How can all these things happen at once? I am trying to be a quick study and a good "country" gal, but it's a challenge.
Let's begin with what I call incident #1...my fiance and I have a conversation:
J: Do you have any tupperware containers or aluminimum pie plates?
M: Why? (Thinking of my tupperware containers I just got from my parents).
J: I need them for something outside.
M: Why? (Why do I keep asking why...that's my first mistake)
I get him two Glad containers and ask what he is going to do with them (and tell him that I likely never want to see them in the house again anyway, regardless)...and before he can answer, I tell him that I don't want to know. I watch him get two of my Pepsi's out of the fridge, and then curiosity gets the best of me. I ask, "what are you doing?" I don't want to know, but I have to know.
He proceeds to tell me that we have raccoons in the tree outside, and they are now eating the corn. So, he is putting Pepsi in tupperware containers and putting them outside by the tree. Why? (I ask again). The raccoons will drink the Pepsi...and they can't burp...so they will explode and die.
I stare at Josh. Are you kidding me? (That's what I think). What I say is, "Who is going to take care of their exploded carcusses?" Yeah. Oh, and this gets googled to see if it is true -- there are disputes on the internet about this technique. But needless to say, we lost two cans of Pepsi and I think we still have raccoons...
Incident #2...Trash. We burn our trash here. I know some of you can't comprehend that, I still have trouble with it myself -- you have to think alot more about what you are throwing away, that's for sure. We (well...I...) made a mistake once by putting the trash bag in the garage until our next "burn" and it leaked food and smelled. So, as I am departing for the weekend and taking the trash out (Josh is already gone), I am not sure what to do. I am perplexed -- I can't leave it in the garage again. I can't leave it outside, by the garage, because the animals will get into it. So, I think it is wise to take it to the trash burn bin, (not sure if that is the actual name) and set it inside of there, even though we are not burning it yet. Fast forward to Sunday when I return home before Josh (thank goodness!), and much to my mortification, I see the trash bag split open and trash all over...apparently the animals can still get into it in the trash burn bin. UGH! I decide I better get this cleaned up before Josh wrings my neck. So I go to burn the trash -- with matches, which I am not good at -- and get a very hot fire started...before I picked up all the trash (dumb), and therefore, I can't pick up the trash anywhere close by or I will burn my face off. Burning trash = awesome....
Incident #3...The skunk. He's dead. On the road. Birds are feeding on him as I drive up. Why worry...he's dead. For the record...your car will smell like a skunk even if you drive over a dead one. Apparently his stinker gland was not dead. Yuck. And I park in the garage. I begin to tell Josh about all these adventures, and he says "what was incident #3?", patiently, as always. And I simply say, off handedly, "it involved a skunk." He says, "You hit one?" and I say, "Not exactly. It will be fine." He smiles, and says, "Your car smells like a skunk and you parked in the garage." Oops...I simply smile and say, "Oh no, no problem." And then spend the next day trying to air out the garage not to smell like skunk. Seriously...
Let's hope that is all the incidents for this week. I sheepishly tell my stories to Josh, and he consistently smiles, demonstrates patience, and says "It will be okay. You'll learn." Yeah...I'll learn...the hard way most days apparently!!!
Country Livin'
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Happy Anniversary Little Cedar Church!
My fiance never ceases to expose me to new experiences. I love him for that. Otherwise, I would really be missing out...here is a prime example...
Long story short, we may be getting married in a Presbyterian church. I'm not Presbyterian, so I view this as a concern. So I begin "googling" (my source of all information) the faith so I can learn about it and have some bank of knowledge. But then I say "we need to get to a Presbyterian mass". My lovely Josh was baptized Presbyterian but I can't say he goes to their masses often -- but he agrees -- if we may marry in the Presbyterian church, we will dedicate ourselves to figuring it out...right?!
So I should not be surprised on Sunday morning when he says "I thought I would take you to the Presbyterian mass." Awww...great stuff! Let's go. I am always up for an adventure (yeah, right...have you met me?!). Now, this would not be the church we would be marrying in, but would give me my first glimpse to the faith. I was nervous. Being Catholic, I am use to the tradition, the solemness, the focus on God, etc. - and I don't go to a lot of other masses.
As we begin to drive to mass, I realize we are not driving to "town", and ask what we are doing. I then learn that Josh does not want to go to the Presbyterian mass in Monmouth -- but rather, we are headed to Little York -- town of approximately 250 people. Church with approximately 16 pews!
