pictures taken and queuing to pay! America could really learn something there. The sacrifice? No bedside manner. It was very abrupt, but that is, to me, a worthwhile sacrifice.

We spent the afternoon wandering through an historic, yet touristy area, and saw a wild selection of trinkets to send back as gifts someday.

I love the funny English

Long story short, yesterday we signed a lease and took over the biggest suitcases. Today we will finish moving in, clean, and explore our new neighborhood.

In our neighborhood. There are trees throughout the city, actually.

Joy of joys - Today begins a week-long holiday for Chinese National Day. So we can settle in, buy necessities like bedding, and visit some well-known sites (I'm looking at you, Tienanmen and Forbidden City)!

Tragedy - We do not yet have wifi at our new home, so it will again be at least a week before I can post.

Updated: Q is for Qdoba

logo image from qdoba.com

Well, I’m sure we’ve all been scraping the bottom of the barrel to come up with a “Q”, and I actually had a different Mexican restaurant in mind first, but there was no story to go with it. “I once went to a Mexican restaurant called Que Pasa” would pretty much be the entire blog post. Then I remembered discovering Qdoba.

For those of you who’ve never been, Qdoba subscribes to the Subway-style of fast-food prep. You get in line, give them your order, and they build your taco, burrito, taco salad… (um…are there other items?) as you walk along the sneeze-guard selecting your toppings. Clever. 

image from bizjournals.com

How did *I* first find Qdoba? With a side of symphony, as I’m sure most people do! Wait, Mexican fast-food isn’t the standard dinner before going to listen to Beethoven’s 5th Symphony? Shocked. I am shocked.

Delaware Symphony Orchestra is a remarkably high-quality group. I say this because who would guess such a tiny state had such culture? But honestly, Wilmington, DE is smooshed in between Baltimore and Philly, and so has access to fantastic musicians who played with symphonies in larger cities. I’m guessing that’s it. 

Anyway, I love Beethoven, so when his 5th Symphony came around I dragged my best friend along – who knew nothing of classical music, but loved learning and experiencing new things. 

We dressed up, drove the 2 1/2 hours from “slower lower” Delaware to Wilmington, found parking near the Opera House, and decided to walk around a few blocks and find some "suitable" restaurant. 

There was a very expensive, fancy restaurant right across the street from the Opera House, but it would have required reservations. And money. And I love my friend, but not enough for that kind of ambience. The only place that seemed to be within our price range and not a dicey dive was something called… QDOBA! 

I’d never been before, and I think it might have been new to her, too, so we tried it out and had to have the process explained to us. It was tasty.

It was cheap.

It was quick so we could get back in time to get our seats.

Moral of the Story: Don’t be a snob – if the food is tasty, it’s suitable for the occasion!

***UPDATE 4/28/16 ***
i just had to pop in here to update this. The coincidence of life...

And in a hilarious twist,  today's retirement luncheon for a co-worker is catered by: QDOBA! (I've never tried their catering service before.)

The Aftermath

I survived!
Like I said before, I wasn't worried that I would NOT survive, just stressed about the event itself.

The dinner I'm referring to happened, what, 3 weeks ago? I'm lax in my writing. Sorry.

It started badly. I shot right by the restaurant, even with my GPS...the signage was all on the other side, on a one-way street. So I was running late now, having to navigate the stupid one-way downtown streets. Almost hyperventilating. But I prevented myself from crying, thankfully.

I arrived later than I intended, but earlier than the guests. One coworker was there,  and the Founder Of The Firm! Oops. He was actually a big help. I think we're bonding. 

And I really think most people are more flexible about time than I am, so no sweat.

People came in, I gave them nametags and explained about the wine (bottles of red were out, but they had to ask for the white, which was still on the chill). Once I was behind my little greeter table, I was quite comfortable, and would have been happy to stay there until I left. But my boss arrived, schmoozed some clients a bit, and came by to check who hadn't arrived, declared they wouldn't be there, and pointed me to a seat between two clients' wives.

Oy. Socializing.
I survived. More than that, I was hailed as the organizer of the event! And both big bosses thanked me for all my hard work. (awww...)

When I felt done, and thought everyone was comfortable with the scenario, I excused myself to my boss, who gave some final instructions, and I left.

The weight of the world was off my shoulders.

Next day, at work, my boss offers me a gift card to this restaurant. Apparently they made a deal to get 2 or 3 gift cards, since we were giving them HUGE business, and everyone felt I earned one of them.

I'm very grateful for that. It is a great restaurant for Brett - a Brazilian steakhouse where the meat just keeps coming. But I don't eat red meat, so $50 a plate is too much for me to spend on a salad bar and a couple pieces of chicken. Now, I get to take him to a fancy restaurant that I would never go to otherwise!

I'm so excited.

We have reservations for this weekend.

