The Baggingly Challenged

Apparently, I expect too much. When I buy groceries, I assume they will be bagged in a logical manner, as I myself group foodstuffs when I bag my own at Save A Lot. Apparently, I expect too much.

I bought my Thanksgiving meal groceries at Country Mart on Friday. On the conveyor, I set out the products in groups that I thought would be bagged together. You know, I was doing the checker a favor, putting them in order.

The Checker Dude was training a new employee. Newbie looked like a teenager. He might have been 21 at most. He did not seem like the most absorbent sponge. A couple times, Checker Dude had to remind him to WATCH THIS, and SEE HERE. But all he was really doing was taking the rung-up groceries and putting them in bags.

Newbie must be one of those original thinkers. Not one to grab items as they were shoved his way, and put them in a bag. Nope. He needed to pick and choose. One thing from here, one thing from here... I was NOT HAPPY when I got my cart to T-Hoe, and started putting bags in his rear.

Normally, I'd have a bag or two of cold items that I could put in my soft-side St. Louis Cardinals zip-top cooler, and cover it with my coat. Which would also drape over any overflow cold-stuff bags leaned against that cooler. But no. That was not possible.

NEWBIE HAD PUT A COLD ITEM IN EACH BAG!

It was almost like he saw them as gift bags, and wanted each recipient to get a cold item. Farmer H was home to help me carry them in. Meaning HE carried them in. Except for me carrying a box from Save A Lot and two 6-packs of Diet Mountain Dew from garage to side porch.

I documented this bagging atrocity as I was putting things away:

 

Kerrygold ain't cheap! I think it was $3.49 a package. I get it for The Pony, because he's persnickety about his butter. There were only three packs left on the shelf, and I took two. They were perfectly pristine (as opposed to imperfectly pristine, heh, heh) when I put them on the conveyor. As you can see, now the corners are dog-eared, from being battered in that bag by 1.75 pounds of Cosmic Brownies, and two jars of olives. Neither of which needed to be kept cold.

 

I also bought regular salted butter for us peons. And a package of two pre-made pie crusts, in case I make some turkey pot pie with leftovers. But WHY did they need to be in a bag with two Stove Tops Stuffings, and two chocolate cake mixes (both on a 2-fer sale)? Don't say because they're in boxes. The Cosmic Brownies were in a box. They could have gone in here, and the cold Kerrygold and butter and pie crusts together. As I sent them down the conveyor.

 

You know what else would have fit in the cold bag? SOUR CREAM! Which I guess was relegated to this bag with mayo, cream of chicken soup, and black olives because it was round? 

Newbie has a long way to go in his training. I hope it will include bagging, but I have a feeling it won't.

If The Pony Can Just Plod Through One More Day...

Sweet Gummi Mary! I have been confused on how many days The Pony has worked without a day off. I have been counting the day off he was SUPPOSED to have, which got cancelled at 6:00 p.m. the night before. According to Farmer H, who is now an insider, privy (heh, heh) to information I don't get, because he TAKES LUNCH TO THE PONY... the last day off was November 2.

According to Farmer H, The Pony will be off Sunday. IF ONLY he can plod through Saturday without incident! Apparently, The Pony fell on Thursday, and skinned his hand. He didn't tell me. Just confided in Farmer H, his feedbag-strapper-onner. The Pony sends Farmer H a text, asking him to pick up Burger King for lunch. Then Farmer H takes it to wherever The Pony is at that time. He eats on his 10-minute break. And probably grabs a bite before getting out to deliver at the next few stops.

The Pony says his legs are so tired that he can barely stand in the shower in the morning. I say why does he need a shower, since he goes to bed right after a soaking bath in the big triangle tub in the master bathroom. At most, he might need to step in and wet down his unruly mane. Then get out! No need for a 30-minute shower when you're already clean! I'd think wetting your hair would suffice to wake you up.

The Pony has been asking the manager who schedules if he can have a day off. She says they are SO BUSY. The night manager overheard The Pony wishing for a day off, and said to call that day manager before coming to work on Friday. That, "It's ridiculous to work these hours when we have workers coming out of our ears." Okay. I'm pretty sure that's not the exact quote. I didn't write it down, but that was the gist of it. The Pony says they have so many that there are not enough vehicles, so there are several pairs that share one, and can't work until the vehicle is back.

Pony was NOT allowed the day off on Friday. Furthermore, somebody had lost or kept the key to his assigned vehicle, so he had to drive his car up to the repair garage near the Sis-Town Casey's, to get the spare key. THEN somebody had lost the key to the apartment complex mailbox unit that was first on his route. So he had to wait until they could find it. He didn't get off until 7:30. An 11.5 hour day. Making his total for the week 78.85 hours.

Good money. Bad legs.

At least The Pony was fortified with a Whopper, two orders of fries, a Sprite, and a Strawberry Shake. I'm pretty sure he walked off all those calories.

A Rousing Review

Somebody is trying to tell me something. 

On my not-so-secret blog, I had a comment. Not a real comment. One that should have gone straight to the 5PAM file.

