…but it has all the things I like!

This week I finally tried a KFC Doubledown sandwich. (I know, I know…way behind the rest of the world) For those who don’t know…it’s a breadless sandwich of bacon, two kinds of cheese, some sauce stuff all in between two pieces of chicken. I thought, hey, I like chicken. I like cheese. I like bacon. I’m not adversely opposed to sauce stuff. This can’t be that bad, right?

Wrong, people. It is that bad. It’s worse than ‘that bad’. If you asked ‘that bad’ to eat this sandwich it would laugh at you and then punch you in the face.

I opted for the grilled version (mostly because I’m not a huge fan of fried chicken) and the first thing I noticed was that cheese or sauce or bacon grease or sadness had leaked out of the box and into the bag. Then it apparently ate through the bottom of the bag and pooled onto the table. Thankfully I caught it in time before it ate a whole through the table, and really, that should have been enough of a warning to keep me from ingesting the meal. A train full of bacon and cheese and chicken can’t be stopped so I went ahead and started eating. Or at least tried. The great thing about bread, besides being the place you put mustard and containing a portion of your daily fiber is that it is great for holding. Bread is the like police for your sandwich, holding it all together until it gets into your mouth…and that analogy makes me look at the justice system in an entirely new light…but you know what I mean. Bread = food handles. It was pretty impossible to figure out how to hold this thing. Grilled chicken fillets are naturally a bit slippery and once you add melted cheese and whatever that sauce was made from there really was no chance this was getting to my mouth in any sort of dignified manner.

Armed with a handful of napkins and a fork, I finally got my first bite of doubledown-ness. I think the best word to describe the taste was “full”. Yup, my mouth was full, full of chicken, full of bacon, full of cheese, full of secret sauce. You’d think that being that full of that many things, my mouth would be experiencing some sort of flavor explosion. Nope. Not even a tiny flavor firecracker. It was just…full. The chicken was dry and what chickeny taste there would have been was overwhelmed by the cheese and sauce. The bacon had the same problem, I didn’t really taste it at all. In fact the strongest taste was that of the secret sauce…and it wasn’t a good taste. I’m not sure what the secret sauce was made of, but as far as I’m concerned it can stay a secret.

It’s a sad thing but a combination of things that you love turn out so very wrong. Like when you find yourself sitting in a movie theater and thinking that space battles and Ewan McGregor should really be more exciting, or that a song with a cartoon cat and Paula Abdul shouldn’t make you this uncomfortable, or a book about vampires, werewolves and special powers that still manages to be incredibly dull. Individually, all these things are high on the awesome scale, yet someone has managed to merge them together in a way that drains all the goodness right out. It’s like a horrible kind of sorcery. One that I will be avoiding by eating my foods separately for a while…like God intended.

Cousins, Canadians and Cyclones

Day two of my pop-free week started with foot cramps. Despite several people testifying to the opposite, I completely believe that lack of carbonated sugary beverages leads to foot cramps. Expect to see my paper in a medical journal near you.

Went to Aunt Stella’s this morning to spend time with her and Steff, which was fun and then Steff and I headed out to find breakfast and wifi at the local Tim Hortons. I’ve usually use the drive through at that “nice Timothy Horton’s” so it was neat to see the inside. It was also a bit torturous since it’s a combination Cold Stone Creamery. Seeing waffle bowls and ice cream cakes that early in the morning should be a crime. But I happily had a pumpkin spice donut instead which was delicious.

(It has also reminded me that fall is on its way out and I need to get myself to Uncle John’s Cider Mill for donuts and cider before it closes for the season!)

Talking with Steff is one of those situations where my brain always has a freak out at the beginning. She’s a cousin but older enough in age that we didn’t spend a lot of time hanging out together as kids. To me, she was always one of the ‘big kids’. As we’ve both grown up, we’ve found the things that we have in common and the skewed sense of humor that most of my family shares. I really enjoy spending time with her and being her friend…but I still have that little pause where the 6 year old me says “ooooh, I’m hanging out with a big kid!”

After breakfast we went back to Aunt Stella’s, chatted, looked at pictures, shopped for cookbooks, and then Steff headed out back to Iowa and I headed home. It had been windy all morning and started raining about an hour ago but I hadn’t paid much attention to the weather at all. The moment I stepped foot into the house the tornado siren started blaring. I asked my stepdad what it was about and he just brushed it off and went back to playing on the computer (if there is ever a natural disaster…they will find my stepdad under the rubble in front of a game of Bedazzled) so I turned on the TV and sure enough there was the weatherman pointing out rotating clouds. Normally this would be the time that I would grab essentials and head for the basement but instead I just sat dumbly on the couch and tried to catch up.

I blame that as well on the lack of pop. Between the foot cramps and the inclement weather, I may not make it a week.