He just got *another* 100% on his last class, so we're celebrating that.
And Also? It will be the 1 1/2 year anniversary of the day we met. AWWW!

I Found My Thrill on Blueberry Hill!

(...that's a title of a Louis Armstrong song.)

It's also the name of the restaurant where we ate Brett's "birthday" lunch.

My Promised Post About My Recent Weekend Road-trip with Brett.



It was a fun weekend. We went to St. Louis, to specific places we'd not been together before. We must have walked about 8 or 10 miles on Saturday, in downtown, and up in the University City (?) area, where Blueberry Hill - a very famous restaurant - sits among cool shops, art galleries, and coffee-shops.

It was a pretty low-key weekend, if you call "Champagne Brunch" low-key! (I learned that a Mimosa made with cranberry juice is called a Poinsettia. Yum.)

Wait, back up...

Brett's shoulder, sans monkey.

On TUESDAY (I think), Brett was in the ER with his horrible, possessed-by-a-monkey shoulder. His current job is very physical, so by the time the weekend rolled around he had movement, but was still on some kind of painkillers, and the arm was in a sling. Fun times!

It was. It is always fun times. We just enjoy each other's company, so any "activity" or "meal" or "location" is just a setting for our fun.

At one point, I noticed that we didn't seem as in-sync as usual, and I guessed that his shoulder was bugging him more than he was saying. Later, at Blueberry Hill, I got some kind of "stuff overload" from all the very cool memorabilia. So I was kind of out of sync for a while.

My wounded hero mimicking art.



But it doesn't matter! It was still a good time, with good food, and good art. In fact, it was an exhaustingly  good time.

After meandering the University City (?) area, we both needed to relax, so we headed back to the hotel. I'd received a reliable tip on a good blues club to visit in St. Louis, so we looked at the website together, saw who was playing, looked up both acts, and decided we liked the later one better. Later as in 10pm-2am...or something.

No problem. That's why we were chilling.

...and comfortable.
...and ordered a pizza.
...and relaxed.
...and didn't want to go anywhere anymore.

BUT I HAD PLANNED TO GO OUT AGAIN!
but my feet were tired.
BUT I HAD A RECOMMENDATION!
but I could lay my head on Brett's shoulder here.
BUT - DRINKS AND AN APPETIZER TO SHARE!
but I could take out my contacts if I stay.

And here's how awesome Brett is for me, knowing how I am about following through with my plans.
He put down his computer, leaned over to me where I was playing Sudoku on my phone, looked me in the eyes and said:
"You know, we don't *have* to go out again." - notice, no CAPS, just *asterisks*.
and then...
"I'm happy to go wherever you want, but we don't have to if you don't want to."

I think my logical response was, "But I really wanted to report back to [Otis] about going to this place."

But I thought about how I truly felt right then...

And I realized that Brett was right.

(I compromised with myself by taking Brett down to a hotel restaurant for drinks and an appetizer)

Added  bonus of the perfect boyfriend setting everything right:
"Otis" saw one of the pictures Brett posted the next day and commented about the location, and Brett simply let him know we didn't make it to the particular club he mentioned, but that there will be other times.

He is so perfect for me.

True Love by Donuts

SHHHhh... Brett and Kirsten are still asleep.

That's right. I'm blogging from Brett's house. (This post will probably only be interesting to regular followers of the "Red and Brett" romance. If you're new here, check out last year's post that started it all for some insight into where I'm coming from. OR, just for something different, I recommend my "pervert" post.)

I'm up but Brett and his daughter are not. We're from two different time zones. My body is in the habit of getting up an hour earlier because of the time difference. Well okay, that and the fact that I get up super-early to be at work early, whereas Brett works nights. Yeah. We're not exactly on the same schedule.

When I awoke this morning to the point where I couldn't ignore it, and could see light coming in the kitchen window, it was 6:35. They're sound asleep. I decided to walk up to the gas station for coffee. See, there are some unavoidable differences between Brett and myself, besides the whole time/schedule thing:

Coffee - He doesn't drink it on a regular basis.

The Cold - I think he recently posted something about how much he hates cold weather, but maybe that was on Facebook or Twitter. Anyway, he HATES it. So I wouldn't consider asking him to venture out this morning.

Exercise - Actually, Brett and I always end up going for a walk when we're together. Usually after a meal, sometimes with the dog (if he's visiting me). But first thing in the morning? ...well okay, we've never tried.

ANYWAY, I'm awake, so decided to walk to the gas station. I figured "if Brett gets up, he'll see my blankets are still all messy on the sofa, and know I didn't just leave."
...I don't know why I had that thought, like as if this was some trashy booty-call or something. It's a totally bizarre thing to cross my mind! But I thought it. Call it lack of caffeine or whatever...

I got up, pulled on jeans from yesterday and a ball-cap, reached for my coat...

