Category Archives: Lifestyle

A Sweet Tuesday

The Tuesday before last, while Mr. None of the Above (my husband, AKA my “hubs”) was out of town for work, I had myself a lovely day.

My work schedule (it makes me so happy to type those words, you guys) is 9-4 Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This means on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I am free to do as I please, especially when the Mr. is out of town.

I was so grateful for that day.

That Tuesday was the first day of the fall season here in Minnesconsin that felt like fall. It was overcast and about 60 degrees out.

A perfect day to do one of my very favorite things in the world: bake.

This past summer, I published a blog post about the rhubarb patch in my front yard. I found some great recipes for said rhubarb, which included a delectable and simple-to-make rhubarb sauce. In that post, I mentioned a recipe I found for orange bread. It was handwritten by my mom, bequethed to her by her father. Grandpa Frazer, it turns out, was quite the baker. I wrote about how I’d like to make that orange bread “one of these days” and pair it with the rhubarb sauce.

A slice of the finished product!

So, on that sweet Tuesday, while listening to some chill tunes on my Google nest, I did just that. Gosh, it was such an enjoyable experience. A simple pleasure. Very K.I.S.S. of me.

The bread, as well as the rhubarb sauce, was delectable. It was a beautiful pairing of sweet and tart.

Here’s the recipe:

Mix together 1 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon shortening. Add 1 egg. Add in 2 cups flour, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1 teaspoon baking powder, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Once that’s all mixed up, add 1/3 cup (and per my mom’s instructions, add water to make 1 cup-or just add 2/3 cup of water-ha ha!). Grate some orange peel and add it to the mix. Once it’s all nice and mixed up, put it into a greased and floured bread pan and bake for 1 hour at 350 degrees.

Now, for the rhubarb sauce:

There’s not much to it at all, as you don’t need to do much measuring.

Put 1 1/2 to 2 cups diced rhubarb, a little sugar, a little water, and a bit of orange or lemon juice. Cook it up on the stove, smooshing the fruit as it cooks (unless you like chunky fruit in your sauce). I added some sliced strawberries for a little extra sweetness, but it’s not necessary.

As I said earlier in this post, while baking that Tuesday (I made banana chocolate chip muffins that day too), I enjoyed listening to some chill tunes. Along with some of my favorites (The Avett Brothers and Dawes), I hummed and sang along to songs from the great Minnesota rock band, the Jayhawks.

Here’s one of their best songs, IMHO. Enjoy!

Wrapping up Summer and Forging into Fall

My new reality began yesterday, as I’m back in the workplace after a sweet hiatus (aka Gap Year). I prepped myself ahead of time for a few days by setting my alarm for earlier and getting my butt in gear within a more reasonable amount of time. My closet has been over-hauled as a new job means work appropriate clothes needed to be excavated.

I get to wear my nicer clothes again! One of the simple things to be grateful for.

I think this job is going to suit me very well. My new co-workers welcomed me with open arms. I was given a new magnetic name tag which made it more real. I’m excited to go back tomorrow!

Fall doesn’t “officially” begin until September 23rd. Yet, with the leaves beginning to morph from green to gold and reddish hues here, along with starting my new job, it is starting to feel like fall to me.

All of the time I got to hang out with family, friends, and neighbors these past few months made for a great summer.

I’ve been aiming to include more photos in these blog posts. Due to struggles with getting our internet to comply with my frequent “save to drive” attempts, I don’t have as many photos as I’d like for sharing. Just a little downside to this country/lake lifestyle. But here’s a few showing the highlights from our first full summer here in Minnesconsin.

My Splashing Strawberry from a “Sip and Paint” experience at Dragonfly Winery
Mr. “None of the Above” (formerly known in this space as “Hubs”) and me riding the bus to the Minnesota State Fair
Weird Barbie at the Minnesota State Fair
View of our lake on our maiden voyage with the new pontoon
Five frightened baby raccoons climbing a tree in our backyard
Floating and Motorboating with the fam, Labor Day weekend 2023 (Jimmy Buffet was on repeat all day) #RIPJimmy

My daughter and I will be meeting up with my sister and one of our cousins next weekend to visit family in central Minnesota. We’ll be staying overnight at our uncle Jim’s cabin. This has been an annual trip for my sister and cousin. Every single year, as we were always living too far away, I was envious of them for getting to go. No more!

There’s other things happening in these parts over the next several weeks as well. Namely, a couple of fall festivals to check out. I’m looking forward to enjoying these with my family and neighborhood friends.

A few blog posts ago, I mentioned that I was making a list of all of the local places I want to check out here in Minnesconsin. I got a good start on that list and intend to get cracking on it ASAP. Cross your fingers that I will be able to capture great pics and memories to enjoy and share in future posts!