"I really like the writing here, it's very special and doesn't seem to exist."

 

Sweet Gummi Mary! Somebody likes my writing.

BECAUSE IT DOESN'T SEEM TO EXIST!

 

That would make a great review for the back cover of one of my fake books! 

Yes. That would make a rousing review. Not to be confused with AN arousing review... 

Just like punctuation matters, so does spacing.

Farmer H Provides Dessert

When I made the pot of sausage, potatoes, and cabbage on Sunday, dessert was already waiting. Farmer H had picked it up at the auction on Saturday night. I didn't ask what he paid for it, but I'm thinking a dollar. Two at the most.

It was a plate of brownies, already sliced. They were sliced into triangle shapes, which is kind of odd for a brownie. Maybe it was baked in a round pan. Or maybe the cook was being all artsy-fartsy. Maybe the brownies were made by those girls whose wares Farmer H has bought previously.

Anyhoo... I made sure I picked out the least triangle-y brownie for myself:

 

It was in a smaller bowl than my main course. Wouldn't it be great to have such a giant brownie? Or maybe not. This brownie was good enough. It was truly a brownie, not a mud cake masquerading as a brownie. As you can see, I got the best piece! It's a corner!

Now, if I may critique... C'mon! You knew it was comin'! I think maybe the triangle shape was meant to represent a Christmas tree! See those little decoration Christmas trees on top of the brownie? And the red stocking? The white stuff is PEPPERMINT! That gets this brownie a thumbs-down from me. I like peppermint well enough alone. But not on a brownie.

At least I figured it out after the first bite, and picked the rest of it off. Only a little of the peppermint flavor lingered. I also warned The Pony, who was appreciative of the tip-off.

I can't wait to see what Farmer H brings home from the auction this weekend!

Of Cabbages And Rings

Since the snow flurries Friday night, and the colder temps over the weekend, I whipped up a big pot of sausage, potatoes, and cabbage. Mmm. So delicious! However... there was an anomaly with my cabbages! Both bought at Save A Lot on the same day, from the same bin. I always need a big cabbage and a little cabbage. Two large ones are too much, and two small ones are not enough.

The first cabbage I carved was the large one. I avoid the core, and slice off about half from one side. Then I again avoid the core, and slice off the about-half from the other side. That leaves me with a flat piece that has the core in the middle. I cut off the remaining small sides, and use the top part of the core area, where it's still leafy.

This was a very strange cabbage!

 

The whole cabbage was the consistency of the core! Very dense. One big core! The actual core area is at the bottom of the picture. Not that you can tell. I still cut it up, and pulled apart the dense layers to put in my pot. I left this disk, to see how much room I'd have in the pot with those hard pieces.

On to the small cabbage. Which had its own irregularities:

 

THIS cabbage was almost all leafy! Barely a core at all! Loose rings, not dense thick non-leaves. I cut it up and used the whole thing.

Even though I have a degree in biology, I am not well-versed in vegetable husbandry. Was one of my cabbages not ripe enough? Have scientists developed both core-less cabbages, and all-core cabbages? I don't care enough to consult my estranged BFF Google. All I know is...

THE RESULT WAS DELICIOUS!

 

This concoction contained sliced smoked sausage, sliced Polish kielbasa, and Little Smokies. My Smokie is broken in that photo! Also, golden potatoes, and the two cabbages. That's a corn muffin top balanced on the bowl for a photo op. I also ate the muffin stump, by crumbling it in the juices at the bottom of the bowl. 

We will be eating it for four days. The Pony had only meat and potatoes the first night, and declared that he would be picking up pizza for himself the next night. I'm surprised he even tried it.

Juno Is Leading A Double Life

My Sweet, Sweet Juno has turned out to be a riddle wrapped in an enigma stuffed in a Feeley Meeley box! She usually stays close to home. Close, meaning inside her house on the back porch next to the kitchen door, for about 12 hours a day, and then once it's dark, on the porch or in the front yard BARKING HER FOOL HEAD OFF.

Saturday, Juno did not run out of her house as I left for town. Jack was nowhere to be seen either. That's not uncommon. He gets around. Without Copper Jack coming over to be the glue that tears the threesome apart, I guess Jack and Juno had agreed to go their separate ways. I set my handful of fake meatball treats on the generator in the garage, to give them when I came home.

I had barely pulled out of the driveway and onto the gravel road when I saw Juno loping towards T-Hoe. She came from our down-the-road neighbor's field. The neighbor that Jack nipped on the heel when Farmer H was returning a piece that fell off the neighbor's tractor. Oh, well. Jack IS a heeler. The neighbor barely felt it through his boot. Jack DOES have that tiny dachshund mouth.

Anyhoo... Juno crossed the gravel, and ran along our BARn field. I put the window down and said, "See you later, alligator!" Which is what I say to her every single time I leave for town. She expects it. She doesn't eat her treat until I say it. Then she puts her head down to nosh.

