Well, it DOES rain in Southern California

I can't believe it is just a little less than a month ago we left Michigan. We have learned a lot about life on the road and are still learning.

Except, well, we aren't exactly on the road. We have been at our daughter's home since just before Christmas.

Our daughter and King and the new fence.

Since the holidays King, our daughter and son-in-law have been working on a variety of projects... a new fence, a new patio/conversation pit, a new pathway, new gutters and now King and our daughter are experimenting with making a planter made of concrete for her backyard.

The patio/conversation pit.

It is sometimes hard to believe the child I had to fight every morning to go out and feed the horses is now up and ready to go when we arrive at her home sometime between 7 and 8 a.m. She has twin sons and somehow during the day she is able to find new projects on Pinterest that she springs on her father. King loves it. He spends much of the day puttering in her garage, cigar clamped between his teeth, measuring boards and figuring how to build a form for what I am certain is going to be a 5000 pound planter.

Ya Ya (the other grandmother) and I take care of the twins and try not to step on eachother's toes.

And it has been raining. Days of grey punctuated by a day of brilliant sunshine. And I am not complaining. Not ever. Because for me it is quite warm. (I noticed I am the only person in Home Depot without a jacket or sweatshirt). It really is not cold enough to warrant anything more than a long-sleeved shirt. Silly people. They don't know the meaning of cold. I don't even mind the more expensive gas because I don't have to stand in below zero weather to pump it. We left Michigan trying to beat a snowstorm and somewhere in the trailer is a scarf and and pair of mittens that will attest to that fact. If I could find them they would be my only reminder of a colder climate..
But I digress about travel trailer living.

Right now the trailer is the place we crash every evening. By the time we get home (and this IS our home now) -- usually around 8 p.m. King falls immediately into bed. I will pull up a YouTube video (this campground has electricity and wifi), he will last 15 minutes into a "Hogans Heroes" rerun and then I confiscate the laptop and do my battle with insomnia by playing solitaire or reading until I fall asleep as well

We are learning how much water we go through in a week and have mastered the "art" of using a dump station. Now that it is no longer nine degrees we have figured out just how much propane we need at night and how much propane the refrigerator uses. We have discovered the thermostat in the refrigerator is not working properly and even with it set on the lowest setting I still find frozen bottled water and a bag of grapes have turned into grape ice cubes. On the plus side, I don't have to worry about butter going bad.

Sometime within the next two weeks we will be heading to Joshua Tree National Forest for some dispersed (no amenities) camping and then...well, we haven't planned that far. We have ideas we've kicked around but nothing concrete. (Ha, Ha, concrete, I have cement on my mind).

And speaking of cement and concrete, did you know cement is an ingredient of concrete or vice versa. I am sure, but I know someone will correct me..

So, almost four weeks into our new adventure and we are still married. Still having fun and still learning.

P.S. I was looking a photos of our trailer and discovered sometime between October and when we left in December, someone stole two hubcaps off the trailer. I kept looking at the trailer before we left and saying to myself, "Well that looks ugly." But not always being astute, I could not figure out what it was. Why would someone steal just two hubcaps? I guess a trip to a junkyard is in order. Or maybe I'll splurge and get new ones.

The trailer at our home sometime in mid-October.

The trailer AS our home in mid-December.

We made it to California

I can't believe we've actually been here a week. WoooHooo. After a few days of rain, today is sunny and warm...well warm for King and I anyway.

We left Friday, December 16 in the frigid cold, trying to keep ahead of a predicted snow storm. Not wanting to stick close to the lake (Lake Michigan for the uninformed) and to avoid lake effect snow, we opted to head to Indianapolis and hang a right. Googlemaps kept telling us there was a faster, shorter route and we kept telling her we were very happy with the route we were on, thank you very much. This became a recurring theme throughout the trip here.