And now, I present to you my favorite, well one of my favorites, Jimmy Buffet songs.

The One Year Anniversary of House Number 8

Last Saturday was our 1 year homeowner anniversary.

If you’re new to my blog, here’s the story of why I refer to it as “house number 8”.

What an enlightening year it’s been. Another “Gap Year” for me (a year in which I was unemployed). Similar, yet different, to the “Gap Year” I enjoyed when we moved to Colorado in 2016.

Hubs and I got to experience a full 4 seasons here, for which I have much gratitude. Here’s a few images of the seasons in this beautiful place that we get to live in.

The primary difference between these two “Gap” years is that the one I’m in now is quieter. It didn’t start out that way, with me caring for our grandson while he was struggling with emotional and behavioral challenges. Over time, gratefully, his village of supporters grew and he began to thrive.

The more recent calm and quiet of my day-to-day life has given me the opportunity to pause and reflect. To sit with my thoughts and get curious about them. It’s led me to more fully embrace “K.I.S.S.”, my favorite mantranym, which, in this instance, stands for “Keep It Simple Sister”.

What does that look like? How am I consiously keeping things simple?

It looks like making meals at home that don’t have an inordinate amount of ingredients or steps. It looks like breaking up household chores in smaller increments. It looks like planning and executing un-fussy get-togethers with our neighbors. It looks like leaning into a more frugal lifestyle by consciously spending less money and time shopping. It looks like not over-committing socially, to allow for time to marinate in the peace and quiet of this country/lake life.

I realize this might sound boring to you all, but it works for me as well as my Hubs. A simple life=a happy life for me and mine.

As we celebrate our 1 year ownership of this home, the “Gap Year” that I’ve been in, here in Wisconsin on the edge of Minnesota (aka Minnesconsin), is drawing to a close. Employment is coming to me soon. I’m ready for it.

I start a new part-time job as an office assistant in a local non-profit next Wednesday. I feel really good about this new chapter of my life.

The most gorgeous flower bouquet ever, courtesy of my wonderful in-laws to congratulate me on the new job

These lifestyle changes I’ve made (and there’s more yet to be made, mind you) in the last year are sure to serve me well as I make my return to the work force.

I am grateful, grounded, and geared-up.

A Radar Adventure Story

Our beloved 5-year-old dog, Radar, is so happy with his life here in Minnesconsin. Living here, he gets to run and play outside, sometimes without a leash. He gets to monitor all the little critters, the ones with wings and the ones with bushy tails, from our sun porch each day (aka Radar’s room).

Last week, Hubs was out of town for work. Radar and I were here, left to our own devices.

On Tuesday, as I’m sitting at the dining room table poking around WordPress, I got a call from our neighbor across the road, Mike. He said “Hey Rhonda, it looks like your pontoon is floating in the bay. If you need any help with it, I’m here, just let me know”.

Yikes! I thought. How could that have happened? Hubs tied it up very securely to our dock after our last boat ride. The next thought I had was “Where are the boat keys?”. I called Hubs, who, thankfully, answered right away. He tells me (of course) he’s got the boat key, but there’s a spare in the “cubby” under the steering wheel. Inside of the boat.

Really? How was I supposed to get into our boat, if it’s floating in the bay?

So, Radar and I headed to the dock to check things out. Mike was already there, on the other side of our little bay. I couldn’t make out everything he said, because of the distance between us, but I was grateful he was there nonetheless.

Thank goodness that it was not our pontoon boat out there, floating in the bay. It was our next door neighbor’s. I texted him, knowing he’d be at work (about an hour away) so he’d know his boat was adrift in the bay. As I told him, it wasn’t necessarily going anywhere. He thanked me, I let Mike know I’d contacted him, and then Mike proceeded to get into his small fishing boat, and pull our neighbor’s pontoon and tie it up to the nearest dock.

Neighbors “neighboring” is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?

As this all transpired, Radar was having a ball. He grabbed a toy, ran around like the nutjob he is, back and forth between our backyard and the two closest neighbors. Running up and down each dock, smiling and panting all the while. But he then did something I wasn’t anticipating.

He ran onto our dock, reached the end of it, looked around for a second, and then jumped into the lake. In the year that we have lived here in Minnesconsin, I haven’t seen him do that.

He sunk. My heart sunk at the same time. Then his head popped back up, he started his doggie paddling, and made his way to the left side of our dock. Which, of course, is thick with long, green reeds. He’s slipping and sliding, trying to gain some traction so he could make his way up onto the solid ground above, but he’s not going anywhere. He then dips himself under the dock, which really freaked me out.

