the old montana hotel antiques mall

Posted on October 22, 2012 by is there any more pie?

Four floors:  main floor, two upstairs and the basement.  All filled with stuff.

I found it after only one wrong turn.  I gave myself 45 minutes.  It’s called “self-medication”, by the way.  I could have plopped my yoga-pants butt on a bar stool, lit a cigarette, ordered a shot of tequila and told my woes to the bartender, but looking at junk is more my style.

Missoula is a pretty cool little city.

Old Montana Hotel

Yard art? Cool!

Something for the band?

Looks just like my childhood desk. Love the sombrero!

Tony Lama’s, used and abused but still cool.

I came out of here with a pair of $25 boots and a $5 aluminum colander. I barely resisted two handstitched quilts and a tiny cupboard. The prices were reasonable and there was lots to see. Can’t wait to go back next year!

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home confinement is a pain in the you-know-what

Posted on October 19, 2012 by is there any more pie?

I have not left my house in twelve days.  I might as well be wearing an ankle bracelet.

Writing books is an insane lifestyle.  Have you noticed that writers whine a lot?  We do.  I do.  You should feel very sorry for Banjo Man.

My butt hurts.  I think I need a new chair.  I think I need a new career.  I shouldn’t have dropped out of college after only 30 days.  I don’t want to get up at 4 AM any more.  I need to have my eyes checked.  I’m gaining weight.   I can’t talk to my friends until the book is done.  I am all alone here in my office, all the time.  Thank goodness I am only a few pages away from finishing this damn thing.  I can’t believe this book is taking so long to write.  Why didn’t I start this a year ago?  Why did I start this at all?  Did I mention that my butt hurts?

Yes, feel very very very sorry for Banjo Man.

Yesterday I sat outside in my car and drank a diet coke and ate some Wheat Thins.  It was such a pretty afternoon, all sunshine and yellow leaves dropping on the driveway.  I needed a break from staring at a monitor.  The seats in the Highlander are so comfy.

As soon as I finish this book I am going to Texas.  Seriously.  Going. To. Texas.

To the land of vintage cowboy boots, guacomole, Johnny Gimble and margaritas.

I will celebrate a couple of special birthdays.  Hug my boys.  Fiddle.  Babysit.  Read story books.  Go for walks.  Cook some massive family dinners.  Shop for a wild pair of vintage Tony Lama’s.  Listen to lots of live music.  Spoil my daughter-in-law.  Adore my grandson.  I will not whine at all.

The next book is due December 15th, but that is far, far away.  In another galaxy.

Posted in personal female whining, writing | 5 Comments

and the seasons go ’round and ’round

Posted on October 18, 2012 by is there any more pie?

June.

October.

At least it’s not snowing yet.

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a morepie public service announcement

Posted on October 17, 2012 by is there any more pie?

TO WHOMEVER IT MAY CONCERN:

I am not an alarm clock.   I can get myself to where I need to be, and I will be on time, but the rest of the world is on their own.  I will stand at the front door admiring my new ebay cowboy boots at departure time, but I will no longer yell, “Fifteen minutes!  Ten minutes!  Five minutes!” like a damn train conductor.

I am not Google.  Yes, I love to research and yes, I can scan info at lightning speeds, but it’s time for everyone to DIY.  I do not know when the dump opens.  Or closes.  Or if it’s open on Sunday.   I don’t know when your favorite televisions shows are on, or if they’re a repeat, or a two-hour special.  I don’t know what to do with leeks or flax seeds and I can no longer operate the bread machine.  In fact, there are lots of things like that I don’t know.  Billions, even.

I am not Travelocity.  I do not memorize anyone’s flight schedules, either departing or arriving.   I do not memorize the airline either.  Yes, I used to do that, but I’m 60 now and my brain prefers to hold onto more important details, such as where I left my sunglasses and if I took my antidepressant today.

