Stupid Cheese

I would like to know in which universe this cheese makes sense.

Long, skinny cheese is annoying.

If you want to eat it on a saltine cracker you need to cut a slice of cheese and then cut it in half and put both halves on the cracker.

If you want to make melty cheese bread you need to cut 47 pieces to fit width wise, and then cut 1/8th of one end off so it doesn't hang off the top edge.

If you want to cover a casserole dish, FORGETABBOUDIT. Because when you try to shred it, the pathetic, skinny block of cheese breaks and laughs in the face of your supper attempts.

Just chuck the whole block on top and call it extra protein.

On a related note, I also hate "marble" cheese.

It annoys me and I feel the need to share this annoyance with the world. You're welcome.

Closure

The best thing about funerals is the egg salad sandwiches. 

I was at my uncle's funeral a few weeks ago and the luncheon afterwards was catered by my aunt's restaurant. It was fine, but it just wasn't the same as having the classic funeral luncheon with open-faced buns made by all the church ladies.

I don't even LIKE egg salad sandwiches but ever since the luncheon I have been thinking about them. So when I was grocery shopping today and saw a pre-made one in the cooler, I stopped to think.

I was just at the dentist getting a filling, so I needed something soft to eat.... it was 11:30 and the smart thing to do is eat... I hate egg salad but this looked delicious.... but what if they didn't use enough mustard powder...omg it's almost $5 this is insane what are you thinking.... BUY THE DAMN SANDWICH STIINA....!!!

So I bought it. And ate every last bit in the car.

Aaaahhhh. Bliss. Tastes like funeral. 😍😍

Spinsanity

So today I went to a spin class with my sister.

I have never been to a spin class before.

Turns out it is exactly like the TV spin classes (this shot captured from the remarkably bizarre Netflix show The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt).

The dim, zen-space room. The little white towels. The fake candles. The encouraging welcome and help with setting up your bike. But then.....they turn on pumping music and disco lights (seriously). The instructor in this class even had a headset microphone!

My butt was sore the instant I sat on the bike. 😂 These bikes are so fancy that you actually need to balance on them and you can lean from side to side into "turns". Pretty amazing workout if you can quit giggling because you feel like you're in a sitcom.

First she took us through a warm up, getting us used to the bikes and explained how to turn and balance. She told us about the little button to press to get the display to light up, showing us our RPM.

She took us through an "open road" sequence where we rode hard and fast. Then she took us "up a mountain" by increasing the resistance on our bikes...when we got to the top, she had us decrease the resistance and encouraged us to pedal as fast as we could.

She cited 140 RPM which concerned me as I was up to 108 RPM and kept checking my thighs to ensure they weren't starting a friction fire.

While we were doing this, she shouted at us "You are free!!! Pedal as fast as you can because you are completely free, whipping down this mountain! Free!"

Right. With these special shoes, clipped solidly into the pedals of this stationary bike. Feels free all right. 😄

I'm feeling like that was a great little progression and a nice way to end the class. Pretty proud of myself for keeping up (consistently about 30 RPM under her recommendations but that's pretty fantastic in my opinion) and feeling the happy-tired-sore workout vibes.

Turns out that was just the end of the warm-up. 😱

O
M
G

These spinsters are crazy, folks. I'm happy to report I kept my consistency and made it to the end without starting any fires. I enjoyed it overall but I admit that I was relieved when she said we were done.  The music transitioned, slowing down, to bring us to a zen state with the babbling brook,  tinkly chimes and exotic birds chirping encouragingly.

I was serenaded by the satisfying clicks of the shoes coming off of the pedals and the sound of pathetic squirts from the spray bottles of cleaning solution that everyone used to wipe their sweat off of the bikes.

NOW I feel free, except my legs are so wobbly and my butt is so sore, that I don't think I can go very far.

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

(PS I actually did quite enjoy it. It was a half hour spin class and there was a 1-hour yin yoga flow afterwards which was really lovely. If you are interested it is at Breathe studio in University Heights [Saskatoon] and they have drop-ins!)

Awkward Salutations

You're at a restaurant. The server brings out your meal and says "enjoy your supper!" You say, "Thanks, you too!" and there's a weird moment where everyone knows what you said was stupid but nobody says anything. And then everyone pretends it didn't happen.

