You know that Harley Chick and Hot Rod Russ were here last weekend.
You know that Harley Chick and Hot Rod Russ were here last weekend.
Wanted to share this with you:
Click here for recipe on the FatFreeVegan website.
I made it last night for a potluck lunch/dinner today, and though it took a little time to put all of the ingredients together, it was worth it.
I left out the Kalamata olives, though, and used Litehouse’s Huckleberry dressing along with the fresh basil and walnuts in the food processor.
Pictures later…
The Hope Mountain Blues Band had our weekly music lesson Tuesday. We sang this song for an hour and a half.
Don’t you love it? We do.
Then we decided to do something completely wild and out of character: we actually postponed our errands and grocery-shopping and important appointments and went out to lunch.
Dancing Mandolin Player ordered a Bacon Cookie and made us share it with her.
I have a lot of pictures from Harley Chick’s visit last weekend to share, but tonight I’m going to bed early. I have a lot to catch up on, I know, so be patient with me.
Okay, so…Texas feet. That’s what I say when my feet hurt, which is usually in Texas. And no, not because I’m wearing new or used cowboy boots. I have bad luck with shoes and sandals, and walking on Austin’s uneven sidewalks and standing at music venues gives me “Texas Feet”.
Today I drove Banjo Man to the airport in the Great Big City a hundred miles away. I was sad. Banjo Man was sad. Kiss, kiss. Wave, wave.
And then I grabbed the GPS to find my way to Lenscrafters, because my glasses broke again this morning. The arm of one side is broken and sometimes the screw comes out. I need new glasses, but I haven’t had time (since last December, according to the new prescription) to get them. Huh. Where does the time go?
So I went to the Great Big Mall on the way home. I haven’t been to a mall in years, unless I count the twenty minutes in Austin for my Darling Grandson to have his picture taken with the Easter Bunny. The kid frowned at the big white rabbit the whole time. Hilarious.
Anyway, I parked in front of the food court doors and wandered around like a homeless person until I spotted Lenscrafters. They couldn’t make me new glasses if I picked out new frames because something was out of stock. But the woman replaced the screw in my old glasses and I was good to go.
But first…new shoes??? I had that new pair of black Crocs but they were more of a winter style, and hot, so I thought I’d look for something like sandals. I limped into a discount shoe store and found a pair of Dr. Scholl sandals with a gel heel. Heaven. I bought them, but there was a sale that was “Buy One Get One Half Price”, so the salesclerk (who couldn’t quite believe I didn’t want to shop for a second pair) gave me a rain check card for a half-price pair.
I splurged on fried prawns in the food court. And watched the kids and mothers shop for school clothes. They all seemed very calm, which isn’t what I remember about shopping for school clothes, but that’s another blog post for another day.
A question about Mall Etiquette from a non-maller: Is it okay to approach a stranger with three children to offer your half-price shoe coupon to her?
The coupon was refused. Politely.
I moved on, with the help of the GPS and google, to a Crocs store 8 miles east, near Cabela’s.
It turned out to be a dead end empty lot at the edge of the Cabela’s parking lot. So I went into Cabela’s, hoping that there would be Crocs there. And there were a few, very large camouflage-print Crocs. I was tempted, of course, so I would look good on my next bear hunt.
Back in the car, with a Cabela’s diet coke and no Crocs, I asked the GPS for directions to a quilting store.
According to the device, it no longer existed. Or never had. I decided to go there anyway, because I needed something specific to finish a quilt top and it was on the way home and what a shame if that store had gone out of business like so many other quilt shops had.
The GPS was wrong again, only this time that was a good thing. I found the fabric I needed and hurried home to the lake and the mountains and the woods.
Off to fiddle a little while…and put my feet up. It’s good to be home.
Harley Chick and Hot Rod Russ arrived in Hope Friday afternoon! We coaxed them out of their motor home (and away from the Harley) and into the lake house.
We installed them in the honeymoon suite and gave them dinner on the screened porch. (Motor home??? What motor home????)
Little did they know the Idaho weekend that lay in store!
Breakfast at the Pack River Store, always an adventure.
Shopping at the Farmer’s Market in Sandpoint.
We left the guys alone for ten minutes and they bought sage oil and flower-infused iced tea drinks. I understand being thirsty, but the sage oil remains a mystery.
Market highlights:
to be continued….
The Infamous Stringdusters were in town and we (Banjo Man, Dancing Mandolin Player and I) had tickets for the 10 PM show.
So we hurried from Trinity to a new place called The Hive. Its interior looked like a House of Blues–great stage, lighting, dark wood, rustic, two levels, etc.
Banjo Man thought I put his wrist band on too tight and said he had no circulation in his hand.
So dramatic.
The Stringdusters, a wild–and I mean wild–bluegrass-rock band took the stage at 11 PM.
We usually are in bed at 9:30. So we were so proud of ourselves for staying awake. The band was great, the crowd was under-forty, and Banjo Man wanted to go home after the first set.
“I’m the oldest person in the whole place,” he whined. “And it’s midnight.”
DMP and I refused to leave. We knew we had already hurt ourselves by staying up so late. Another hour wasn’t going to make any difference.
I think we arrived back home around 1:30 AM. We were thrilled to have stayed out so late. No one could remember the last time we’d done anything like that together.
Maybe in the ’80’s.
I’ll tell you about Taylor Hicks in a minute.
First of all, let me set the stage:
Friday night at Trinity. On the lake. In Sandpoint. Here’s the view from the outdoor deck.
We are gathered to listen to Retired Mountain Lady make her debut with the band “Running With Scissors”, who play at Trinity’s every Friday night. RML has been practicing non stop for weeks.
Connie played the second and third sets with the band and looked as if she’d been playing with the guys for years.
Retired Mountain Man focused on the music.
And then Taylor Hicks and his party arrived. It seemed they’d booked our table, and we’d been there long enough to eat dinner and move on. We were banished to the picnic tables on the lawn while most of our group asked, “Who is Taylor Hicks?”
Banjo Man and I knew, due to our extensive knowledge of reality television and many hours spent watching it. Hint: American Idol winner.
I wanted a photo for the blog, but Banjo Man begged me to stay away from our former table. Somewhere directly under the middle blue umbrella is Taylor Hicks, sitting in Banjo Man’s chair.
to be continued…….
It’s Tuesday. It’s Music Lessons With Doug Day.
Just thought you’d like to know that.
Dancing Mandolin Player is taking me to a store in town that sells Crocs, those odd plastic shoes that make me think of Holland. My feet hurt and DMP swears that Crocs are what I need to ease the pain.
Just thought you’d like to know that, too.
On the way to town, there is a place to park and view the lake. This is what the tourists see. There are usually people here taking photos.
Harley Chick and Hot Rod Russ are heading west and will be here Thursday night. I think they’ll like the view!
Playing an official gig was more fun than anything.
Really. More fun than anything.
But we were so glad it was over and we’d survived. We’d controlled our nerves so no one fainted or had a heart attack or threw up in the bushes. We didn’t always remember the words to the songs, but we either faked it or laughed it off.

Mandolin Ann, showing off the money and wearing a Jose Cuervo scarf. Where did she get that? We all want one!
We were tired and hungry and thirsty…and $85 richer. Time to party!!!