We ended up camping the first night in a small state park geared for equestrians near Pickneyville, Ill. Having camped many, many, many years with horses I pretty much knew what type of campground to expect, and I was not disappointed.  It was easily the

View from our campsite near Pickneyville, Ill.

campground furthest off the beaten path. Turns out Googlemaps took us in the back way of the campground and we had to hunt for the campground office on the way out Saturday morning to pay the $8 fee. We had the entire park to ourselves and saw lots of deer. Our camping spot was next to a small pond. Very peaceful and quiet.

The ride to the campground was interesting. We passed through lots of little towns each with their own high school and Quick Stop. Americana at its best. Lovely.

Saturday morning we discovered someone had forgotten to pack King's shaving kit with all his medication in it so we spent a lot of time on the phone with our insurance company trying to get them to pay for the hundreds of dollars worth of medication he takes. They were most unhelpful. Thanks BCBS. We love you too. Not. I guess that's why we pay the big bucks in premiums so you can not help us when we need it. The pharmacist at Walgreens, however, was most helpful and we were able to get a half order of his prescriptions. When these run out we are hopeful our insurance will pick up where we left off when we left home. We had been assured before we left they would. Not holding our collective breath on that one.

We hit warm weather Saturday as we were traveling west on US 40. But the weatherman was, once again, predicting inclement weather and we decided to stick to the main roads as much as possible, as we were worried that freezing rain on backroads to state parks might be treacherous on Sunday morning. We ended up sleeping in a truck stop outside Fort Smith, Arkansas. Not so peaceful and quiet but we were exhausted and fell asleep with no problems.

The young couple from North Carolina
who camped next to us decorated their
trailer with Christmas lights. They were
fairly upbeat despite the fact the water
pipes in their trailer burst because of
the bitter cold.

We were on the road early Sunday morning and by the time the sun came up, the temperature rose to a whopping 19 degrees. It was a day of driving, punctuated by various stops looking for wifi as my "smart phone" isn't always so smart. We ended up stopping for the night in a small city park in Elk City, Oklahoma. There were five free campsites located next to a small lake. Lots of ducks and geese on the water. The water in the camper froze but fortunately the pipes did not burst.
The young couple from North Carolina in the trailer next to us (we were the only two campers in the park) were not so lucky as their pipes burst. They were on the end of a five month trip and were heading for relatives in eastern Oklahoma -- planning to spend the Christmas holiday with them. They seemed pretty un-phased by their luck. They simply went out to eat and were back later in the evening. They even took the time to outline their trailer with Christmas lights.

At this point we realized if we drove like crazy people and took no scenic detours we could arrive in San Diego earlier than anticipated. It sounded like a good plan. And when we got up Monday morning to temperatures of nine degrees, we decided to head south and then hang another right to head west -- so we took US 70/380 south to Ruidoso, NM. Once again we stopped at a variety of places to find decent wifi connections ... McDonald's being the stop of choice. We decided that rather than looking for out of the way places to camp we would look for places not so far off the beaten path. I read about a small county roadside park where camping was allowed right next to the highway. We arrived sometime in the late afternoon and pulled into what amounted to a driveway with a picnic shelter. When a dog from the neighboring junk yard came out and barked at us -- while we were still sitting in the running truck deciding if this place was safe -- we decided to move on. Several miles down the road we pulled into a casino parking lot outside Ruidoso, New Mexico and King asked if they allowed overnight camping. They did, so we stayed put for the evening. We were on the road again by 5 a.m., but not before King stopped into the casino to lose $10 on the Wheel of Fortune slot machine.

There is a whole lot of nothing between Ruidoso, NM and Tucson, Arizona. But sticking with US 70 and US 10 we made it to Tucson in fairly good time. We found a campsite at a county park just outside Saguaro National Park. We had great desert views and the weather was warm (for us

The view from our campsite near Tucson.

anyway). Wednesday morning we left before the sun came up. Googlemaps wanted us to take the back roads out of the park. We declined. We came to a fork in the road that directed us to US 10 -- either straight or to the left. We choose left. We should have chosen straight. As we were cruising through the mountains in the dark King pointed out to a trail of headlights on a switchback in the distance. "Wow, take a look at that."