Humans are extraordinarily brilliant and confoundingly stupid at the same time.

I love it.

How To Find Anything In A Small Prairie Town

I recently attended a craft sale in rural Saskatchewan. I had never been to this town before, but I realized that I still knew exactly where to go.

This is because every rural Saskatchewan town is the same.

The road closest to the highway is always called "Railway Avenue" (or street, depending on the direction it goes).

On Railway Avenue you will find a railway (or remains of a railway that's been decommissioned), and a grain elevator (or theremains of a grain elevator that's been torn down).

As you drive along Railway Avenue, you will see a Hotel on the corner of a street. This is a code word for "Beer and Old Country Music".  The Hotel will never have anyone staying in it, but the bar has its regulars.

The Hotel is always on Main Street. If the town founders fancied the town to be upscale, this may be called Central Street.

On Main Street you will find a bank (always a Credit Union), the post office, the town hall, a small restaurant (probably an ancient Asian couple serving hamburgers and ginger beef, with buffets on Sunday), and possibly a grocery store. If you're lucky, this grocery store is still a mom'n'pop operation but unfortunately most of the towns have a Co-Op store now.

Now. If you need to find someone's *house* in a small town, and not just something on Main Street, that's easy too. There's fewer than 10 blocks in any direction so you can just drive around for 6 or 7 minutes till you find it.

Or you could stop to ask someone, "Could you tell me where to find Victoria Avenue? I'm looking for Millie Martens", but the answer you get may not be helpful. It will sound something like this. "Oooooh yes Millie! Dang it she makes a good Saskatoon berry pie. At the last fowl supper they had one in an auction...ahhem! ah yes. You want to find her place, eh? Well you gotta turn down there where the Elks hall usedta be before it burnt down in '75. Then you'll see that big ole house that Ole Man Hawkins usedta live in, and she's right across the street from there. Tell 'er I say hi!"

Good luck.

Disclaimer: If your small town has a gas station, hospital, or school...it is too big and will not follow this template.

You're welcome.

PSA: Ford Explorer Electrical Glitch

My 2003 Ford Explorer has a mischevious electrical gremlin inside and sometimes won't start.

The Ford technician gave me this genius tip. Sit in your truck, holding the keys in your hand. Press the Lock and Unlock buttons on the keyfob, three times in quick succession. Immediately after that, press the Lock/Unlock  buttons on the truck door three times in quick succession.

Put the keys in, start the truck, and grin like a fool. :)

This is kind of "reset code" for this model of truck.

 I hope my blog shows up on Google searches because we have had many vehicle problems solved by searching Google - maybe this post can help someone else.

Housecleaning Grace

Last week we were storm-stayed at a neighbours' house. We clomped into their porch, 4 cold people, and the storm was so bad we ended up staying there a full 24 hours. The next day another neighbour with a snowmobile came to get my husband, who went home to get the tractor and dig us out.

While we were there, the lady kept apologizing for the state of her house. It got me thinking - why do we always do this? "Oh, so sorry for the mess..."

This accomplishes nothing. If your house is messier than mine, I feel uncomfortable and I don't know what to say. "You're right - your house is disgusting and I wish you weren't such a lazy toad!"

If your house is neater than mine, it makes me feel like a lazy toad. 

How about we just give each other some grace and stop judging? 

I have two dear friends locally that I am so glad to have - when I go to their house and I notice dog hair under the bookcase or slimy banana goo  on the cupboard door (about toddler-height), it's comforting. Their houses are sometimes dirty, too. And I'm not afraid to pick up the broom or washcloth and do a quick once-over. They know I'm not judging them: just helping them catch up with things that need to be done. Next time they're at my place, I won't waste time hoping that they don't notice the strawberry stains on the floor or the fingerprints on my oven, because I know they have them, too.

When someone drops in for an unexpected visit on our ranch, I won't apologize for the state of my house. And I don't think you need to, either.

I *will*, however, do a quick once-over to make sure my bra isn't still hanging to dry in the living room, and I'll try to get pants on my kids before I serve you coffee.