SUCCESS!

I am happy to report that I finally found canned pumpkin!

Wednesday on my lunch break in Nappanee I headed to Martin's (their very fancy grocery store).

They DID NOT have pumpkin.

And when I told the lady at the cash register what I was going through...she absolutely did not care.  She was polite, but she didn't care.

So I went to Rite Choice across the street.  It's a discount grocery so they carry odd items and don't give you a bag.  I walked to the pie filling section and needless to say there was no pumpkin to be found.  I had to walk down a differnet aisle to leave the store...and there, sitting all by itself on a bottom shelf (cue the heavens opening up and the angels singing) WAS A CASE OF CANNED PUMPKIN! 

It took all the willpower I posess not to grab that entire case and walk to the register.  But I didn't.  I very demurely picked up two large cans.

I wanted to tell the gentleman ringing up my purchase about my pumpkin story.  After all, I wanted to share my joy with the world.  But considering the disinterest of the previous cashier, I kept my victory to myself.

But the cupcakes...I shared the cupcakes.  But I made a double batch, so mostly they're just for me.

The Great Pumpkin Crisis

You know how sometimes you just get a hankering for something?  And you just MUST HAVE that something.  Nothing else will do.  No substitutes will satisfy.

Well for me that something tonight was a pumpkin cupcake - a beautiful pumpkin cupcake slathered with mountains of cream cheese frosting. 

It didn't begin this way, my obsession.  No it began as just a notion.  I needed to stop at the store on the way home from knitting at the church to pick up some milk.  I had sort of been craving said cupcake so I told Brian that since I had to stop at the store I'd pick up some canned pumpkin.  Nothing too serious at this point.  I wouldn't have stopped at the store just for the canned pumpkin after all.  But as I neared the store I began visualizing my cupcake, still warm from the oven and dripping with frosting, and I could almost taste it.  I found that I was driving a little faster, hastening towards the object of my desire. 

I stopped at the "little" Owens (grocery store by my house) to pick up my items.  I went to the baking aisle, no canned pumpkin.  Odd.  I went to the "canned fruit" aisle.  No pumpkin.  Seriously?  Back to the baking aisle, I must have just missed it.  Nope.  Back to canned fruits.  Rinse and repeat about three times.  Finally, irritated but not surprised (the "little" Owens is, well, smaller and therefore doesn't carry everything I need all the time) I decide it truly isn't there.  I wonder to myself if it's seasonal...but I notice they have boat loads of canned cranberry sauce and gel and chutney, and seriouly if anything is seasonal that should be it!  I briefly wait in line to ask the check-out clerk if they have it and I'm just not seeing it.  But the line was too long so I decide to pay for my items at the U-scan and run to Marsh for the pumpkin.  Already I had an unhealthy need for the pumpkin.

I go to Marsh, a large grocery store in town that I find sells a lot of interesting and oddball items along with the regular stuff.  They'll have the pumpkin for sure.  I find the pie fillings and NO CANNED PUMPKIN.  I see the place it should be on the shelf, three rows of it with the price tags on the shelf telling me this is where it belonged.  I stand in awed shock.  How can this be?  This is getting stupid ridiculous. 

Determined not to be bested by canned pumpkin, and convinced that my cupcake is going to taste that much better, I decide to drive all the way across town to the "big" Owens.  I frankly, think it is the best grocery store in town.  They will not let me down.  I phone Brian to tell him where I'm headed and warn him that if big Owens does not have the pumpkin someone is going to have to pay.  I don't know who, but they'll pay big.  I hit the baking aisle with confidence only to be greeted by a sign that reads, "We're sorry.  We are currently out of canned pumpkin."  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Is there some pumpkin crisis going on that I didn't know about?  Was there a hurricane that hit a large pumpkin crop thus rendering this pumpkin shortage?  Have the pumpkin crops of this world been struck by blight or pumpkin rot?  Are the local schools studying the merits of the pumpkin and every child in Warsaw has simultaneously decided to make a school project out of canned pumpkin?  Is it Korean Thanksgiving right now and the entire population of Koreans in the region is celebrating but have adopted the American tradition of pumpkin pie?  I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT'S HAPPENING!

I looked at the boxes of cake mixes for a minute, thinking I could just bake something else and it would be just as good and I would forget I ever wanted a pumpkin cupcake.  Right?  But I just didn't have it in me.  I called Brian on the way home and squeezed out in a pained voice, "it's not good - I can't talk about it," and hung up the phone.  Oh the humanity!

So, in the end, I did not have a pumpkin cupcake.  I was bested - defeated if you will.  My mom and I talked today about planting a garden together (because I do not have fertile soil in which to sew seeds) and she said I should think about what I'd like to plant.  I'll tell you Mom.  I'll tell you right now that we need to dedicate a large portion of your yard to a pumpkin patch so that I never have to go through this devastation again.  Noone should ever have to live without pumpkin.  And I'd like to see to it that noone does.

Will It Ever End?

