"Preparation is nine tenths of the law..." or something like that...

Yes, in a couple of weeks its that time of year again for us...

FORESTRY MEETING ROADTRIP!!

im sure I will have some pretty awesome scary adventures to share with you  too

but in the meanwhile,

while im working on the latest "only 609 photos left" wedding post...

how about a repeat post from 2011's Mandatory Forestry meeting road trip to get us in the  mood?

Fair ole' time in the Big City...

Horrific warning ahead

This past month has been crazy travel for us ~ although it definitely distracts from the fact that winter is still hanging around like an unwanted tomcat who wont stop marking in your flowerbeds ;  no matter how much you want it to go away,  you know you have to take evasive action to make it better. 

Winter = tomcat =  pretty to look at + but does bad things = gets old pretty fast…

Snowmobiles

Everywhere.

We started out a little over two weeks ago on a long truck ride to our annual Forestry meetings in Wisconsin.  I look forward to these meetings as theres nothing like having 200 Foresters in a room who are used to working alone in the woods – I think it would make a great socio-documentary on anthropologic needs within a working community, but since I have been sworn to secrecy by Mr. Foresterman I cant divulge any more on the meetings except they had excellent donuts and there was never a line for the ladies restroom.

The main objective for this trip was one week together in Wisconsin to work, and then we were to split our separate ways ~ I was to drive back to our home & office  in Montana, and Mr. Foresterman was to stay behind to do field exams on landowner properties.

Now for the rest of the story.  I did hesitate about writing on the following true incident but I always have been of the mindset of  “if I cant be a healthy example then I shall be a horrific warning". I take this to heart so please note this ~


 DISCLAIMER: "If you no longer respect me after reading this and decide not to follow this blog, please consider passing on the information of its horrific warning - it could save someone unnecessary grief somewhere "

After all, I am still working on forgiving myself for things I did in 8^th grade – at least that’s one grade up from last years therapy (7^th grade was a rough year- we lost the Nuns that year…another story another time…I digress).  As the following true story unfolds here, you can see I have a ways to go…pray for me.

During this time we were on the road, I picked up a sniffle sinus pain thing somewhere…I still think it was from the meeting of the Foresters where we were shaking hands continuously practicing social skills…But this little sinus pain thing wasn’t going to prevent us from having our “ pre Valentine ‘til we meet again dinner ”, no way! Mr. Foresterman wanted to make the evening special- and special it was.  

Entering the restaurant, you just knew it was to be a cuisine experience –a unique restaurant that specializes in Mexican Cuisine, one of my favorites.  The décor was tastefully done in an eclectic combination of Mediterranean - Old World style, with large armoires holding art of the culture, and an adobe lit fireplace that gave off a warm glow in the corner.  We were seated by our hostess right in front of this wonderful fireplace, candles illuminating the lovely place settings.  The chairs were designed so that they were almost like sofa chairs rather then a dining chair - low slung, plush, so that when you sat you sunk in a good way - this was the perfect place for us to unwind, rest, and eat  “a la Cocina Fresca” - Made fresh in the kitchen cuisine.  No pain sniffling sinus thing was going to prevent me from enjoying this experience with my Valentine honey!  Good thing I took lots of that cold medicine!

Our waitress arrived promptly, but my slowly fogging up medicine attention-deficit brain was diverted somewhere else - floating by our table was a tray carried by another waitress, filled with large fancy glasses of fruity drinks, bright shiny icy colors, promising hot bright summer in the midst of cold dull gray winter – MUST HAVE ONE!!!! my fuzzy brain rapidly repeated - forgetting entirely that I had just taken that cold medicine not an hour before,  unbeknownst to Mr. Foresterman.  You can see where this is going – as they say down South, “shes a trouble unto herself… Usually Mr. Foresterman can talk or bribe me out of bad health decisions if he knows beforehand, but unfortunately even staying with me 24/7 for an entire week cant top those skills in my "hiding evidence from Nuns"  behavior that was expertly sharpened by spending most of my young life  being taught by Nuns – if you can get anything past a “Sister”, then you have a well honed skill for life.  Really.  So  somewhere in that cold medicine 6 year old mentality-induced brain of mine, unbeknownst to poor Mr. Foresterman, this was what I configuring ~

“pretty glass+ mango = vitamin C + alcohol that kills germs = good for you.  YAY!"!

