This is a quick post until I have time to upload some photos from my pickle making extravaganza!
Not a big deal, except I didn't notice the mushy mess until I was checking out. Awkward.
Thank goodness I was only buying a few things and could quickly scoot out of the store before the checkout clerk had time to make any comments.
These are the kinds of things that happen when I try to cram too much into my schedule. I had just made a mad dash through my garden before running to the grocery store tonight to try to take advantage of the last few minutes of day light. Of course I hadn't been to my garden for a few days and everything was growing out of control so I harvested the monster zucchini (note to self: do NOT leave zucchini unattended for a long weekend unless you are trying to grow softball bats), pulled a few weeds, propped up the tomato plants, and jumped in my truck to head to the store. I never even thought to brush off my shirt.
Oh well, I should be getting used to this type of thing by now. I never seem to transition well from working in the dirt to being in public.
For instance, a few weeks ago I went to buy printer labels at Staples after work one night. As usual, I was running late, squeezed in a quick trip to my garden, and didn't have time to go home and wash up before the store closed. All was good and well until I got to the check out counter. Conversation with the checkout guy sounded something like this:
Checkout guy: "Dang! Your hands are dirty. Were you just fixing a car?"
Me: Glancing down at my hands and brushing a little chunk of dried mud on the counter "Oh, no, I was just working in the garden"
Checkout guy: "Oh. Geez, I didn't know gardening was that dirty."
Thankfully by this point my transaction was done so I could just nod, smile, and walk out the door leaving a small cloud of dust in my wake.
And even more recent.....
Just last week I went downtown to try to catch the showing of Fresh (the new foodie documentary). Of course I didn't buy tickets in advance for what I knew would be a popular event, so I was once again running out the door to jump in my truck at the last minute. On this same day, I had gotten stuck in a torrential downpour at work and was soaked through when I drove home from work less than an hour ago. Well, needless to say, as soon as I sat down again in the driver's seat my clean, dry shorts were soaked. No time to run back inside and grab a towel or change, though, had to get to that show!
After parking about three blocks away, I briskly walked to the theater hoping if I walked quickly enough no one would really notice my very obvious wet bottom. I didn't get any crazy looks or comments so I guess my plan worked - or people just felt sorry for the poor girl who sat in something wet.
When I finally go to the theater, the show was sold out. Dang! I did, however, get to see a few people I knew outside (who all had thought ahead and bought tickets in advance) and chatted for a little bit, all the while strategically standing with my still wet bottom towards the brick wall. Once everyone started to go inside, I slowly walked back to my truck feeling a little frustrated and deflated about missing what I am sure was a good event.
On my way back to the truck, I felt a little better when a guy on sidewalk was obviously checking out my legs. I usually am totally aggravated by this, but just for that night, I smiled and thought to myself, yeah, I do have nice legs.
A few short steps later I realized I had mud streaks down my legs and a very obvious ring around my ankles where the rain had washed all the dirt earlier. Sweet life.
Yeah, it's a dirty job sometimes. I better go take a shower.
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