And by "it" I mean, every awkward situation in the world I am left unprepared to deal with.  Thursday night Brian and I watched "I Love You Man."  Which, if you haven't seen it, is basically a story about a man who has no guy friends, decides he needs some, and then ensues a series of awkward exchanges in his attempt to procure friends that come so close to real life that I almost had to stop watching.  There was one point where the main character is leaving a phone message for his potential "friend" that was so extremely painful for me to listen to because it was as if I WAS LISTENING TO MYSELF EVERY SINGLE TIME I'M ON THE PHONE.  

The next day I head to the salon for my third haircut with the "hugger" who I have not had the heart to hair-cheat on.  It's better for me to keep getting haircuts that I'm not super stoked about than to have a potentially uncomfortable confrontation with this lovely young woman.  I tell her that I want a shorter cut this time, meaning a shorter bob.  She did not give me a bob, what she gave me is more like a Barry.  Whatever, the hair will grow out.  But I'm going to have to face this situation at some point.  Or, I'll just keep settling in order to be nice.  It'll probably be the latter.

As I stood at the counter waiting to pay, the pretty woman at the counter (and frankly I find the fashionable and lovely women at the counter intimidating) who is settling my bill asks, "you live at 413 W. Fort Wayne?"  I think she is simply confirming my address.  She then proclaims, "I live at 418!"  Here is the number one awkward moment of the week that followed.

First of all, my mind is whirling, quickly trying to do postal math to try to figure out where this woman lives.  I have no idea.  I know she must live close by but I really have no concept of where.  So I say:

Me:  "I live in the yellow house."
Mysterious Neighbor (MN): "I live in the yellow house."
Me:  "Which one of us lives in the yellow house?"
MN:  "Did you just move in?"
Me:  "No.  Did you just move in?"
MN: "Yes, in November."
Me: "Do we live across the street from each other?"
MN: "We live diagonal from each other.  Are you the piano teacher who lives next to Karen?"
Me:  (Feeling like a heel because she knows all about me and I know nothing about her) "Yes.  How many kids do you have?"  (Immediately feeling foolish because kids are baby goats and I should have said children.)
MN: "Three."

The conversation continues.  She's lovely.  It ends with her saying that I should come over sometime if I see her outside and we'll have a glass of iced tea.  She was just being nice.  She thinks I'm an imbecile.  I sort of think so too.  I'm beginning to think that salon is completely bad news and I should probably just seek a new one.

Whip It Good

I am 32 years old.  I am staring a dream right smack dab in the face.  And now that I have the opportunity to make this dream come true...I'm pretty sure I'm going to chicken out.

Since being introduced to roller derby I have been fascinated by it.  Who of us hasn't been?  Fearless women flaunting both their femininity and their fierce strength shamelessly.  Granted, the roller derby I was exposed to had all the integrity of WWF wrestling.   But still, something about it seemed raw and exciting.

Then "Whip It" hit the theaters (a movie about a young woman who joins a roller derby team).  I heard an interview with some of the actors on NPR and just had to go see it.  I dragged Brian.  I laughed, I cried, I was enchanted.  I wanted to be a roller derby queen.  I started telling everyone I knew how awesome it would be.  I quized them on what my roller derby name should be.

Then, a month ago one of my knitting friends forwards me an email.  Warsaw is trying to start a roller derby team!  WHAT!?!?!?  She had not known of my secret dream.  One of her friends is the captain.  She gives me the scoop.  She invites me to an informational meeting.  I decide, what the heck, why not at least check it out.

So last Wednesday I attended an informational meeting of the Lake City Derby Dolls.  I thoroughly believed that attending that meeting would be the end of my roller derby run, that I wouldn't actually consider carrying it any further.  But, I left that meeting PUMPED.  The first things the captain said were, "The women's flat track roller derby league is a non-profit organization, any proceeds go to designated charities, many of them for women.  And, when I first heard about this I thought, I'm not really athletic, I'm kind of a wuss, and I haven't been on skates for ages.  But I discovered I can do it.  And basically this is a really fun way of getting great exercise, helping out some great causes, and meeting a lot of great women."  AWESOME!  She basically addressed everyone of my misgivings. 

Saturday night I attended a bout (roller derby game) in Fort Wayne to see what it's all about.  It wasn't violent.  No elbows were being thrown.  There seemed to be good cameraderie between the women on opposing teams.  It looked so much less intimidating then I had imagined.  To be sure, I was swimming in a sea of fish net stockings.  And the names!  The names were fantastic.  Turbo Trixi, Chyna Syndrome, Dolly Pardon My Knocks, Bang Bang Ladesh, Alotta Attitude...and a couple that maybe weren't so appropriate.

So now, I'm faced with the decision to try it out or not.  Did I just talk a good game?  When opportunity came knocking on my door did I turn out the lights and pretend I wasn't home?  I am kind of a wuss.  BUT, I love a good bruise.  One could say I'm proud of them in fact.  And let's face it - I'm 32 years old.  I'm not getting any younger.  Will this be one of those moments that when I'm 73 I'll look back and think, "Why didn't I just try it?"  Will I look back with regret at those chances in life that I let fear keep me from taking?  So, I think I'll go to a practice.  Even if I never play in a bout, I can say I went for it.

