I Have Seen My Future

I saw my future in line at Walgreens (no, not Walmart...Walgreens) this afternoon.

Little old stooped over white haired lady in line in front of us with her cart and recyclable shopping bag lays 3 items on the checkout counter:  rubbing alcohol, a container of salt, and Ben Gay. 

IN her cart was a case of Dos Equis.

Ben Gay and beer, people. 

Wine Trail

Once again, under the hashtag of #OtherPeopleGoOnTripsIGoOnAdventures I have hit upon another one of those moments that makes MyPoolBoy so glad that he didn't marry someone boring.

We decided that we needed a bottle of our favorite winery's blackberry / blueberry wine.  Alas, it was before the winery was open (because apparently civilized people don't start going to the winery before noon -- or they are going to "sell no wine before its time" or some bullsh1t).

That's ok, I think.  The liquor store downtown opens at 10 and they have it.  (Because white trash folks WILL go to the liquor store before noon.)
Alas, they were sold out. '

What to do, what to do?

Soooooo, I went to the winery website and found locations where it could be procured, and I tried to keep a straight face when I instructed MyPoolBoy that he needed to drive out to the deer processor.

Deer.

Processor.

I sent him in because HE would not look out of place in the deer processor shop.  He opened the door and turned right back around and motioned for me to come in.  Because while he does not look out of place IN the deer processor shop, he does seem out of place BUYING WINE at the deer processor shop.  Y'all.  We bought wine at the deer processor.

I am happy to report that as a result of our efforts, we successfully obtained not just one but THREE bottles of wine.

And a bag of jerky.

Old Hat

So. Yesterday we took our kids to the local museum (read: former school admin building full of random old crap that local families donated after they cleaned out their dead mother in laws storage building and couldn't even get Goodwill to take it - we have only donated Native American dance regalia, so definitely random but not technically old). 

In the back room alcove there was a pink cowboy hat with rhinestones or some other bling crap on it. My students immediately came to get me and asked me if my family had donated it. 

I replied to them that it was not mine. 

And then instructed them that we could make it mine, if a few of them were willing to be a self-sacrifice and create a diversion by knocking over something expensive-looking so that I could grab it and make a run for it. Told the rest of them to save themselves and meet me back at the classroom. 

No takers. I'm not so sure it was because they don't have a sense of teamwork but more because they do possess a healthy level of fear of whether I'm kidding or not.