Ummmm, "That's the road we are on honey." I have to confess, it was pretty scary. Six days of pulling the trailer does not an expert make. We made it through and are still married. I am quite amazed to be honest. I should also mention here that King does ALL of the driving. Sitting in the passenger seat navigating is not something he likes to do. I do have a few more years on him in the parking department -- I spent 10 years pulling a horse trailer around the state. (However, a gooseneck horse trailer does park differently than a bumper pull trailer, but I get the concept more readily). At any rate, parking is my domain. Driving is his.

Sometime Wednesday afternoon we arrived in/near San Diego.

Last spring when I was visiting our daughter she and I scouted a few camping spots in the San Diego area. The campground we chose was picked for its convenience to her home. The fact that it is perched on the side of a mountain with great views didn't hurt. It will be the most expensive place we

The view from the back of our trailer.

stay while on our adventure. And I must confess the park rules and regulations are a pain in the backside. We wanted to stay 21 days. The plan is to babysit while our daughter and son-in-law are ringing in the New Year at a winery north of here (a two night adventure for them) and then babysit again while they are on a getaway vacation to Hawaii. At this particular park (Lake Jennings Recreation Area) short-term camping is 14 days. You can stay 14 days and then must leave for 14 days before you can return. Long-term stays are 30 days or longer. No in between. None. Nada. Nothing. No exceptions. No nothing. So phooey on them. We found a county park WITH electricity for the same price. Their loss. No good reviews from us. We paid them through January 4th and is all the longer we will stay. Had we known their inflexibility ahead of time we would not have stayed one day, despite the lovely views and clean restrooms. We will not be back. Ever.

Other than that one aggravating hiccup it has been a great visit. Christmas with the grandsons and two sets of grandparents has been a lot of fun. King and our daughter are rebuilding her fence in their backyard. They share the fence with the neighbor. The fence was leaning precariously and was pretty rotted. King has a project and the neighbors and our daughter are delighted. A win-win for everyone.

In a few days we will visit the San Diego Zoo and stay late enough to see the Christmas lights. The boys are coming to our campsite some evening to roast marshmallows and make s'mores. Once everyone returns from various vacations, King and I will hit the road again and be off for more adventures.

Happy New Year everyone.

Just do it

It was six months ago today King and I brought home our travel trailer -- complete with soft spots in the floor, sketchy wiring, cardboard covering a hole in the back wall and questionable tires. It was a rather tense trip home, but we made it unscathed.

After watching countless YouTube trailer rehabilitation videos followed by a lot of sawing, nailing, caulking, cleaning, arguing and trips to the trailer parts store, we are eight days away from taking off on our new adventure. Probably one of the happiest days in this rehab escapade was the day we got new tires and the tire dealer confirmed my assertions the axles and bearings were sound. (Up until that point my bravado regarding their soundness was much more of an act rather than true belief).

King and I have pared down our belongings. Some have been boxed up for safekeeping and the rest have been distributed to our children -- or given away. Change is scary. Saying goodbye to my younger sister was difficult. Hugging the children and grandchildren goodbye left a lump in my throat. We will be back, but  our lives will have changed. We won't be the traditional Grandma and Grandpa in a little house next to the river. Those realizations are a little sobering.

But if we don't do this we will have regrets.

Last spring, when my sister was sick with cancer she said several times, "I should have retired last year."  She was under the notion she had to have a  certain amount of money before she could retire. She scrimped and saved and decided one more year of work would help make her life more comfortable. She never lived to see her retirement.