Carrying the banner

Watching Newsies this afternoon and I still know every lyric and line. This movie came out in 1992 when I was 12 years old and my sister was 9. We had been thoroughly trained to love all things musical and this had the added benefit of kids. (I can’t remember if we were interested in cute boys at the time or not.) We watched and watched and watched till our VHS tape got all wobbly.

Then we started dancing. We trooped to the basement, set up milk crates and chairs and brooms and proceeded to re-choreograph every song. I mean, the dancing in the movie was awesome, but we were only two kids so we needed to retool everything to our limited troupe size…also our limited dance abilities. This was before the age of mp3 players or laptops with DVD players so we worked hard to memorize the lyrics, music and moves before we’d head downstairs to make up something new. I have no idea what we did, although I remember almost twisting my ankle while trying to step on a chair and tip it back. Don’t think I ever got the hang of that move actually.

Sure it’s a silly movie, but it’s much more than that to me. It’s sitting hip-to-hip with my sister in front of the tv, in easy reach of the rewind button on the VCR. It’s talking in bad New York accents while playing in the backyards of Michigan. It’s jumping on milk crates while trying to make sure we didn’t hit our heads in the basement, grabbing arms and twirling around while singing about newspaper strikes. And since we’ve spent the last half hour text messaging the lyrics to each other…it’s still a connection between the two of us.

In Soviet Russia…

The queen of procrastination is busy at work tonight trying to finish a birthday present for a birthday that ends in 1 hour and 38 minutes. Yeah.

In addition to sewing like a madwoman, I’m also working in the spare room/sewing room of the house which is drafty. I’m wearing gloves, a hat and my feet are curled under spare fabric. I’m also chugging caffeine from a chipped snowman mug I found in yard sale leftovers. This whole setup is giving me images of working in a sweatshop or being a little old lady tailor in a foreign country.

I wonder if I would work harder if there was someone over my shoulder demanding I sew faster in Russian. (which I can’t figure out how to say in Russian but in Tagalog (language of the Philippines) it’s “Bilisan” which is your helpful fact of the day.)

Arkansas Walk Pictures

 There is nothing like walking to get the feel of a country.  A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo. - Paul Scott Mowrer

Wednesday afternoon I found myself with free time so I decided to talk a walk outside. Despite the fact that Arkansas didn’t get the memo that it was October and needed to be nice and cool…it wasn’t as hot as I expected. There was a lovely breeze that made my walk very pleasant. I happily traversed the gravel road, exploring a new and different landscape. I also did a lot of jumping around as there were huge bugs that kept flying up at me. We joked later that it was a blessing that no cars ever drove on that road because surely someone would think I had epilepsy with all my jerking around.

  

Clockwise – Rice from the field still in the hull (so cool!), an abandoned knife blade, empty shells that littered the road, prints from a dog in the mud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The swing at Bobby and Becky’s, tractor trail to a nearby rice field. Below is a creek at the edge of a field, and a long shot of the gravel road I was walking.

Randolph County Heritage Museum

Really a very cool little museum right behind the old courthouse in the main square of downtown Pocahontas. It felt like you were sifting through the contents of someone’s attic. A hodgepodge of history all thrown together. My only complaint was that there seemed to be a lot of things just displayed without a lot of information. I wanted to know more about certain items but there really wasn’t any info or anyone there to help. But beyond that little nitpick, I really enjoyed the visit.

The most interesting part was a little side room that had historical medical tools. It was not only interesting because of the items, they also had a local connection. The first x-ray machine in the county, exam table of a local doctor, Aunt Kate’s optometrist equipment. It was my favorite part of the museum by far!

Arkansas photos

 

Just crossing the border into Arkansas on our way to Pocahontas.

Cotton fields! Found between Sikeston and Dexter in Missouri. We pulled off the highway to get a picture of this field! There were fields later on that had even more cotton but there was too much traffic to stop.

 

Burning the rice fields. I was pretty sure the fires we saw all over were horrible disaster, but apparently they always burn off the fields after they harvest the rice. Such a surreal image.

 

The dirt road in Heelstring. Took an hour walk one afternoon and never saw a single car. The Shiloh church at the graveyard where family is buried.  The church was built in the 30’s. 

A rice field after burning.

Home sweet home!

Thank you so much for following along with me on this trip! See (some of) you soon!

Michigan is 20% cooler now that we've crossed the border! Lansing is only a few miles away!

Attn Becca: we have gotten rest stop ice cream!

We've decided that we need walkie talkies for road trips from now. We also decided that I will be Smokey and she will be The Bandit.

Sanity restored! We have entered the easttern time zone - the right time zone!

Looks like we are about six hours from home as of now.

We have arrived in Indiana and we are both tired enough that we decided to pull off the road a bit. Safety is our middle name!

Not really...that would be weird.

Wakeupwakeupwakeup!

Stopping in Salem for emergency caffeine so I dont sleep at the wheel.

We are stopping for breakfast at bob evans so we can wake up. And eat biscuits and gravy! We are in carbondale, I think.