Thoughts going through my head in this moment included “is he going to get stuck in the muck?” and “am I going to have to jump in and pull him out?”. Then, as my heart is fiercely pounding inside my chest, he pops out the other side. He struggles a bit with the reeds, which, no surprise, are also on the right side of our dock. But he managed to gain enough traction to get out of that mess and onto the ground above.

Whew!

Then he smiles, excessively shakes his body to get rid of all that water, and runs up the hill towards our house.

He was so proud of himself for his adventure that afternoon. I could hardly be angry with him. Needless to say, he got a bath that night. And we both slept like babies.

The Big D, Travel, and Me

The search for part-time work here in Minnesconsin has begun in earnest for me. Part of the search involved me going through every nook and cranny of this house to find my college transcripts, per a prospective employer’s request.

Ugh. I scoured through boxes and file cabinets all for naught. The job opening was taken down before I got a chance to request my transcripts from my alma mater.

What would be found in my college transcripts, because I remember and I’m not proud of it, is the “D” I got in Geography my freshman year.

It’s curious, I think, as a person who’s always been enthusiastic about travel, that this was my worst subject in college. I would have hoped that my interest in travel would have pushed me to do better in this course. Yet, my near-failure of this course may just be how I’m wired. I recently learned from my sister that she also stinks at Geography. We both also have no sense of direction. GPS was a Godsend for people like us.

Anyway, this all got me thinking more about travel. For so long I’ve been telling everyone I know and people I just met how much I want to visit Europe. England to begin with, as I’ve got a niece who lives there with her husband and kids and I know she’d love to show us the sites. She’s currently hosting her niece who flew in after graduating from high school in Minnesota (what kid wouldn’t love to have an auntie that cool?). Yet, at the moment, it doesn’t appear that travel to Europe is going to happen for us in the foreseeable future. However, there’s no doubt in my mind that it will happen at some point.

However, there are many locations within the U.S. that I’ve never seen before. Places Hubs hasn’t been to either. As domestic travel generally is less costly and requires less time off work, due to the distance differences, I think it’s time for us to consider where exactly we would want to go and what we’d want to see when we get there.

What places would you like to visit in the U.S. someday?

Off the top of my head, I can tell you that I would like to visit the following places in the U.S. (in no particular order):

  • Austin, TX (specifically to check out the art scene and Austin City Limits)
  • Cleveland, OH (Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, people!)
  • North Carolina. A friend and sorority sister from college lives there and it seems lovely.
  • New York City (to be in the audience of SNL, see Times Square, Broadway, and more)

I think it’s time for me to assemble that puzzle I bought earlier this summer of the U.S. map. That’ll inspire me even more, giving me more ideas of places I want to visit. There are 50 states, and I’ve only visited 18 of them.

And don’t let me forget my most asinine hifalutin outlandish lifelong travel dream of the two of us getting ourselves an RV and driving through all 50 states. At a sort of leisurely pace. Yes, outlandish. But what an adventure too, right? But. Age.

But I digress, as one does at 56, perhaps. Though probably it’s just me.

Yet, taking it down to an elemental level, we’ve still only lived here for a year. There’s a shitload of places we haven’t ever been to within just a 1-2 hour drive from home.

My goal is to start rectifying that.

Once I hit the publish button on this post, I will be starting a list. It will include all of the places around these parts which I’ve not yet visited. Then, one by one, I’ll visit them. Heck, maybe I’ll even find some images of these places and slap them on a vision board for reference.

Then I will work on that U.S. map puzzle and come up with a new list.

Here’s a fun little video about travel and adventure from my youth:

And the song that inspired the title of this blog post:

***Header image of Cascade Falls courtesy of https://www.startribune.com/daytrip-osceola-wis/322524331/#4

Painting Rocks

Are you a die-hard list maker like me?

If so, you probably find list-making to be a useful self-help tool. A way to keep things organized, in black and white, to check off as you go. To keep you on track and focused. It’s a good way to manage stress.

Sometimes I make a one day “to-do” list, and sometimes it’s a week long “to-do” list. If it’s an especially busy weekend coming up, I’ll create a “to- do list” for that too.

One interesting thing I’ve realized, however, is that often, at the end of the day, I’ve checked off everything on my “to-do” list except for the “non-essential” tasks. The kind of tasks that are just for me. They’re personal. They don’t benefit anyone but me. The fun stuff.

I put these tasks on my lists thinking that will “make” me do them. But I’ve learned that it doesn’t work that way. I often carry the “just for me” tasks into the next day. Then the next and the next. And sometimes I get to a point where I just stop putting those things on my lists altogether.