King and I have nowhere near any type of magical sum that will make life easier. We have barely enough to be comfortable. But that is the way we have always lived and when one lives that way one learns "things" do not make happiness. Being together. Having (cheap) fun. Adventure. Doing what one can with what one has. Going out for dinner often means fast food or a greasy diner. King is just as content with boiled hot dogs at home. I am the one who wants a break from the kitchen.

One of my last days of working my retail job, a customer from out of town asked me about winters along the lakeshore. I was asked that often. I told her about winters past when the daily commute to St. Joe or Holland was treacherous. I explained about the work we did as caretakers and the amount of work entailed in cutting wood and feeding critters while battling snow. I told her some winters are snowy, some are not, but this year I would not be around to see what it would be like and talked a bit about heading out for parts unknown.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try something like that, but never had enough money," she said.

"You don't need money. You just do it," was my reply. Obviously she thought King and I have a lot of money. I wish.

I read a travel blog written by a retired executive from somewhere who advised that one needed an annual income of $60,000 in order to travel by RV comfortably. I suppose some might need that amount when luxury sites cost $50 or more per night. We plan to "dry camp" or "boondock." National parks have senior citizen passes at a lifetime cost of $10. Without electric hookups and water camping is free or cheap.

After years of tenting, our 40 year old travel trailer feels like the Taj Mahal -- minus the mausoleum. There are many RV parks that won't allow us to camp with our little travel trailer because it is "too old." Blatant age discrimination. Their loss.

In eight short days we will be heading out west. In eight short days we will be starting a new chapter in our lives. In 10 short days we may find ourselves stranded in Kansas. That's okay. It is an adventure. We've planned as much as we can plan. The rest will be by trial, error and sheer dumb luck.

Anyone can do this. Just. Do It.

What I learned on my summer vacation

It has been an interesting summer.

I believe in one of my previous blogs I mentioned King and I decided I would look for seasonal employment so we could pay cash for the renovations on our travel trailer. We decided he would continued to work the farm -- cutting wood and tending the 50 acres of lawn and woods -- as we completed our caretaker gig. I garden. I don't cut and stack wood. At least not to King's liking.

Cutting wood for the winter is a never ending job. I have not been able to stack wood to King's liking. I don't believe he has figured out my lack of stacking ability is not entirely accidental.

There were a few bumps along to road to finding a job. I believe I mentioned being dismissed from a job while job shadowing because I am a former reporter and the fear was I might sell the "trade secrets" of the business. As if after 40 years of reporting, several Michigan Press Association awards, and just generally working my butt off at my chosen field, I would destroy my reputation by selling my soul to the highest bidder. Despite what people say about the media, most of us do have integrity.

Anyway, I eventually got a job at a small clothing store in the tourist town where King and I live. The shop sells t-shirts and other touristy apparel as well as several lines of women's clothing --  mostly for the more mature female.

And despite negative comments some people may say about tourists and visitors who flock to the lakeshore for the summer, I found most of the customers to be pleasant, friendly, happy to be on vacation and generally in a good mood. After all, who does not love to be on vacation? And in a few short months King and I will be on semi-permanent vacation as well, so I feel a certain kinship with these people. (Although I must confess, we probably won't be buying many t-shirts along the way).

I have often heard local residents complain that the tourism industry does not affect them positively  and only serves to create more traffic downtown and deplete limited parking availability.

Are they right? Yes and no.

In our small community many large industries left the area long ago. Good paying jobs disappeared. And yes I will agree, minimum wage jobs provided by the tourism industry don't come close to the pay of factory jobs. Families can not survive on minimum wage. Seasonal jobs such as mine make a monthly truck payment, or pay for the latest addition to our travel trailer, but we could not live on my income. We never expected to. But tourists do bring thousands of dollars to the community. Roads, schools, parks and other public spaces all benefit from the money brought to the area via the tourism industry. Think about it, hotels, motels, bed and breakfasts, restaurants, t-shirt shops, marinas, charter fishing boats ... all these businesses pay taxes and keep things running in the community. Embrace the crowds folks. I have lived in ghost towns with more boarded up businesses than open businesses. Trust me. It does make a difference to the well-being of the entire community.