Not only am I exposed to a new faith, but I am totally exposed to life in small town Little York (said around here really fast so it is like LilYork). Oh my...of course people knew us...or rather, knew Josh and by extension, me. And no one seemed surprised to see us there, as if we always belong. So much so that when they announced that the church was celebrating 50 years, I should not have been surprised that we would, of course, be in the photo. WHAT?! I was mortified. We were new to this church and yet, front and center middle pews, we would be documented for history sake in the 50 year photo -- Josh's grandparents have the 25 year photo at home. There was no way out of it, we were stuck, so all we could do is smile, as I said "Oh my God" and Josh reminded me that we were in church so I should say "Gosh" instead...
As for mass...it was different...welcoming, which we needed. So family friendly. We even started mass by singing happy birthday to someone -- for this stoic, somber Catholic, I about fell out of my pew...as that was followed by calls out of prayer requests from the audience, and action from the worship band as the pastor said "wake em' up"! Oh Little York...so entertaining... after one more photo outside (which we could also not escape), we were back in the car on the way home. Josh all smiles, saying this is a church he could really get use to, and asking me what I thought... and all I could do was laugh. Did that really just happen?!
I love my fiance. He's the most unique person I know and life with him will NEVER be dull. And if it ever is, I will suggest we head to Little York...when the only other time I have visited was when we went to a karaoke bar there...but that's a story for another time...
Long story short, we may be getting married in a Presbyterian church. I'm not Presbyterian, so I view this as a concern. So I begin "googling" (my source of all information) the faith so I can learn about it and have some bank of knowledge. But then I say "we need to get to a Presbyterian mass". My lovely Josh was baptized Presbyterian but I can't say he goes to their masses often -- but he agrees -- if we may marry in the Presbyterian church, we will dedicate ourselves to figuring it out...right?!
So I should not be surprised on Sunday morning when he says "I thought I would take you to the Presbyterian mass." Awww...great stuff! Let's go. I am always up for an adventure (yeah, right...have you met me?!). Now, this would not be the church we would be marrying in, but would give me my first glimpse to the faith. I was nervous. Being Catholic, I am use to the tradition, the solemness, the focus on God, etc. - and I don't go to a lot of other masses.
As we begin to drive to mass, I realize we are not driving to "town", and ask what we are doing. I then learn that Josh does not want to go to the Presbyterian mass in Monmouth -- but rather, we are headed to Little York -- town of approximately 250 people. Church with approximately 16 pews!
Not only am I exposed to a new faith, but I am totally exposed to life in small town Little York (said around here really fast so it is like LilYork). Oh my...of course people knew us...or rather, knew Josh and by extension, me. And no one seemed surprised to see us there, as if we always belong. So much so that when they announced that the church was celebrating 50 years, I should not have been surprised that we would, of course, be in the photo. WHAT?! I was mortified. We were new to this church and yet, front and center middle pews, we would be documented for history sake in the 50 year photo -- Josh's grandparents have the 25 year photo at home. There was no way out of it, we were stuck, so all we could do is smile, as I said "Oh my God" and Josh reminded me that we were in church so I should say "Gosh" instead...
As for mass...it was different...welcoming, which we needed. So family friendly. We even started mass by singing happy birthday to someone -- for this stoic, somber Catholic, I about fell out of my pew...as that was followed by calls out of prayer requests from the audience, and action from the worship band as the pastor said "wake em' up"! Oh Little York...so entertaining... after one more photo outside (which we could also not escape), we were back in the car on the way home. Josh all smiles, saying this is a church he could really get use to, and asking me what I thought... and all I could do was laugh. Did that really just happen?!
I love my fiance. He's the most unique person I know and life with him will NEVER be dull. And if it ever is, I will suggest we head to Little York...when the only other time I have visited was when we went to a karaoke bar there...but that's a story for another time...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Food: In and Out of Our House
I know this will sound weird to some of my country friends, but we eat differently when you grow up in the city. Restaurants are different -- not better -- just different. The pace, style, type of food, and service is all different. It's hard to explain.
I have discovered this in dating Josh and visiting, and now living in the area. For instance, we eat at the "Hungry Hobo", which when he first took me there, I couldn't believe it. I also could never remember the name so just called it the "Hobo" -- side note, it's also next door to "Happy Joe's", which I thought was the same restuarant (Happy Joe's Hungry Hobo) but I have come to learn that Happy Joe's is another restuarant that we have recently explored. While the Hungry Hobo is a random restaurant, I have come to quite adore this place that serves the biggest baked potatoes (made to order) that I have ever seen. Now I find myself saying "let's eat at the Hobo!"