I am not Saint Anthony:  If you are three thousand miles away and have lost something, I cannot find it, even if I pray.

I am not Verizon; I don’t know why your cell phones are uncooperative.  I can barely operate my own and I don’t care when I can’t.

I am not Fios; you and the DVR must make peace with each other.  The remote is your friend, not your enemy.  There are only so many times I can say, “Push the red button to record.”

I am not psychic:  I don’t know what you did with your car keys.  Or your wallet.  Or the portable phones.  Or that piece of paper with someone’s name on it.  I do not know where the lemon that was on the top shelf of the refrigerator went to.  Or how old the Paul Newman salsa is.

I am not Gordon Ramsay.  Because I deal with three microwaves, five ovens, four refrigerators, two freezers, seven crockpots, three blenders and two food processors in three different states, I can’t instantly remember how to operate, clean or repair any of them.

I will, however, always be happy to make you a cup of coffee from the Keurig while we read the manuals, play with the remotes, find the phones, print out airline tickets, google, watch television and check to see what time it is.  Together.

Love, MorePie

Note:  Banjo Man thinks this is a little hostile and wants you all to know he is praying to Saint Anthony to help me find all of the patience I seem to have lost.

Posted in a more pie opinion, family, personal female whining | 2 Comments

sense of style

Posted on October 16, 2012 by is there any more pie?

It runs in the family.

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days 6 & 7 east: indiana, ohio, pennsylvania, football and home

Posted on October 15, 2012 by is there any more pie?

Indiana sunrise

Another long day on the road, but we were looking forward to stopping before 7 PM and getting ready to watch the Nebraska-Ohio State game on television at 8 PM. Little did we know what lay ahead.

We didn’t realize that this was a (a) Penn State football weekend, (b) Columbus Day weekend and (c) festivals of all kinds weekend in Pennsylvania. By 7 PM we were running out of options for a room and a tv, so Banjo Man checked out the televisions at the Super 8 and the Days Inn to see which had the best screen. He chose Super 8, so we checked into our room and then drove across the parking lot to something called Mama’s Dutch Restaurant or Dutch Inn or Mama’s Windmill Green Roof? We ate burgers and fries and escaped as soon as we could.

They were, sadly, out of apple dumplings.

Banjo Man wanted party food, but I convinced him there was no time to drive 3 miles to a grocery store before the game started.  After all, we had a small bag of potato chips and half a chocolate bar.  Also the two bottles of beer I brought from Idaho.  A plastic container of green tomatoes. Two dozen protein bars.  A can of Diet Coke.

We were all set.

Nebraska wasn’t.  At half time I ate the chocolate bar, put my ear plugs in and went to sleep. Banjo Man suffered through the whole miserable defeat with his two little bottles of beer and no salsa & Dorito chips.

Painful.

I have no pictures of Pennsylvania because I’m not a big fan of this state.  Nothing personal, it’s just hell to drive through no matter if you’re going east or west.  It’s endless.  ENDLESS.  There are no bison statues or weird tourist places.  I saw a billboard for a baseball bat factory tour.  I would have stopped for that, just to break up the monotony that is Pennsylvania.  We never drive through at a time when the antique malls are open, and I boycott Lancaster because of their puppy mill laws.  And I’m not a big fan of severe, dark Amish quilts.

day 7 east:

We didn’t get on the road until after 9 Sunday morning. Banjo Man grieved. I took a bath. We ate breakfast at a Burger King (sausage biscuits), which should illustrate how depressed Banjo Man was over this game. Suicide by sausage: no healthy oatmeal at the Super 8 lobby for him this morning.

A rainy day through New York and Connecticut, with traffic, but we were in RI before 4:00 Sunday afternoon.  Safe and sound, but a few pounds heavier.  The house looked great and the cool weather was welcome.  We were ready to stretch out on the couch and watch Amazing Race, so out came the popcorn popper and on went the pajamas.

The old folks are home.