And now, two questions remain:
1. Where do I get fishnets?
2. What should my roller derby name be? 

I feel like I'd like to give a nod to my anabaptist roots.  Perhaps, Menno Militia or Patty Pass-a-fist...I'm open to suggestions.

Update on Life

The Olympics are WAY done and still I have not gotten back into the swing of blogging.  But I'm going to blame my blog-laziness on them.  Stupid Olympics. 

BUT, here is a picture of my Olympic hat.  (Never mind how scary Brian may look...he is attempting to look happy for me.)  You may have seen this hat on the US Olympians in the opening ceremonies as well as on certain athletes while standing around in the snow.  Me and my knitting friends spotted the hat immediately and decided we MUST learn how to knit it.  Thankfully, our local yarn store owner went to town creating a chart and voila! the hat is mine.  It involved me tying yarn to my kitchen mixer and attempting to create twisted cord for the tassles, which I must say worked swimmingly.  However, the yarn shop owner rejected them (claiming they were too tight) and made me twist tassles by hand in her store.  How humiliating.  And my moose are dimply.  I am not happy about that.  I'll just have to make another one so that Brian and I can match.  :)

In March we hosted a mystery supper for our church youth group.  If you have never been to one you must.  They are tons of fun.  Or maybe you should host one but if you do, you may want to hire extra help.  Here is the menu just to give you an idea of what it entails.

Welcome to our Mystery Dinner. Dinner will consist of three courses. For each course please select 6 items from the menu below. Place the numbers that correspond to the items you've selected, in the spaces next to the letters below. No duplicates allowed! You will be served only those items selected for each course.


Among the items you are to select are such items as your utensils, beverages, and your napkin. You must make all of your course selections before the meal begins and turn this form into your maitre de.

We hope you enjoy your meal (if you can figure out what you are ordering). Good luck!

MYSTERY MENU

1. The fourth item required to summon Captain Planet

2. Racial Harmony

3. Poultry’s Sin

4. A tricky Situation

5. The Cat’s Meow

6. Prison Enemy

7. Immature Biscuit

8. Early Hodgepodge

9. Warm Snuggles

10. Dangerous to Cut

11. Particle Maintenance

12. Yellow Surfboard

13. Fork

14. Sleepy relative

15. Forest river

16. Tot’s Money Maker

17. Ebony’s Embrace

18. Beatles Favorite Crop

And here is what we served (not in the order of the menu above):

Deviled egg, cheese, pickle, napkin, lasagna, tossed salad, garlic bread, lemonade, fork, spoon, toothpick, knife, brownie cheesecake, cream of broccoli soup, hershey kiss, and strawberries.

Brian and I were so in control leading up to this event.  We went to the store on Tuesday evening and then spent the whole night prepping our food.  We were in such good shape that when we got home on Wednesday evening we sort of paced around for awhile waiting to put the food in the oven or to assemble things.  We became totally arrogant with our advanced preparation thinking it was going to be a breeze.  And then the 12 people present turned in their menus and HOLY COW! I felt like we began a sprint that did not end for 1.5 hours.  We totally underestimated how much work it would be to assemble everyone's plates.  And people were hungry and grumbly and Brian and I were frantically trying to decode menus and put plates together.  We also underestimated how many plates we would need.  Brian was washing dishes as we went.  I cannot describe the chaos that went on in that kitchen on that night.  You would weep and scream if you knew the horrors.  (Notice the blanket hanging over the kitchen doorway so the horrors could not be witnessed.)  But I think it was successful...I think the youth had fun but frankly I simply didn't have time to check in on that.

This is an "after" picture.  I don't know if you can see how dazed and shell-shocked I am from the experience.  Also notice that I am sitting on the floor.  When I mentioned sitting on the couch to rest my weary bones there were immediately 11 teenagers on the couch. The kids were awesome though.  I would do it again in a heartbeat.


I went to another wonderful show at the Morris with my theater going friend Heather.  We saw "Rain" a Beatles tribute show.  It was like going to the best sing along imaginable.  Nothing but fun.  And the show was done in a clever way so that you could sort of imagine what it would have been like to see the Beatles in each stage of their run together.  (i.e. the Ed Sullivan set, the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band era and look, etc.)  However, there were several people in the audience taking pictures on phones and other cameras  and Heather and I were like, ummm, you do realize that's not really the Beatles up there right? 

On the way back to Heather's house we realized how very animated we can get in our conversations when Heather glanced to her left at a stoplight and saw a young man hanging out his window mimicking our gesticulations.  Our conversation had been about the Olympics.  We are both very passionate, what can I say?

That about brings us up to the present.  This past weekend was Easter and what a great weekend it turned out to be.  My parents returned home from Texas on Wednesday night.  My sister and her family came to spend the weekend with us which is always so much fun.  Our good friends Dan and Felicia and Colin came and had a bonfire with us Saturday night.  Dan and Felicia came to church on Sunday and joined my family for dinner and it was just such a fun and awesome weekend!  Made so much better by Kevin's neverending stream of joke telling all weekend.  Therefore, I end this blog with my favorite Kevin joke of the weekend.

Two peanuts were walking down the street.
And one was a-salted.