adventure, friendship

The Tale of the Pizza Shop

I was craving pizza. A loaded pizza. Full of amazing toppings. Pepperoni that was crisp and curled. Onions that were cut just right. Green peppers for some color. Mushroom for flair. And I can’t forget the best meatball slices on the planet. That’s the pizza I’m craving. A pizza from a cozy mountain pizza spot named Twisted.

Twisted pizza is such a fitting name. Twisted with any toppings you desire. Twisting your tastebuds as you devour the pizza. Mmmmmm I wish you could smell the cheese and yummy toppings.

Twisted.

Twisted is how this story came about. The twisted tale of the pizza and a coke. A fountain coke no less. Oh the adventures we have. 2 chicks. 2 flipping cokes. A damn pizza and some sticky fingers. That’s all I got. No really, it gets so much better.

My cohort started this nightmarish episode on a frightful October night in a scary part of town that just happens to have the best pizza in town. It’s takeout only because of covid. She asked do I want a drink at the checkout? No I’m taking the pizza to go. We wait in the car for the pizza man to deliver the pizza. It seems like a long time because mountain time is like beach time….Sloooow.

A revelation hits her or she decides to speak about her annoyance. You know we don’t have any coke, she exclaims. If I’m having pizza I need a coke. What? I need a coke. You said no to coke. I really need a coke. Okay let me get a coke. No they only have bottled coke and I don’t drink bottled coke. Is this for real?

Do I need to get a fountain coke for you? Yup! Okay I’m waiting in the car for the pizza so off she goes to the inferior pizza place a few doors down in the same strip center…. yes it’s smart to have two pizza joints fighting for clients within 500 ft of each other, right? That might even sound a bit twisted.

Well the other joint has fountain cokes so there you have it. She is happy. I’m happy. But that’s not where the story ends…

She gets the coke. The lid is not quite the right size. The coke spills all over. Hence the sticky fingers noted above. A millions giggles later, she shakes her head at the price of the Dixie cup full of coke ($4) but that’s because you get free refills… but we don’t get any refills in the parking lot. Again that’s so twisted. 

Then she says geez, that place was a buffet. It’s the place the pandemic forgot. A salad bar with cottage cheese. So many items free for all. And it’s open to the public. Guess they missed the rules memo from covid. I just entered a petri dish of pizza establishments and and and. All for a damn coke she said. I sighed and said a flat ass diet coke at that with zero fizz. What the what.

Did I mention she actually got a diet coke? A flat flat ass, no tasting diet coke. All that effort for such a little return. And so we decided to eat the pizza in the car. It was that kind of night. A parking lot pizza party with no music and lots of chomping and a coke to wash it down.

How the evening ended up of a parking lot pizza party with a coke. Don’t you wished you lived the extravagant and twisted life of two chicks? And had the balls to write about it? I mean the meatballs since we are clearly 2 Chicks with endless ink in our pen.

challenges, nature

Stowaway

It had been a rough day.  The kind of day where you’re shuffling online files, trimming, uploading, then re-editing, reuploading in different places, and so on. I spent the afternoon chasing my tail, making no progress.

Finally, I walked away from a project that I had spent hours trying to figure out.  I was just too frustrated to finish.  It could wait until morning.

I gathered my things and loaded my shoulders with all my bags and other stuff, ready for the relief of an afternoon bike ride, then looked down. 

W.  T.   F.

I looked closer.  

?!?!?!

A scaly knot on my floor.  Curled up.  I touched it with my boot and sure enough it slithered.

Again, W T ACTUAL F. 

SQUEAL. 

Mind starts pinballing. Heart racing.  How do I get it out of here?  

Custodians are gone for the day.  Don’t have access to a broom and dustpan.  I can’t just leave it here.  IT’S. IN. MY. OFFICE.

I find a bowl and set it on top of the slithering striped shoelace.  Then I walk calmly down to see if a couple of my “country”-type colleagues are still here.  Nope, already headed home.
So, it’s just me.  And the scaly shoelace IN MY OFFICE.

I had to pace to gather my courage.  I finally picked up the bowl and there it was, my little sworn enemy.  And just like that I 

STOMPED

STOMPED

STOMPED

And screamed DIE.

