Practical shoes

Mother and Dad arrived Saturday from Arizona.  It's been a nice visit.  Dad and I had a beautiful mountain bike ride, we all walked to Snoasis for shaved ice [where we waited in line with the other addicts patrons], and  Mother and I were able to have a mother-daughter shopping day.

Mom is the best shopping companion I've ever had.  I mean that sincerely.  We appreciate each other's taste and can give honest, meaningful feedback on potential purchases, yet we're comfortable parting ways to investigate individual interests, always returning to a predetermined rendezvous site. 

We both love a leisurely lunch with good food and wine, or on occasion, recognize it's best to quickly consume a giant cookie and a Coke so we can hit all the targeted stores before day's end.  She makes me laugh when she sees the gals with their thong underwear showing above their ultra-low-rise jeans, her eyebrows raised as she whispers, "I see London, I see France..."

Yesterday we shopped.  As I was in the shower preparing myself for shopping day, Mom poked her head in, "What are you wearing?"  We always quasi-coordinate.  "Something cute," I said.

I decided to wear jeans, and a black cami with a short-sleeved, black sweater.   I also decided to wear some Steve Madden, high heel shoes that I've never worn.  They're a tad out of my league and comfort zone, but very fun.  Mom says, "Are you really wearing those shoes."  I said, "Yes, why?"  "Honey, you're gonna kill yourself.  You better bring a second pair incase your feet hurt."   I thought about it and decided I'd throw an extra pair of shoes in the back seat of the car.  But, I'd probably be fine.

We hit a small country called IKEA first.  My feet didn't hurt, but I noticed I was fiddling with my shoes occasionally.  Not cool, but I was proud of the discreet way I handled it.  I was lookin' good in my high heels.  We drove to a few more stores, paced and positioned so that I could walk short distances, and recover in the car as we traveled to the next location.  I was managing, but fading.

Within one specific moment, in Restoration Hardware, fiddling and irritation became intense pain on the balls of my feet, and my lower back spasmed a bit.  It was time to change into the 2nd string shoes, which were still cute but a bit orthopedic looking.  Had I not had the 2nd string shoes, I would have purchased ANY shoe at ANY price... or gone home.

Mom:  "How do your feet feel?  You're walking with a perceptible limp."

Me:  "Terrible.  You were right.  I'll be back in a minute."

Mom and I decided it was a leisurely lunch, shopping day and she was giving me the "I told you so..." speech.  I said, "Mom, I was just trying to be like all the other girls."  Mom said, "I know Dear.  I try too, and it never quite works.  Have a Mojito.  You'll feel better."

So I did.  And I do.

I'm trying to get his priorities straight.

Me:  I need to do a new post today.  What should I write about?

Chris:  I don't know.  I have my own problems.

I know most people who blog are stealing moments from a hectic day to sit down and write. I often feel I've written something in the most fragmented way.  I still seek that extra bit of encouragement and a second set of eyes to confirm that I didn't miss a glaring error.  I usually call Chris. 

He's busy, but takes time out of his day to pause and read something I'm about to post to my blog.  I call him at work asking, "Can we please line edit this together?"  He says sarcastically, "Oh, I love this part." 

I read aloud very slowly as he's following along on his PC at work.  Is that a clumsy sentence?  Is it clear what I'm trying to say?  Is that too self-indulgent?  Okay, we made a few changes, lets start from the top.  He sighs, and I can hear him typing in the background.  "I don't think you're focusing," I say.  He replies, "I am too.  I think it's great.  Just don't use the word 'thingy'.  You've been using that too much."  Awww.  He is paying attention.

Not only because he patiently supports me in so many areas, but because he's good at what he does (which I really don't understand completely to be honest - I call it bringin' home the bacon), I'd like to link to some nice things for him (red = lovey).  Click here to see his blog post announcing the launch of something about which he is excited.  Click here to see his partner's post about the same thing with many flattering comments about my husband.  And finally click here to read the press release that cost him zero dollars but still made it to Yahoo.

Now I'm going to call him to see if he has a minute to help me line edit this...

Joe Merlot's Dandelion Wine

Saturday evening was the finale of our town's week long "Small Town Days" celebration.  The morning began with a parade and fun-run, an art and quilt show, an afternoon rodeo, culminating with a neighborhood party and real fireworks.  It was very pleasant.

Chris, our two older boys and I watched the fireworks from our backyard.  I'm not a photographer, so forgive these images.  It was pretty.  You had to be there...

Chris' parents live in Colorado and have many neat, interesting friends.  One of them is a man we call Joe Merlot.  He makes wine.  Chokecherry, plum, merlot, and even dandelion wine. 

I tasted dandelion wine for the first time five years ago.  I was spending the afternoon with my father-in-law at a semi-regular meeting of retired guys (long story) that they called "The Garden Party".  I can't express what a fun afternoon this was.  There were three friends in the group.  They alternated hosting which entailed serving lunch and beverages.  The men engaged in light conversation and adjourned late afternoon after a sip of Scotch.  I was referred to as "the guest speaker" the day I was included.

Joe Merlot was one of The Garden Party members and he fascinated me with his wine making stories, particularly how involved it is to make dandelion wine.  He had recruited his friends many times to harvest dandelions which is very labor intensive because, I was told, it's important to pick only dandelion petals and avoid the green, bitter stems or leaves. 

My father-in-law was hosting and happened to have a bottle of Joe Merlot's dandelion wine.  Lucky me - he opened it for us to share.  Sipping dandelion wine is cool, simply because you're sipping dandelion wine.  This bottle tasted a little like chardonnay, with the smokiness of a Scotch (I don't think my palette was influenced by my adjourning sip of Scotch - but possibly).  I liked it.

Joe Merlot gave me a bottle of dandelion wine to take home to Utah after that trip five years ago.  He sent a bottle with my father-in-law a year later, and last summer, one more bottle was sent with my father-in-law for us to share.  I wish I lived closer to him so I could be his apprentice.

WHY do I tell you my dandelion wine story?  Because the only thing that would have made the culmination of our "Small Town Days" more enjoyable, would have been if we were sippin' dandelion wine...