   

Lets review, shall we?

Hiding from Nuns life skill  +  Trouble unto herself =  horrific warning.

Okay then…moving on -

I think I saw the waitress raise an eyebrow at my enthusiastic “I’ll have a mango Mar gar reeee ta!”,  but kudos on her part for graciously replying to my drugged eager inner 6 year old child brain, “we’ll have them put a rim of sugar instead of salt on for you too, okay?”  I nodded rapidly, giddy at the thought of “SUGAR! MANGO! PREETTY GLASS! YAY!”   Mr. Foresterman winced slightly.  He never drinks. And I love that about him; always in control.  However I am not, only recently discovering that the word “moderation” does not just mean controlling your musical intense level on your banjo.  However, ours is a marriage of understanding; we both know I have issues about growing old and he has issues about growing young - I think he calls it "immaturity." Whatever. So anyhow, heres an example on how this is working out for us so far ; I am getting better at sitting down to discuss budgets when he can find me in my secret hiding spot, and he is getting better at remembering all the names of the judges on Americas next top Model  when prompted by me during a phone conversation with our college girls.  Im thinking by the time we are 99 and 93 respectfully, hopefully, we will be at a level playing field…ground level but level nonetheless. Now that’s true love! How romantic!

Anyhow, his ice water and my bright orange huge sugar rimmed mango-whispering  “sweet healthy summer is coming sweetheart” margarita came at the same time as our appetizer - fresh crushed avocado with Mexican spices served with warm fresh tortilla chips- OOOH! this was too good, the chunky sea salt on the fresh warm chips, sitting by the fire basking in the glow of my Husband’s love…although in hindsight I now realize that his intense loving gaze was actually a concerned fixation on the technique I was developing in drinking this tall large awkward shaped glass in my small hands. Somehow by the miracle of Saint Margaret-a I became more multi-tasked then I ever have been at age 6,  using my teeth to scrape off sweet crunchy sugar while slurping/chomping alcohol soaked mango, flinging lawn sprinkling bits of avocado & chips in an ever widening arc while talking animately with my free hand, chattering on about the excitement of the week, the lovely surroundings in a mostly one sided conversation that for reasons known now that I didn’t recognize then of its one-sideness… I was too busy... 

Last time I had hard alcohol was in 2006. And cold medicine an hour before.  Horrific warning, remember?

So then dinner arrived and not too soon for Mr. Foresterman, as he was now very concerned ; I had nearly emptied that huge glass on a near empty stomach - Did I forget to mention that I  hadnt eaten yet that day?  Yep, 6 year olds have nothing on me when it comes to total disregard for health check details. Yep.  Horrific warning.  Anyhow, Dinner was that kind of “ OOOH” wonderful, at least I remember repeating those words over and over, emphasis on”OOOH”.  For you who want sordid details Mr. Foresterman ordered a lovely blackened pepper steak and I ordered their special ~ Broiled Sea Bass, covered with a white cream sauce with scallops and lobster on a bed of rice... and Im pretty sure it was excellent because I must have requested a take home box at some point and time, which I found 3 days later in the back of the truck -  and It definitely was in the category of “OOOH! , but in a different way then I remembered ...  

