The continuing adventures of Lori in the mud...

Sorry, it's been an awful long time since I've last written. I've been playing this totally addictive and maddening game over at Facebook. If anyone sends you a Packrat invite, run! Run like the wind!

No, I have no self-control. At this point, I thought that was evident.

So anyway, in addition to playing Packrat, I've been playing in the mud, getting caught up on school stuff, and casting on a new knitting project (socks, at long last!) Oh, and doing my usual cooking, cleaning, teaching, keeping Dave from killing himself and others...

Last week I had a big adventure. Here's the story:

At Curves, there is a lady in her mid 70's. Hazel is as tough as nails, very strong for any age, much less mid-70's. I've known her for 4 or 5 years, through Curves. Anyway, Hazel's husband is a farmer and she's always talking about doing this, that, or the other out at the farm. One of the things she's talked about over the years that's intrigued me is picking asparagus. All I'd know is she'd bring me this monster sack of asparagus in the spring.

On Friday, Friend Husband was staying home with the children so that I could get done that which I did not get done while he was in Chicago. I'd already told him that I was going to Hazel's house (which is not located on the farm) to get some perennials that she wanted to give me. He knew that I wasn't coming right home after Curves. Hazel and I were working out and talking about my coming over and getting perennials and she said, "Well, I won't be home for a while. I have to go pick asparagus this morning." Here I was, with a bit of extra time and a big hankering to pick asparagus on the very day that Hazel was headed out there. So I asked her if I could come. After an incredulous question or two, Hazel was convinced that, although I must be daft, I really wanted to come pick asparagus. Hey, I didn't even necessarily want some of it (although that would be a boon), I just wanted the experience of picking asparagus and seeing how the beds were set up and all. After working out, we set off.

On the way to pick up her daughter-in-law, Hazel opined that I might not want to wear my skirt (which is, in fact, my gardening skirt) to pick asparagus in as it would be "kind of muddy" out there. I just told her that I didn't wear pants in public and wouldn't think it would be too much fun to wear white sweat pants where it was "kind of muddy".

Hazel's dil didn't seem too thrilled to see me, but I tried to be friendly and unobtrusive. We climbed into her truck and off we went to the farm, down a bunch of curvy rural roads. Finally, we pulled into the yard of a farmhouse. Literally into the yard of a farmhouse. Daughter-in-law headed off into what looked to me to be a big empty field with a clump of weeds in the middle of it. Turns out that the clump of weeds in the middle included the asparagus patch.

As I'm starting off into the field, I heard assorted shrieks of dismay. Carole (aka "dil") and Hazel had both lost their shoes in the mud and muck of what proved now to be a newly seeded corn field. Understand that we'd had a fair amount of rain and the ground had been well-tilled before planting. Imagine the sight. Stupidly, I thought that, since I'd seen it coming, I could attempt to retain my shoes on the muddy trek. What I had failed to take into account was the fact that I weigh more than the other two ladies. Not only did my shoes come off, but they were buried so deeply in the mud that I had to dig them out with my hands. Ha! Never make hasty, ill-advised judgments about other people. It isn't nice and it always comes back to bite you in the end.

Phooey...Friend Husband is unreasonably opining that I need to go help muck out the house. Guess the rest of "Lori's Muddy Adventures" will have to wait.