DIE.

DIE.

Stop.  Was it dead?  (Poke).

NO.

STOMPSTOMPSTOMPSTOMPSTOMPSTOMP.

DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE.

And finally, I stopped, looked, and it was still.

Scooped it up with a file folder and dumped it in the woods. I was hyperventilating-ugly-crying-nose-running awful. So hard to calm down.

Then the what ifs? crept in.  I was in my office with a snake for who knows how long.  What if I had been bitten?  Or someone else?  Too much to think about.  Just be grateful it wasn’t worse.

You might be surprised to read that I like snakes.  Well “like” might be too strong…I’ll just say as I’ve gotten older I understand their role.  I know many of them are good and I just work around them when I see them on the farm.  It’s me living in their habitat not the other way around.  

Maybe that’s why it was so upsetting to find one IN. MY. OFFICE.

It can’t just slither under the rocks and disappear.  It was a showdown. She or me. 

Yes, I killed it and it made me sort of sad on top of the other huge knot of emotions.  I was a little less sad when I found out it was poisonous, but again relieved it had not been worse. 
I wondered, how did it get here?  Was it born here?  Are there more around the corner?  Or is a farm varmint trying to stowaway for a quick vacation? More under the car seat? I’m still on the lookout.

Thank goodness I chose boots over Birkenstocks that day.    

Just another animal adventure to add to the growing list. 

dare to be different

52 pickup

When I was a kid, I was one of those gullible types. (Ok, I still am, but that’s a different post). My older brothers enjoyed playing tricks on me. “Wanna play cards?” Of course, as the youngest, I always wanted to be invited to play by the older kids.

“Sure!” I replied.

“How about 52 pickup?”

“How do you play?”

Suddenly the whole deck of cards was thrown in the air. Jacks, deuces, aces all fluttering to the ground. “Thats 52 cards, now pick them up!” they’d say, laughing as they walked away.

And with a frown like a sad clown, I did.

Fast forward to adulting. Life is full of chores, duties, commitments. Most days are full of them.

For me, chores tend to become routines.

Grocery shopping Saturday. Meal prep Sunday morning. Cleaning Sunday afternoon.

Even little things have their routines. Every night when I get home I set up the coffee pot for the next day and either set out my gym / work clothes or pack my gym bag before I settle down.

Sometimes it’s almost like a challenge: Laundry goes in first thing when I get home from work on Friday. The challenge? I have to have all my clothes hung to dry by the time I leave for my gym class on Saturday morning. I have to stay alert to get this one done while I’m tired.

Edit the week’s blog posts on Sunday afternoon / evening so “publish” is all that’s left during a busy week.

At times, even my fitness routines become a part of it. 5:30 am CrossFit basically every day for a year. Before that it was working out after work. For a while it was run a 5k after work every Friday. 10 mile bike every Sunday morning.

For many parts of my life, I like routines. I like predictability. It keeps me on track. I get things done. When my meals for the week are packed and in the refrigerator Sunday afternoon, I feel calm and prepared.

Life isn’t stationary. Even in writing this I can see there are routines in my life that have come and gone. Commitments on Sunday afternoons shift cleaning to another slot on the weekly calendar. Waiting at sports practice provides opportunity for exercise of different times and types. Life keeps evolving and I shift and change and adapt. Small changes, small adjustments. What is important still usually gets done one way or another.

Once in a while life is more like a big brother and just asks you to play.

Next thing you know all your routines and commitments are tossed in the air and you get to pick them up, reassemble them into some sort of deck to play with. Chores to shuffle, meals to make, work to be done. But this time I was the one who tossed it all, and by choice.

Joys of weekend farm life shift Sunday’s chores further back. Editing blog posts later weekday evenings. Exercise as early in the morning as possible, sometimes at home. Laundry on Wednesdays and Sundays. Grocery shopping on Thursdays. Those cards are still the same, just shuffled differently.

Then there are the new cards. Furnishing a house. Farm chores. Helping run a new business. And don’t forget a couple of growing volunteer commitments, too. Some of these are wild cards, but they keep the game exciting.