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days 4 & 5 east: south dakota, minnesota, iowa, illinois, indiana

Posted on October 14, 2012 by is there any more pie?

beautiful states, nice people

Minnesota sunrise

day 5 east:  minnesota sunrise

This was taken outside of Albert Lea, MN, before we headed south through Iowa to hit the interstate.

This was taken right before my morning nap.

We continued on through Illinois and Indiana.

South Bend, Indiana was the Night of the Hockey Teams at the Hampton Inn.  I should write to that Hampton Inn to tell them what a great job they did.  And those who organized that tournament?  Despite the high spirits, pizza and a zillion 11 year old boys, the party was over at 10 PM.  Really.  It was as if someone pulled the plug.

The next morning at 6:30 we walked across the chips-covered carpet through a quiet lobby.

Impressive.  Especially if you’ve ever chaperoned fifth grade boys.

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another tough season

Posted on October 13, 2012 by is there any more pie?

Posted in family | Tagged | 5 Comments

day 3 east: montana, wyoming, south dakota

Posted on October 12, 2012 by is there any more pie?

Heading east to Wyoming:

I already told you about the snow and sleet in Billings. We eventually drove out of the worst of the weather. I slept through most of Wyoming.

You know you’re in South Dakota when you see statues.  I love those South Dakota statues.  The bigger the better!

Here’s a tourist stop that we won’t bother with again.

The food was pretty bad, the waitresses surly and the place wasn’t half as fun inside as the outside looked.  They did have a huge gift shop where I bought a couple of Christmas gifts, but we were glad to get back in the car and fight the South Dakota wind for a few more hours.

South Dakota

We stopped in one of the small towns along the interstate and browsed for a few minutes in an “antiques” shop. It was quite a jumble of stuff, but the woman working there told me she was a guide for antelope hunters and was taking a group out the next day. She’s been doing it for a long time. Banjo Man bought oatmeal cookies at the bakery next door and we got back on the road. My turn to drive, so we discussed antelope hunting for about 20 seconds before Banjo Man fell asleep.

We stopped early and spent the night in Rapid City, where Banjo Man always likes to point out the Howard Johnson’s hotel where one year I had a huge argument about room rates with the snotty little girl manning the reception desk. I normally will do anything to avoid conflict, but once in a while someone will insult me and oh, boy, watch out. This kid made the mistake of saying I didn’t know how to make internet reservations, which I figure I practically pioneered, so GAME ON, sweetheart!

Anyway, Banjo Man will never forget it, though I wish he would. There was lightning and thunder and blinding rain, which made finding another hotel at 8 PM a challenge, so I had to suck it up and compromise with the little twit, though we continued to glare at each other long after I made her call her manager at home.

Beware: if you make hotel reservations at the Howard Johnson’s website, the Howard Johnson’s hotel in Rapid City won’t recognize them and has “nothing to do” with the room rates you confirmed and paid for with a credit card eighteen hours before arriving.

Uh oh, I’m getting wound up again.  Note to self:  work on the “let bygones be bygones” stuff.

Please note:  We very happily stayed at the Hampton Inn this year.

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banjo man’s eye surgery

Posted on October 11, 2012 by is there any more pie?

Banjo Man is going to have surgery to remove a macular pucker today.

He is Mr. Rochester.  I am Jane Eyre.

Fortunately this will only last a few days and we won’t have to start applying for a seeing-eye dog.  Though a dog would be welcome.  Very welcome.

btw, at Bluegrass Camp there was a woman who was training a service dog, a yellow Lab with a laid back attitude towards music.  Clearly he’s heard banjos before.

Wake up, pup!  Banjo Man needs you!!!

****UPDATE****

Banjo Man did not have surgery; instead he had 2 hours of testing, after which the doctor said another opinion was needed so that Banjo Man didn’t have unnecessary surgery, as the “pucker” on his retina is so thin.  So the seeing eye dog can go back to sleep and I am going back to work.

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