When I came home, both dogs were there as normal. Both were there to see me off on Sunday. But Monday, only Jack came to get his going-away treat. I didn't see Juno until I came back home. She was standing under the big cedar tree near the carport. Maybe marking it with her scent for the next time Copper Jack comes back to assume his lounging space. When she saw me, she pranced over to the garage door. As it opened, she stuck her head under, then came back stand behind the other door where A-Cad lives.

I closed the garage door behind T-Hoe without incident. Jack was waiting for me by the front passenger tire. I picked up the two remaining treats from the generator, and gave one to each fleabag. Juno usually gets two, but too bad, so sad. That's what happens when you're gone at treat-dispensing time.

I hobbled up the four steps to the porch. Jack was still trying to chew up that treat that must have seemed like a giant jawbreaker to him. I always pick up two big meatballs, and one little one for Jack. Which he had eaten as I left.

Anyhoo... Juno was finished gobbling her meatball, and instead of flouncing around and maybe whacking her head on the metal chair or the wooden stair rail while feinting with Jack, she headed around the corner to her house. But FIRST...

JUNO GRABBED A BLOODY BLOB OF MEAT FROM THE PORCH!

When did she put THAT there??? She didn't have it in the yard or behind the garage. Maybe she had run to get it as I parked, and took it to the porch before standing just outside the people door for when I finished petting Jack and let him out.

It was BLOODY, I tell you! I didn't see fibers in the meat, like a steak. But it wasn't smooth like an organ. Just a bloody blob of meat. With a piece of sinew that attached it to a smaller blob of meat. Juno snatched it up and ran into her house. It left a blood stain on the porch boards.

When I handed out the adult lunchables for the coming-home treat, I saw that Juno had also left a bloody stain on the threshold of her house. I'm pretty sure I could see that bloody meat blob inside. I shook her salami, cheese, and Triscuits inside. 

I hope Juno ate that bloody blob of meat! I don't want to think of the stench that could arise. Or of her feet and belly fur soaking up that blood... I suppose she sniffed out a deer hunter's butchering area, and helped herself to a treat. It's so much easier on my mind when they just toss out a couple legs on the gravel road down by the mailboxes. I figure that's fair game, and Juno won't anger a hunter if she drags a leg home.

I will be very selective about where I pet Juno for the next couple of days.

Treats: Party Of Two

Copper Jack is missing. Probably not ACTUALLY missing. I think I can hear him barking from his home next door, where he usually never stays. Copper Jack has been missing from OUR YARD. Where he likes to lie under the big cedar tree near the carport. Or on the front porch if Juno doesn't get wind of him.

Copper Jack's disappearance was first noticed on Friday. I have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with deer season. Copper Jack is deer-colored. Every year at this time, he is confined to home. I think he is tied up so he can't roam freely and be accidentally shot. But I also think maybe his human daddy does not want to be followed by Copper Jack, and perhaps his buddy, my own speckled Jack, when he goes down in the woods to lie in wait for a passing deer.

When I got back from the store the other day, my loyal fleabags were waiting for me. More likely, they were waiting for their TREAT. Copper Jack usually gets one, too. He hangs out behind Juno's dog house, where she can't see him, and waits patiently for me to toss him something.

I had a heavy box that I left on the chair on the side porch, and a couple bags. The dogs know they don't get the treat until all my stuff is in the house.

My little Jack waits patiently by the kitchen door:

 

He's not that chunky! It's the camera adding pounds and subtracting inches! He just has his wide half-heeler chest, and his long half-dachshund body is camouflaged by the angle of the photo. Such a sweet little patient fellow.

Juno usually runs to her house to wait for me to toss a treat inside for her. When a deposit was not made fast enough, she thought Jack was getting something extra. So she had to investigate:

 

Jack took a step closer, but he's used to being shouldered out of the way by Juno. She's molted off most of her matted fur, except for a couple of tufts along her spine, and the feathery parts of her haunches and tail. I thought Juno was going to come right into the kitchen! She hardly ever crosses the threshold, even if called in for a tornado warning. Jack will trot in in a heartbeat if invited.

 

 

There's Juno, looking to make sure nobody gets in her house while her back is turned!

The gale force winds this past week have wreaked havoc with the drying leaves. There's a pile in front of Juno's house door. I need to sweep it, but more will blow back within the hour, and Juno has been digging stuff out of her door. I'd like to think she's doing a little fall cleaning, but I'm pretty sure she laid down on an antler in her collection, and was trying to get more comfortable. Farmer H needs to dump out her hoard again, and fill her house with fresh cedar shavings. They make her smell so sweet, sweet.

The absence of Copper Jack upsets the routine of Treat Time. However, all he is missing are Triscuit crackers. They come in an adult "Lunchable" kind of pack that Farmer H bought about 20 of at the auction a while back. He ate a couple, and lost interest. They have a stack of salami slices, a stack of white cheese slices, and Triscuits.

Jack and Juno enjoy the salami and cheese. The Triscuits, not so much. I'm sure Copper Jack would not be so finicky.