During dinner I vaguely remember making a trip to the Senorita’s lavatory and being fascinated by the designs in the imported porcelain sinks… or I might have been staring at the fancy glazed dinner platters in their kitchen sinks, im not sure…Anyhow I made it eventually back to the table,  and this is where it really got interesting; there were two women arguing on who was going to sit next at our table after we finished.  I think a few waitresses were involved too.  I need some clarification from Mr. Foresterman when he gets home on that part. I do remember telling Mr. Foresterman that we better give our waitress better then a darn good tip because these two fancy dressed herd mares were ready to go at each other for OUR table by the fire,  a "wow, we must be real special to have deserved this table give the girl some money" kind of moment ... So while their husbands stood meekly by, there was this scary polite clenched teeth hissing of  “no, I believe that we INQUIRED on this PARTICULAR table first “ volleying back and forth while we chewed on in wide eyed rapt attention - it was memorizing, that gnashing of their perfect glistening white teeth by candlelight…But I do know in my hazy state I was very grateful that our stout Hostess was standing by with Benildo the burly Bartender, just in case, ready to boot and bodyblock purse slaps from Verace and Coach bags and those Jimmy Choo spike heel kicks just for us paying patrons. 

So of course I thought to myself “This place is great! “ ! 

And I would highly recommend this restaurant to anyone, if I could remember the name...or where it was at.

Since we were to go our separate ways the next day, we did make prior plans to go to the local grocery afterwards to stock up our Montana pantry while we could.   This actually was a great idea if you didn’t factor in what just transpired the last 2 hours at the restaurant.  But at this point I do believe the meal cleared my mind a little, or it could have been the sobering near-death “rumble with Prada purses” experience at the restaurant, im not sure, but I was ready to SHOP! At least I thought so.  This part I do remember because I love grocery carts – they have wheels and baskets and you can put food stuff in them.  At least now you can see where my mindset was at this particular moment –

 “cold medicine + mango margarita = 6 year old brain thoughts  =  loves shopping carts. YAY!  

Not good. Horrific warning ahead.

It was only after innocently dropping me off at the front entrance, did Mr Foresterman then have the sudden cold chilling epiphany of “what did I just do?!!?”  - it sunk in that he just abandoned a shopping deprived, lives in no-where land,  forestry meeting survivor, cold medicine + mango margarita induced sauced up woman  in a well stocked grocery mega store on a Friday night in a large city in politically-upheaved Wisconsin – 

“oh my Gosh!” he thought, “shoppers need to be protected!!”

He parked the truck as fast as he could, and darted in, only to find that this place was the warehouse of warehouses, rows upon rows of high towering shelves loaded with everything imaginable… and of course due to my life skills in Nun hiding I was no where to be found.  However, using his superior Forester skills, he frantically paced through the aisles until he found me by the sound of my voice; making friends with each person I met in each aisle.  Each person. Each aisle.  The saying “ she wasnt just friendly, she was lonely” applies here. All it would take was a glance in my direction and  you were my friend for life or that duration, or until you could make an excuse and briskly trot away with your cart – it didnt hurt my feelings any because’ “hey look, that nice lady over there  likes the same crackers as I do!!!”.  

Horrific warning ;  Don’t make eye contact in grocery stores, you don’t know where they have been.

So it was at this point for my own personal social skills safety and his reputation Mr. Foresterman decided he would fore go getting the food supply he needed for his work week and  just escort me around the store - somewhat akin to shepherding a friendly drugged homeless cat …with a shopping cart. But of course that didnt stop me, because now I had someone I could introduce to my new friends!! And that’s just how friendly I was...or lonely, depending on the person.  However, after the second ironic introduction to a tree trimmer and his wife, an exciting conversation about the Emerald Ash Borer (oh look, FORESTRY!  I know Forestry!”) and talk of beloved Montana to anyone who would listen, there was no one left in the store that I didn’t know, so we were reduced to lots of joyful hand waving to our new friends as we tossed massive amounts of items into our cart …

I woke up the next day with an awful headache and a crushed box of  “Annie’s bunny friends” organic cookies under my right leg in our hotel room bed. And it wasn’t until I got home and unpacked that I finally understood the total ramifications from that particular evening ~

That’s a lot of beans. 

...what the heck is quinoa?

Horrific.   warning.

~

post note:

I have learned to love quinoa.

especially
when someone else prepares it.


~