When I talked to my grandma this weekend, she said, "Well, it sounds like you're having a big week." A big week indeed.
Last Monday morning, I woke up as usual to breakfast in bed (yes, I'm aware that I have pretty much the greatest husband on earth), and Andrew said to me, "You need to see the backyard." He raised the shades in our bedroom, and I looked out at what looked a like a driving range where a drunken golfer had gone to town with a seven-iron. There were divots everywhere - no tunnels, so we ruled out moles. I posted photos on Facebook, and we called our parents, and folks offered us solutions from a band of squirrels, an alien landing, and even one pretty informed (from an ecologist) suggestion that we might have a reckless moose on our hands.
The mystery was solved Tuesday night when I decided to stake out our back porch by flipping the light on. A large, ambling, cat-like creature streaked by. Unless it was a very large skunk, it seems our culprit was a raccoon.
Though everyone we've told about our digging friend urged us to get a live trap (so great, we'd have a LIVE angry raccoon?), I think the problem has been solved for now by a combination of frost and turning our porch light on at night. It's not energy efficient, but the grass thanks us.
The next big exciting thing in our week was planning for our weekend. We were invited to a Halloween party and potluck out on a farm about 40 mins away, and since I got my first paycheck, I also wanted to do just a bit of shopping to celebrate. And, to make our day more complicated, I also wanted to go to a pumpkin patch/apple orchard because it's fun and we don't have any free weekends left until November. Andrew and I knew it would be a packed weekend, but we've both been really stressed at work, so we figured it was worth it if we could unwind and have some fun.
On Thursday afternoon, Andrew and I finalized plans for our Halloween costumes. I got the "Eight is Too Much" wig (tipped off by a student who works at Spencer's - a place I hadn't been in about 10 years) and on Friday, I spent my evening figuring out items for a potluck and trying to find stickers that Andrew could wear as bling earrings. He'd already gotten a fake Ed Hardy shirt (actually inspired by Miami Ink, another TLC show) earlier in the day. We thought our Jon and Kate costumes were going to get a big reaction and were pretty proud of ourselves.
Because I'm a Friday night football widow in the fall, my custom is to use Friday night to catch up with my girlfriends who also happen to be stuck at home (but lucky for them, they have cable and can watch What Not to Wear and Say Yes to the Dress, so it's less pathetic). While running around in Target, I was chatting away with one of my close friends from high school, and I asked her what she thought I should take to the potluck. I didn't want to take dessert, so she suggested corn bread. I said that was perfect. Then she suggested adding a can of jalepenos to the batter. At first, I thought that was a bit much, but then she gave me the hard sell, and I trooped over to the Mexican food aisle and picked up two cans - my friend had suggested a can per box of cornbread, but since I wasn't too sure about this venture, I just grabbed two of the teensy jalepeno cans and headed to the checkout lane.
When I got home, I went straight to the mixer and made a vat of jalepeno corn bread. I was a little concerned when I could smell the heat coming off the batter. I was more concerned, after I made 36 corn bread muffins, when I tasted one. I'd made burn-your-face-off cornbread. At this point, it was midnight, and I wasn't about to go to Walmart or any other 24 hour establishment and I had no interest in making new cornbread. This was it. Andrew came home at 1am and deemed them fantastic, but keep in mind, this is the guy who had just lost the Dueling Marinades for having the world's spiciest chicken.
On Saturday morning, we woke up at 9am (we'd planned on 8) and rolled to the oil change place by 10:30...a bit after our ETA. We arrived at our destination (which was a nearby college town) around noon and went to lunch at a restaurant I found on TripAdvisor.com. It was heavenly - and a fun eating experience. The restaurant had an open kitchen, so you could watch the whole preparation of the meal, and for pseudo-foodies like us, that's just icing on the cake....or homemade caramel on the apple bread pudding with basalmic icecream, since that's what we ordered. Then we headed to the outlet stores, where I added to my ridiculous collection of Coach purses (yes, I know it's sick) and Andrew got blue striped shirt, because he doesn't have enough of those.