There's a problem. I'm a bed-maker. At home I don't get into the shower before my bed's made, and I certainly couldn't leave the house with the "blankets all messy..." so I folded them neatly and put them away before I left.

DUDE! It's friggin' COLD! It was a nice walk, but I couldn't feel my ears by the time I got there.

One giant coffee (to last me the morning), one Mt. Dew for Brett, and a half-dozen donuts later, I went back into the cold.
The donuts were kind of an after-thought.

We have a donut thing.

I'm not a huge donut-fan, but ...caution, this is kind of sappy!...

Brett and I, living so far apart, text frequently. And occasionally there will be a series of texts trying to humorously comparatively better describe our affection. One time, Brett randomly texted "I love you so much I'd share my donuts with you." To which, I'm sure I replied something sweetly endearing like "What kind of donuts?" Because my mental image requires details! You know what I mean: am I visualizing a Dunkin Donuts box of a dozen, in which case will you let me have the "creme-filled"? Or are we talking about Entenmann's cake-style donuts in which case I want the crumb-top, or do you have a dozen Krispy-Kreme glazed? There's a different visual!

...Brett's so awesome. I think this quirk (I say "quirk" because it sounds cuter and more fun than "neurosis") of mine to need details drives him crazy, but he laughs.

Well, the next time I visited we bought donuts. I think that was my idea, because I distinctly remember discussing the *fact* that "Of course your town has a bakery where they make fresh donuts" because if we were going to do this, I wanted to go all out and get fancy ones, and Brett informed me that he was sure there was no such bakery, that donuts came from the grocery store or the gas station, or a truck stop, but he did the research anyway just to verify that there wasn't a bakery he didn't know about, BECAUSE I kept pestering him to prove a point HE LOVES ME.

So today, donuts. Just 'cause.
From a gas station.

...and I think I might hear stirring in the back rooms of the house, so I better be done.
I am totally becoming "that girl" who always talks about her relationship. What about you? Tell me your funny relationship story! (I know you've got them...)

Spread Wars: The Return of the Crunchy

Michael D'Agostino of The World As I See It is collecting pro-peanut butter blog-uments to continue (or end) the Spread Wars of 2012, a battle begun between him and fellow Aussie, Rusty of Swinging Like a Rusty Gate. (Those two links are, I believe, the two posts that started Spread Wars. Read the comments to get an idea of the extent of these debates.)

If size counts, we've already won!

~~~




If Rusty posted more often, perhaps he could garner such support for his spread of choice, Nutella. Just sayin'.
~~~

 

Now, I realize the posts that are collecting are all purely opinion, and I assume the goal here is to establish a consensus, not "prove" one is "better". (I'm actually not going to read the other arguments collecting on Michael's blog until I've posted this.) Opinion or not, I really don't see how there can be a debate!

 

I'm not going to cite facts and stats. Calories, schmalories. As far as health goes, neither spread is as good for you as an apple (which is best when sliced and spread with peanut butter, anyway).

 

Although I will mention the fact that peanut butter is much more affordable than Nutella. In the States, at least. Maybe Australia sits in the golden Nutella zone where it is cheapest. But I can't say that price doesn't weigh into my shopping decision!

 

Beyond that, as I started listing the reasons I find peanut butter superior to Nutella, I have to say the big one is guilt. Nutella *feels like* dessert. I know, I know, it's made with hazelnuts...AND CHOCOLATE! Why not grab the Hershey's syrup? Sprinkle it with some ground hazelnuts and you'll have a healthier snack.

 

Which brings me to:
Where's the crunchy Nutella? If it's really made of nuts, there should be a crunchy option.

 

What makes peanut butter superior to Nutella?
Variety. Nutella has no options. In this house, I keep crunchy for myself, my dad likes creamy "with honey", and there is currently Peter Pan creamy because it is the best for baking. I know some moms who like the convenience of peanut butter and jelly blends for use in quick sandwich-making, and of course, the health-nuts organic food eaters can get their kind. Is Nutella organic? I don't think so.

Nuts. See above comment about crunchy Nutella.

Versatility. I get that peanut butter and Nutella can both be spread on just about anything and improve it, but of the two, only peanut butter can be the base. Have peanut butter on your bread? It can stand alone. Feel a need for more sweetness? By all means, add Nutella...or honey... or jam, or fruit preserves. For variety, add cheese (Yes, Michael, I do that too). Or even bologna - something my brother started me on as a kid. The possibilities are endless.

Proven nutrition. (I believe I mentioned this in a comment somewhere.) When I organized a youth event to explore/experience hunger, one of the recipes recommended by World Vision to end our "famine" was peanut-butter based. (The recipe for "PlumpyNut" should be at this link.) Apparently in countries where this charity is assisting starving kids, the product they give to severely undernourished children is this peanut buttery goop. If it's good enough to feed starving children, it must have true value.