So I spent the last half of the summer hawking t-shirts. To be honest -- and it probably sounds hokey -- working a quiet retail job in a sometimes sleepy, sometimes busy little town is something I always wanted to try. I can't say it was on my bucket list, but I have to admit, it was more fun than attending countless staff meetings as I did when I worked for a university and was certainly more fun than covering a county board of commissioners meeting as I did when I was a reporter.

Of course, being in the interviewing business, as I was for so many years, I asked a lot of questions. "Do you live in the area? Where are you from? Have you been here before? Where are you staying? How many summers have you been coming here?"

People love to talk about themselves. If you show a genuine interest in them, they will tell you a lot of things. They will also ask questions of their own: "Have you always worked here?  Where is the nearest bathroom? What do you recommend as a good place to eat? How do I find ______? Where is the lighthouse?"

I was surprised by the number of times I was asked "What do you do here in the winter?" Ummm, dress warm and generally find parking spaces in front of the stores we want to visit downtown. Yes, it becomes much quieter during the winter months. And yes, not all the shops remain open year-round. Yes, this one does. No, I am not the owner.

And I had the privilege of meeting all kinds of ... aahhh ... interesting people. There was an older couple who came into the store and asked to use our restroom. (We don't have a public restroom, but if a customer looks as though they are in dire need of the facilities, we take them through the storage area to our private restroom in the back of the store). As  I was taking the woman to the back she told me they had been at a restaurant and refused to use the facilities there because the sign on the door read, "Unisex." After she was finished using our facility I told her since all the employees in our store used the same facility I supposed our restroom was "Unisex" as well. (I can be snarky).

It's been fun. It's been an education. And despite the days when I was counting the hours until it was time to go home --15 minutes after starting my shift -- it was good.Will I do it again? Probably not.

We told the person who owns the hobby farm where we work we would come back next summer for one last season. Unless things change drastically we will keep our word. Rather than find another seasonal job, I will probably give in and learn to stack wood correctly.


Travel Trailer update: Work is going well on the trailer renovation. I decided to name our future home "The Tree House," because as kids the tree houses we built were made of leftover lumber and other scraps that we could scrounge. And we did our renovations on the cheap with whatever supplies we had on hand, purchasing things only as we really, really needed them.  However, that being said, I am pretty pleased with our progress and I think she looks pretty good.  We have the propane water heater installed and King is waiting for help to make certain it's hooked up correctly. We'd rather not asphyxiate ourselves on the road. After that, all that is needed is a little more paint, some curtains, re-covering cushions and we are done.

The couch in back has been replaced with a permanent bed. We still need to add storage underneath
and I need to recover the former couch cushions, add throw pillows and sew curtains.
(And yes, there is a door to access the water tank under the bed).

The ceiling with the AC unit. We still need to paint everything. Although it is hard to see,
there is a fold-down bunk bed in the back above the regular bed.
We can pull it down (and also convert the eating area) for additional sleeping space
when the grandchildren spend the night with us.

Dirty little secrets

I have a confession to make. I am tired of gardening. Or more correctly, I am tired of weeding. I am tired of preserving food. I'm ready for a break.

I still love to plant seeds and watch them grow. I still love playing in the greenhouse and still love transplanting plants. I just can't keep up.

This afternoon I went out into the garden to pick tomatoes. The plants were loaded down. I picked a  half a bushel. Red, meaty, juicy, really nice-looking tomatoes. There are plenty more still on the vine. The green beans also needed to be picked and the broccoli has bolted. Sigh. I did pick green peppers, pulled a few onions, added a few hot peppers and herbs to my basked and headed into the house. It was hot and sticky outside. The rain of the past few days has brought out the mosquitoes in droves.