Small town America is also known for their dives or holes in the wall, which are a hidden secret. Because even though I thought I would die before I called these restuarants "home", I have found myself going back, trading classy atmosphere for good food at times. Such as McMahon's Pub, a new discovery introduced to me by the Oaks family. In fact, when I walked in with my future mother-in-law, she said, as she is opening the door "this place will certainly be blog worthy!" It's hidden in Monmouth -- almost literally. The first time, I followed the street to get there and it was a dead end, only to find I had to detour around a few blocks to stumble upon this place. The cheapest lunch special ($4.50 with the drink!) and decent food - what's a girl, who use to have a meal plan in the residence halls, to do?! Head to McMahon's, that's what...I'm not dumb.
We frequent the Italian Village (or as called by the locals, the IV) for pizza -- it's not so much a Village as it is a big room, with pizza ovens, folding tables, chairs, and no air conditioning. Not a fine dining experience but I bet you would love the cheesy bread too!
Then there's the gas station restuarants. I had this first experience in college when my college roommate (from a near by small town) took me home. This Chicago girl had no clue about country life then (even less than now), and when we went to pick up the pizza, we went to Casey's gas station. I asked, confused, "what are we doing, getting gas?" She said, "No, we are getting pizza." Did I mention I was from Chicago -- where we practically invented (great) pizza? And we don't pick up our pizza at a gas station! I had a similar experience when Josh first took me to "Charley's", which turned out to be a sandwich shop attached to the gas station. Yet, there we sit and eat -- with other people -- like this is the most natural thing in the world...
We eat out alot, I know. I could go on and on with the adventures I have had with restuarants in the area, or even ones that I have yet to get to -- such as the BBQ Shack that Josh's parents promise me what it lacks in ambience (picnic tables) it makes up for in awesome BBQ. I'm not a snob and I love me some BBQ...and pizza...so bring on the picnic tables and gas stations folks, if that is what it takes...I am not above that...
When we don't eat out, we eat at home -- I cook now. Believe it or not. I know, some of you are laughing out loud. I can cook...sometimes...and it is trial and error when I can't. I am marrying an awesome sport who eats just about everything, tells me it is great, and always goes to bat for me in telling other people I am too hard on myself. As Josh says "it may not win a contest for looking good, but it still always tastes the same." Thank you for that! He even ate the shrimp fettuccine alfredo I made last week with a smile...oh yeah, sounds awesome except for when your fiance mistakes a teaspoon for a tablespoon and brings on the basil! Oh well, we all had to learn some how right? Great memories to laugh about some day.
My home cooking lessons with Josh sometimes go like this, which is my favorite: I say "I am going to make green beans" and he says "with bacon?" Ummm...didn't know green beans were made with bacon!? In the country, they are. I learn these lessons a lot -- where a simple meal, has a twist that no one told me yet. Where's the country cooking handbook? Grilled cheese is made a special way in the Oaks household too, in case you wondered. Who knew? I just smile and say, "yes, sure, with bacon..." ?!
Finally, and I know some of you will think I am crazy when I say this, but in honor of full disclosure, there's the beef... yes, back to the cow... turned to beef. Simple right? However, I buy my ground beef at the store. Josh and his family bought half a cow and have ground beef in the freezer --- so they say I should take some, use it, cook it, eat it. They keep reminding me. For awhile, despite this, I kept going to the store. YES, I know it is the SAME beef...but it's a mental thing -- there's something different about getting it at the store (yes, I know it is crazy), but I just couldn't do it. Finally, last week, I did. It probably tasted the same. But, it's hard still. I'm growing. It's the same beef. I know, I know...
Live and learn. We don't starve and we are never short of a food story. I still prefer Chicago pizza, but bring on the tacos from McMahon's on Thursdays any day...
I have discovered this in dating Josh and visiting, and now living in the area. For instance, we eat at the "Hungry Hobo", which when he first took me there, I couldn't believe it. I also could never remember the name so just called it the "Hobo" -- side note, it's also next door to "Happy Joe's", which I thought was the same restuarant (Happy Joe's Hungry Hobo) but I have come to learn that Happy Joe's is another restuarant that we have recently explored. While the Hungry Hobo is a random restaurant, I have come to quite adore this place that serves the biggest baked potatoes (made to order) that I have ever seen. Now I find myself saying "let's eat at the Hobo!"