And then, Joann (what we named the lady on the GPS) led us out to the country and we came upon the apple orchard/pumpkin patch. Between the moments where we thought we might die, it was really fun. When we first stopped in the main building, we picked up a basket and asked the high school chickie what protocol was. She pointed us to the ripe areas and then implored us to try whatever apples we wanted. She must have seen our faces light up, because she quickly added, "Within reason. Please don't gorge yourself!" I think I ate 6 apples before we left the area, and we wound up with more apples than is really reasonable for two people to eat, but isn't that the point? Next, since we had a basket full of apples, we decided to hop on the tractor ride so we could take the public transportation option to the pumpkin patch.
Maybe it's something about the Midwest, where people think children are indestructible, but we were a little shocked when a woman (wearing open-toed leopard flats - not really appropriate for the apple orchard) saw that the tractor was full, and then started loading her four children, all under about six, on to the rail of the tractor. An orchard worker told her that no, only adults could sit on the rail, and she said, "Right, I was going to hold them." You were...what? Being compassionate (and incredulous) people, Andrew and I gave up our seats, and sat on the rickety rail (all while muttering things about "teaching moments about waiting are great for children" - yes, we are old and curmudgeony as well). After some protest by the parents around her, the crazy lady with open-toed leopard flats hopped on to the rail, holding her baby in its carrier thingie (note: Parent readers, please forgive me for not knowing what those are really called. I'm sure Andrew and I will catch on to this lingo eventually). I would have been fine with sitting on the rail, but since we were packed in, I had nowhere to hold on to, so the only thing holding me on was my balance, and if I leaned forward, I was facing a line of four year olds. Terrifying. Then add to the terror that the terrain was not flat nor smooth, we needed to duck for tree branches, and part of the ride was sliding down a muddy patch into a creek (at which point I cracked jokes about fording the river and having your oxen die, though I never actually played Oregon Trail as a kid). Around this point, the child in front of me pulled off her hat and was being admonished by her mother. I wasn't really paying attention, but the mother said to me, "Have your children discovered their hair and the scissors yet?" I was incredibly embarrassed when I responded that no, I don't have children, but then I realized the poor woman was more embarrassed than me when I saw the fabulous mullet the child had given herself. I realize that every child does this, but silently, I thanked my mother for discovering me (and taking me to a salon) before I got to the point this poor kid did.
When the driver stopped for the pumpkin patch, we bailed and waved goodbye to the overflowing tractor wagon full of babies and their apparently very fertile parents (there literally wasn't a family on there with less than three kids).
And before us, the pumpkin patch loomed. We dug in, and within 15 minutes, we'd found our pumpkins (mine has a twisty stem, which I love) and were relieved when the tractor came back around less than half full. We left the pumpkin patch/apple orchard with warm apple cider, hot "turnovers" (the gourmet version of the McD's apple pies - freaking heaven. I will dream about that flaky crust for the rest of October), two pumpkins, and about a dozen apples.
Then it was off to the Halloween party. Since this is a very long post and I'm getting a little exhausted, we'll just go with the highlights:
-Our host, an interior designer, was dressed as a goth chick. It was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time.
-Her daughter was a loofa. I will SO be re-creating this costume; it was genius.
-Our costumes were not exactly understood. They thought Andrew dresses like a pretty boy (and likes stick on earrings?) and thought I was going as a blonde with a bad haircut. Sad.
-Food at Midwestern potlucks is the best food on earth. Hands down.
-Andrew doesn't know how to play Scattergories. It's ok, he learned quickly.
-It was a really fun time.
On Sunday, it was back to Sunday school, and then we wrapped up our week with our first monthly "Financial Meeting," which we capped off with a fire in the firepit in the backyard and roasted marshmallows, not before I learned how to make German red cabbage as a side for dinner.
It was a really good week. A big week, but a good one.