By 2 p.m. I was cleaning and sorting tomatoes. I sliced those that are going to be dried in the dehydrator (that's easy) and scalded the rest to loosen their skins. Then they were dumped into cold water and the skins were removed. The canner was pulled out and the jars, lids and rings were placed in boiling water to sterilize them. In the meantime, green peppers, hot peppers, cilantro, onions, a little vinegar, garlic, some lime juice and whatever dried herbs I had on hand from last summer were added to the tomato mixture.

Viola! I had sorta salsa.  Sounds easy, right? All this took until 6 p.m. and then stray tomato juice and skins had to be washed off the kitchen floor. I am a messy cook. What can I say?

Seven pints (yes, seven pints for a half bushel of tomatoes and four hours work) of Sorta Salsa. Mostly it tastes like tomatoes with herbs. If one wants salsa that tastes like salsa, Newman's Own is pretty good. I use my home canned stuff to add to chili or other tomato based food. Chips and Salsa? Not so much.

Sometimes I make tomato juice as well. It takes even more tomatoes to make a quart of tomato juice. Sigh.

Confession time. I'm not certain it's all worth it.

Now I still enjoy making jams and jellies. King likes them too. Who would not like something with a bazillion cups of sugar? I've made low sugar stuff. It's gross as far as I'm concerned and its grossness is one of the few things King and I actually agree upon. He likes my dill pickles and one of our sons likes my bread and butter pickles. I rather like bread and butter pickles as well and why not? They too have a lot of sugar.

So in a few months we will hit the road. Gardening will be a distant memory. We have agreed to come back to work on the farm as caretakers one last summer.

I'm thinking of turning my garden into a soccer field for the grandchildren.

Sorta Salsa

And we keep working and working and ...

Apparently when people renovate their trailers they also give them names.

I suggested to King we paint "Love Shack" on the back of our trailer. He didn't go for it. "How about Carmen," I suggested. King was watching COPS and gave me a sideways glance that said, "You must be some kind of crazy," but all he said was, "We are not going to name the trailer."

Ok. I can live with calling it "The Trailer." I may even paint "The Trailer" on the back somewhere, inconspicuously, of course, right next to the rainbow colored peace symbol.

This week we got the floors repaired and fixed the gaping space in the back where the side seam meets the back seam. I have to admit, I was pretty proud of our work. King is not a carpenter. The work involved taxed his talents. But it looks pretty good. I just have to learn to leave him alone when he is working on projects. While my father preferred we stand around waiting for him to ask for a hammer or nails, King wants to be left alone. If I hide in the house it suits him just fine.

Anyway, King fixed the structure part of the trailer and it was my job to seal the seam.

After watching countless YouTube videos on how to seal seams I chose to follow one that I thought I might be able to imitate. It required the purchase of a special tape that joins the two sides of the trailer, forming a watertight seam which is then closed with a regular trailer seal. I ordered the tape a few weeks ago

King wanted to know why I ordered the tape long before we needed it. He makes me crazy that way.

"Because I will have it on hand when we need it," I told him. I received another eye roll and sideways glance for my effort. But today, when he decided the seam was ready to be sealed I had the equipment I needed to do it. Who is rolling their eyes now?

This is the finished seal (waiting for the butyl tape) on the back of the trailer. The gaping seam was so bad I never took a "before" photo for fear someone would say, "What were  you thinking when you bought this thing." Oh, wait. Someone did.

This is the front of the trailer that still needs to have the seam repaired. It was the lesser of the repair work needed.

I am also making him crazy looking for a floor covering.

"We are weeks away from that point," King argued. "We need to do the wiring, we need to fix the front seams, we need to get new tires, we need to insulate, THEN we can worry about paint and floors."

Fine. I get it. But I'm ready to get to the fun stuff now. Can't hurt to look.

In the meantime, the gardens still need to be tended. This is the first year I put down shade cloth in the garden. I still have to weed every week, but it is not nearly so time consuming.