Small town America is also known for their dives or holes in the wall, which are a hidden secret. Because even though I thought I would die before I called these restuarants "home", I have found myself going back, trading classy atmosphere for good food at times. Such as McMahon's Pub, a new discovery introduced to me by the Oaks family. In fact, when I walked in with my future mother-in-law, she said, as she is opening the door "this place will certainly be blog worthy!" It's hidden in Monmouth -- almost literally. The first time, I followed the street to get there and it was a dead end, only to find I had to detour around a few blocks to stumble upon this place. The cheapest lunch special ($4.50 with the drink!) and decent food - what's a girl, who use to have a meal plan in the residence halls, to do?! Head to McMahon's, that's what...I'm not dumb.
We frequent the Italian Village (or as called by the locals, the IV) for pizza -- it's not so much a Village as it is a big room, with pizza ovens, folding tables, chairs, and no air conditioning. Not a fine dining experience but I bet you would love the cheesy bread too!
Then there's the gas station restuarants. I had this first experience in college when my college roommate (from a near by small town) took me home. This Chicago girl had no clue about country life then (even less than now), and when we went to pick up the pizza, we went to Casey's gas station. I asked, confused, "what are we doing, getting gas?" She said, "No, we are getting pizza." Did I mention I was from Chicago -- where we practically invented (great) pizza? And we don't pick up our pizza at a gas station! I had a similar experience when Josh first took me to "Charley's", which turned out to be a sandwich shop attached to the gas station. Yet, there we sit and eat -- with other people -- like this is the most natural thing in the world...
We eat out alot, I know. I could go on and on with the adventures I have had with restuarants in the area, or even ones that I have yet to get to -- such as the BBQ Shack that Josh's parents promise me what it lacks in ambience (picnic tables) it makes up for in awesome BBQ. I'm not a snob and I love me some BBQ...and pizza...so bring on the picnic tables and gas stations folks, if that is what it takes...I am not above that...
When we don't eat out, we eat at home -- I cook now. Believe it or not. I know, some of you are laughing out loud. I can cook...sometimes...and it is trial and error when I can't. I am marrying an awesome sport who eats just about everything, tells me it is great, and always goes to bat for me in telling other people I am too hard on myself. As Josh says "it may not win a contest for looking good, but it still always tastes the same." Thank you for that! He even ate the shrimp fettuccine alfredo I made last week with a smile...oh yeah, sounds awesome except for when your fiance mistakes a teaspoon for a tablespoon and brings on the basil! Oh well, we all had to learn some how right? Great memories to laugh about some day.
My home cooking lessons with Josh sometimes go like this, which is my favorite: I say "I am going to make green beans" and he says "with bacon?" Ummm...didn't know green beans were made with bacon!? In the country, they are. I learn these lessons a lot -- where a simple meal, has a twist that no one told me yet. Where's the country cooking handbook? Grilled cheese is made a special way in the Oaks household too, in case you wondered. Who knew? I just smile and say, "yes, sure, with bacon..." ?!
Finally, and I know some of you will think I am crazy when I say this, but in honor of full disclosure, there's the beef... yes, back to the cow... turned to beef. Simple right? However, I buy my ground beef at the store. Josh and his family bought half a cow and have ground beef in the freezer --- so they say I should take some, use it, cook it, eat it. They keep reminding me. For awhile, despite this, I kept going to the store. YES, I know it is the SAME beef...but it's a mental thing -- there's something different about getting it at the store (yes, I know it is crazy), but I just couldn't do it. Finally, last week, I did. It probably tasted the same. But, it's hard still. I'm growing. It's the same beef. I know, I know...
Live and learn. We don't starve and we are never short of a food story. I still prefer Chicago pizza, but bring on the tacos from McMahon's on Thursdays any day...
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
A Dog as a Pet vs. the Farm Dog
For those of you that know me, I am not a dog person...especially big dogs. I am not afraid, per se, but have my reasons on why having a big dog in our lives is not an idea I have embraced. I will spare you all the list of reasons but you can ask some time...and then try to sell me on all the rationale for why those reasons don't matter.
My fiance wants a dog...he wants two dogs...big dogs... this came up in conversation early in our relationship. But if you have been following along, you might note why those negotiations are on hold...if not, see: change of job, moved to the country, etc. etc. We have had enough change in our lives right now and enough compromise, that the dog converstaion, while not abandoned, has been put on the back burner. I am fine with that. One thing at a time. It's still his dream though.