 

 

Remember these? From a few posts ago?

All that said, let me say, I am not "anti-Nutella" as I have been accused. I enjoy Nutella, who wouldn't? It's sweet! It's like dessert...and it accompanies peanut butter beautifully. Twice now I have brought different types of peanut butter cookies to the home of my Internet Fiance, and we have spread them with Nutella, and it was good. However, my peanut butter cookies stand alone. They do not require Nutella to be sweet, melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Nutella, frankly, is  superfluous.

I do enjoy both, but can see many more benefits to peanut butter. Given a choice of only one, I take peanut butter. In fact, I make that choice every time I go to the grocery store. I haven't had Nutella in my pantry in years but I always buy a new jar of peanut butter before the current one runs out. You want proof of a winner of Spread Wars? Follow the money.


(On a side note, is the yellow font easier to read? I read someone saying about the difficulty of reading blogs with black backgrounds, and suddenly remembered a study we found when I was captioning videos, about the easiest reading being black on yellow or yellow on black. Let me know if this change helps.)

 

Guest Posting and What's Up in Iowa

Dudes! I survived the weekend road-trip with my parents!

Actually, I'm not even really here to say that. Adam, AKA DJTrain over at The Train's Whistle was given the Kreativ Blogger Award, and suggested I write it as a guest post. Woot-woot! My first guest post! I have to say, not only did I have fun with it, I think it's some of my best - and indeed most creative - writing so far. Go check it out HERE! (and while you're there be sure to read some of his earlier stuff. It's pretty cool.)

Since I wrote a full post already, I'm just going to share some photos from this weekend's trip, and call it a day. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words!
(I'm including an extra special bonus)

First, to catch you up in general. Last week on Thursday I went out to watch Brett's softball game. I brought along homemade peanut-butter cookies, and before heading to the game...

...we spread them with Nutella, satisfying the debate happening over on Rusty's blog.

yes, there are milk chocolate chips in some of them. I like to experiment.

At the game, I was commissioned to write for The Train's Whistle, as I linked to above.

Here he is: the man, the myth, the Coach DJTrain!

On Friday, my parents, my aunt, and I headed off towards Iowa.

The Amana Colonies are an Amish community in Eastern Iowa.

Iowa is NOT flat! It is gently rolling prairie - well, fields now.

That gets me every time. People who've never been there think Iowa is flat. Not true, people. You are mistaking Iowa for Kansas.

This cracked me up...

You "redeem" your empties for the deposit, but it sounds
as if there's an AA meeting in the back room or something!

Summertime at the lake. Crazy. People with boats tethered together, people on boats with a raft pulled behind, speed boats, pontoon boats...

This isn't even the most crowded part, because I was trying to get all the RVs.

This is the town of my paternal grandmother. We visited a lot when I was a kid. I was delighted to see that the same old death-traps toys are still in the park:

The rolling barrel o' joy.
Or, for those of us with big brothers:
The rolling barrel o' terror.

...and isn't it amazing that we ALL survived these?

The reunion itself was fun. As of course they always are. I won't share pictures of all the family, though. You're welcome!

Sunday we headed back across the state to my Mom's brother's house. When we stopped for lunch, guess whose table number was the Ultimate Answer!!!

(My parents did not understand why this was photo-worthy.)

More proof of Iowa's non-flatness.

For breakfast the next day we stopped at a good old fashioned Iowa local restaurant. Check out this cinnamon bun!

Dudes! It's as tall as a juice glass! That's 3 meals right there.

The Mighty Mississippi. It's really big, dudes. And I'm not even crossing it at a notably wide spot!

Well that's it, really. Not really, really, because all the stuff that you'd have to be family to appreciate isn't here, and that was the whole purpose of the trip. My dad was the youngest of 6. Of the 6 kids, 4 had 5 kids, and 2 had 3. PLUS any living siblings of my dad's dad, and their kids/grandkids come, too. (My dad's dad was the oldest of 6.)

That's a LOT of people. Of all ages. Actually, there are only two from my generation (and my grandpa's branch) that are younger than me: my brother and one cousin. I have cousins who have kids that are nearer my age than my cousins. Heck, I have cousins who are grandparents! So it's kind of weird, still being the young one. But it was fun. And I decided that if our generation is going to continue this, we need to start wearing name-tags. And family tree-tags.

Extra Special Bonus...JUST for playing along and actually reading this lengthy post all the way to the bottom, I've decided to include an actual, CURRENT picture of me:

My Eye.

True, dudes. It was a lot of driving, and somewhere in between reading and napping, I got bored and took an extreme close-up of myself. You're welcome.

And FINALLY finally,
In today's Something to Celebrate:
On this date in 1942, Anne Frank was given a diary for her 13th birthday. It gives you chills, doesn't it?