I’m not usually one to gamble, but this new shuffle is keeping me on my toes. Learning, growing, creating a hand I’d bet on in spades.

3Splitz Farm

Dirt to Dreams

Some folks wonder what dreams are made of. For me my current dream is made of dirt. Or it at least starts with dirt or land but there is a vision behind the layers of dust, dirt, grass, rock and critters.
Today’s dream is agricultural at its roots with the seeds planted for future development over the long haul. It’s hard to explain but to just jot down the CliffsNotes of the vision without giving away the finish line is a great way to show a glimpse to others who maybe can’t see the path on their own. My motto has always been dream big and this is a great example to showcase.
Just a chick on her tractor with her faithful sidekick moving dirt in one way or another. A whole different level of badassery than you see on the weekdays but equally satisfying. How could that be? I’m working on my dream. I’m using my own blood, sweat and tears to build something that matters. The depth and breadth of the project is hard to quantify today but the process in itself of building/assembling the dream is priceless.
The people on the journey near and far who see the value of the dream and even participate in one way or another is magical. Sharing smiles is ever so treasured when on or around my dirt pile I call rustic paradise. This past weekend we had a family gathering. The memories made on the land, in the dirt were irreplaceable. My 80+ years young mom got to share in our country festivities and see a simple side of life. No hustle, no bustle, no TV, but somehow time goes by so fast.
Three generations of women sharing stories, memories, experiences on the dirt / land I incorporate in the big dream. For now this is just one example of the value within the land. There are many more from virtual connections, friend connectivity, farmily traditions and overall growth as people within this environment.
This weekend I dealt with snakes, ducks, rabbits, dogs and other critters. I came out unscathed and enjoyed every last minute. Even the frightful moment dealing with a venomous snake. And the irony of the snake picture is I stopped to get video proof of this snake to identify it. Now it appears to be a copperhead yet last time I wrote about a snake I noted I screamed dramatically. This time I didn’t but probably should have given the type of snake!
The good news is I lived to tell another story and hope that somewhere in the world somebody is enjoy my dream big stories. Signing off as a farm girl for now before I strap on my heels for the day job. Until next time.
3Splitz Farm, healthy hacks

The Herd Needs Feeding

Recently I’ve had exposure to group cooking or cooking for a group. How do you feed a herd (people), choose healthy options and keep many happy? It’s takes a miracle, resources, creativity and willingness to try new things.

I tried a breakfast casserole one weekend. It wasn’t prepared by me but it was tasty. It had Canadian bacon which is an alternate to greasy bacon. The meat was a protein alternative and it also had cheddar cheese as the cheese of choice. Two options I enjoyed but I would have chosen Colby cheese or traditional bacon. Exposure to this group feeding was positive. It was delicious. I tried something new and I now have a new recipe to use when I need to feed a group.

Meat mix bowls: easy to cook up some meat and you can vary the meat with spices. Taco flavor, spicy, saucy or whatever you like. Add in rice, cauliflower or whatever substance makes your bowl as a filler. Top with lettuce shreds, avocados, grilled peppers and onion. Season to your liking. You can dress it up with your cheese of choice, sour cream, salsa or whatever you like. Super easy to make and a fan favorite for many. Any time you can customize while feeling a herd you win big. Some variations are healthier than others but options are a big win for this meal.

If you need a cheap fix, spaghetti and meatballs is a good go-to staple but pretty boring and high on carbs. Another Italian option might be a lasagna. Layers and layers of goodness. Ricotta cheese, beef/sausage, veggies, sauce and seasonings. It’s a bit heavy but always a ton of goodness. Lasagna covers groups easily but may leave your group ready for a nap shortly after due to the carb loading. 

If you have any feed-the-herd recipes that are tasty, somewhat healthy and easy send us a note. We would love to try your favorite recipes and let you know how we liked them.
Fun options like variations of build your own pizza are always welcome since most folks adore pizza but don’t care for greasy options.

Now that I am hungry from writing about all this food I will sign off to eat a snack of white yogurt covered pretzels for my semi-sweet treat of the day. Bon appetit!