Also early on in our relationship I learned that this type of dog (much to my ignorance) is an "outside dog". Meaning, this dog does not live with us in the house. Me, being the non-dog lover, was stunned by this and all of a sudden became concerned about this dog -- "how can it survive outside?", "what if it rains?", "what happens when it gets cold?", and so forth, which made Josh laugh -- why would I care if I don't care about the dog, right? But in the city -- our dogs do not remain outside. They are pets. In the country, they are farm dogs and live outside, for the most part, in accommodations sometimes created. Read: sometimes. Otherwise, they just survive, including Josh telling me they never really get a bath. My response (as you can imagine) was "um, no, should we have a dog, we would be bathing our dog"
Now don't get me wrong -- this sweetened the deal a bit -- not having two large dogs in my house brightened the negotiations but alas, I was still not convinced.
Everyone in the country who has a dog, has it roaming around outside. I am not sure how these dogs stay on the property -- but Josh says you train them, or they eventually come home. However, I literally had a mini heart attack the other day when we were driving home. Josh and his dad were in the truck in front of me, in the dark, and I was following in my car. We drive past a neighbor's house and I am looking at it casually, when all of a sudden, their dog barks and is running alongside my car on the driver's side while I drive. OMG! I about died...another "life is different around here" moment.
Bailey...this friendly little dog (it's a big dog, for the record)...just didn't know my car yet, Josh said. Ummm...okay. She didn't follow me far, but I think it's crazy that your "family" pet is running alongside the road -- what a way to get hurt. It seems really hard for me to grasp. Especially when I do not like arriving at someone's house to find a large dog greeting me. It reminds me of "Overboard" -- anyone remember that movie? Yeah, barking dogs greeting you at the car...awesome...
More than being an annoyance, it scares me. I don't want to be responsible for hitting someone's dog on the road. Because, friends, Bailey has not been the only dog I have seen running around. Josh's friend, Sean, has it figured out -- the electric fence...the dog comes running but then stops at the edge of the yard. Genius. Let's all get that figured out so I don't have another mini heart attack... or maybe we should just let the dog inside?! I am not sure -- it's all perplexing to me, which is one of many reasons we are not embarcing the idea of a dog yet. I need to figure this out!
My fiance wants a dog...he wants two dogs...big dogs... this came up in conversation early in our relationship. But if you have been following along, you might note why those negotiations are on hold...if not, see: change of job, moved to the country, etc. etc. We have had enough change in our lives right now and enough compromise, that the dog converstaion, while not abandoned, has been put on the back burner. I am fine with that. One thing at a time. It's still his dream though.
Also early on in our relationship I learned that this type of dog (much to my ignorance) is an "outside dog". Meaning, this dog does not live with us in the house. Me, being the non-dog lover, was stunned by this and all of a sudden became concerned about this dog -- "how can it survive outside?", "what if it rains?", "what happens when it gets cold?", and so forth, which made Josh laugh -- why would I care if I don't care about the dog, right? But in the city -- our dogs do not remain outside. They are pets. In the country, they are farm dogs and live outside, for the most part, in accommodations sometimes created. Read: sometimes. Otherwise, they just survive, including Josh telling me they never really get a bath. My response (as you can imagine) was "um, no, should we have a dog, we would be bathing our dog"
Now don't get me wrong -- this sweetened the deal a bit -- not having two large dogs in my house brightened the negotiations but alas, I was still not convinced.
Everyone in the country who has a dog, has it roaming around outside. I am not sure how these dogs stay on the property -- but Josh says you train them, or they eventually come home. However, I literally had a mini heart attack the other day when we were driving home. Josh and his dad were in the truck in front of me, in the dark, and I was following in my car. We drive past a neighbor's house and I am looking at it casually, when all of a sudden, their dog barks and is running alongside my car on the driver's side while I drive. OMG! I about died...another "life is different around here" moment.
Bailey...this friendly little dog (it's a big dog, for the record)...just didn't know my car yet, Josh said. Ummm...okay. She didn't follow me far, but I think it's crazy that your "family" pet is running alongside the road -- what a way to get hurt. It seems really hard for me to grasp. Especially when I do not like arriving at someone's house to find a large dog greeting me. It reminds me of "Overboard" -- anyone remember that movie? Yeah, barking dogs greeting you at the car...awesome...
More than being an annoyance, it scares me. I don't want to be responsible for hitting someone's dog on the road. Because, friends, Bailey has not been the only dog I have seen running around. Josh's friend, Sean, has it figured out -- the electric fence...the dog comes running but then stops at the edge of the yard. Genius. Let's all get that figured out so I don't have another mini heart attack... or maybe we should just let the dog inside?! I am not sure -- it's all perplexing to me, which is one of many reasons we are not embarcing the idea of a dog yet. I need to figure this out!
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