Our tomato/green bean/broccoli garden.

Several years ago the gentleman we work for on the hobby farm ordered several cases of lilies. We planted and planted and planted and we still had several boxes of bulbs leftover. In desperation,  I finally planted a bunch around the perimeter of the tomato garden. They have been going strong for years now.

Is this discrimination?

Not sure if this is humiliating or just plain stupid.

After three hours at my new job I was let go. Before coming in I was told to to purchase specific clothes to wear at work. I was told to bring ID and a social security card (preferably my own I would surmise) I was told I was to come in and job shadow/train for a few days. And then, after three hours, I was told I was not going to make it at their store. How does one fail at job shadowing/training?  Seriously. How does one manage that?

Obviously we were not a good fit. It happens. Sometimes people simply do not click.

I wrote about what was to be my next adventure in my last blog: a job at the gourmet food shop in the tourist town where King and I currently live. I mentioned how the operations manager didn't want to hire me (because I am a former reporter and might sell their trade secrets to the highest bidder) but that she told the store manager to "do whatever you want."

After that warm welcome I knew going in I would have a lot to prove. I realized on my first (and only) day when I saw I was scheduled to work just one day that week that things were pretty much predestined.My name was not even on the following week's schedule. Additional staff was not scheduled for my training time, and according to the store manager, that was done purposefully by the operations manager so I would not have the undivided attention of the manager. I didn't know I would have less than three hours to prove myself.

I watched as the manager spoke with customers. I learned how to "suggestive" sell different products. I learned how to take inventory and stock shelves. I helped put parking cones out in the employee parking lot. I re-stocked crackers for samples. I made small-talk to a few customers. However, three hours in I was told I was not going to work out. Apparently the operations manager could tell this by watching me job shadow via a closed circuit camera from a remote location.

To be honest, I am relieved. Who wants to have to prove themselves over and over and over again?

Three hours in and I am glad I escaped with only wounded pride. I am obviously not cut out for gourmet food espionage. I do wish I had drained several bottles of olive oil on the floor and yelled, "Mazola Party!" at some point during my short tenure. It would have been a better reason for being canned.

Wounded pride or not, life goes on and I will pick myself up and dust myself off. I have already picked up a few more applications but it's a small town and once word is out that I am a spy who will sell her soul to the highest bidder, my odds are slim to none that someone will hire me.

And that is a shame because I am the employee who will work extra hours. I am the employee who will take shifts no one else wants. I am the employee who, after years of interviewing people, can make small talk with almost anyone. I am the employee who knows how to make people feel at ease.

But when all is said and done and I take time to step back and review the events of my gourmet food shop tenure, I have to ask myself: Is this what it feels like to be discriminated against?  For the simple fact that I worked as a reporter I am suspect?  Think about it. Think long and hard about it.

Yes, today I am hurt and bitter. Today I want to press my face against their plate glass windows and blow raspberries all over them (the windows, not the employees). But I am a grownup. I am a better person than the operations manager. I will move on. I will wish them well. Because frankly, they are not worth the effort for anything else. I also realize I don't need to work for a company that is so negative. Rather than dwell on the fact that I could have been a food spy, they could have thought, "Hey, someone with training to write our press releases."

P.S. I learned today the operations manager is blaming the store manager and denying ever having concerns over my previous job. And the store manager already did blame the operations manager. Denial and blame. Kind of like politics.

But I escaped with my life.

Life goes on and rather than participate in gourmet food espionage
I went back to work in my gardens. This is the tomato/broccoli/green bean garden.
 I've never done the weed cover before, I think I'm going to like it.

Cucumber plants. I keep experimenting with dill
pickle recipes.

First time we've been able to get cherries. In the past, when
I worked at the newspaper (where I was NOT a gourmet food spy),
I never got to them in time and the
birds always had a feast.

Young pepper plants.

Raised bed with lettuce.

I love infusing olive oil and vinegar
with basil.