One recent example of this is painting rocks. I published a post a while back where I mentioned painting rocks as vegetables to be placed in our gardens. I ordered a set of acrylic paints months ago, with the notion that my grandson and I would use them together when I was watching him in the afternoons. Then, before I knew it, my daughter found a babysitter who lives much closer to her, and he no longer needed to come to my house after his day program/school.

I loved the idea of playing with these paints. Not that I’m some kind of talented artist. I’m not. But, now that I’m older and wiser I don’t care that I’m not talented. It’s totally beside the point. Painting original things is fun. It’s meditative. My mom was a great (non-professional) artist. She painted rocks herself back in the ’70s. I remember one in particular, which was a bowl of fruit. It was intricate and colorful and I sure wish I had come across it after she passed so I could have it as a memento.

Several weeks ago, after having “paint rocks” on my to-do lists since May, I went outside and picked a few decent-sized, flat-ish rocks. They sat in my basement, unadorned, until two weeks ago. The acrylic paint set was housed in my dining room cupboard, unopened.

That was the day I just decided I was going to paint those damn rocks. It was time to check it off my “to-do” list to ensure I would not abandon the idea of doing it altogether.

So I put up the plastic folding table which I, long ago, designated for arts and crafts with my grandson. I grabbed those three rocks, opened up the paints (oh so many pretty colors), got out those cheap plastic paint brushes the kid and I would use for water color pictures and simply painted them.

It felt good. Like I was giving myself a hug. I let my mind drift as I squeezed droplets of colors on a paper plate. I didn’t have any particular vision of what I wanted these rocks to look like. I just took the colors that pleased me the most and went with the flow.

I’ve got other items on my revolving “to-do” list that I infrequently get to. Those things are often self-care-related, like giving myself a pedicure. Or reading a book in the afternoon. Or messaging someone that I’d like to get to know better.

You’d think that being an unemployed empty-nester, I’d be engaging in all sorts of personally fulfilling activities. Maybe I just need to manage my time better. Get up earlier. Cut out the t.v. watching at night. Perhaps.

For now, though, I think for just one day-and soon-I will start my day by doing one of these more fun, self-serving, activities and push any of those “essential” tasks to later in the day, or even…the next day.

Simple Country Drives

Over the weekend, after spending time perusing handmade wares at a local arts and crafts fair with my SIL, I decided to extend my alone time by taking the long way home.

It was delicious. It gave me a sense of gratitude for the beauty of this area we live in. It relaxed me. It soothed my soul. It felt so freeing.

This song, by the marvelously talented Yola, came into my mind as I cruised along the two-lane country roads. It’s fine by me if you don’t continue reading beyond this; especially if you take my advice, which is to watch the video or simply close your eyes and listen to its goodness.

As I was tooling around in our Tacoma that day, I was reminded of summers when I was growing up. Sometimes my dad would up and decide that we were “going for a ride”. Not with any destination in mind, though sometimes a trip to the Dairy Queen occurred. Dad would get his peanut buster parfait or a hot fudge sundae, and I would get my favorite, a buster bar.

We’d sit in silence, or sometimes with the a.m. country radio station on, playing Kenny Rogers, Alabama, and the like.

We would chit-chat, my dad and I, driving the “loop” in our town and we’d meander our way in Dad’s brown Ford Thunderbird through the country roads and just cruise.

Priceless and peaceful memories.

I sure love my simple and intentional “country” life here in Minnesconsin.

Falling Short and Moving On

I do not want this blog post to be a pity party. I am not going to wallow whatsoever. Everything is fine. I’m ready to move on.

Here’s the thing: my blog posts have not been terribly consistent. I skipped publishing last week because of my garage sale. I just did not have the time or the energy to come up with a blog post.

So, I fell short. And not only with blogging.

I told the gal on the phone when I was placing an ad in our local free “shopper” publication that “hopefully I’ll make more than” the cost of the ad. Well, I did that. Just not by much.

As they say, “The joke’s on me”.

My goal going into this garage sale was to make myself some money. I looked upon it as a personal fundraiser. Yet, I fell short.

No matter. Seriously. I benefitted from having this garage sale in other ways. More important than cold hard cash.

Like the fun “girl time” I had in the garage the night before with my neighbor and my sister-in-law. We enjoyed margaritas as we chatted and laughed, pricing stuff late into the night.

During the two-day sale, I had lots of interactions with other neighbors as well, and I learned a few things about the lake and our little neighborhood.

SIL and I re-purposed the crappy old stool one of our neighbors put out on the road the day before.

We giggled along with the kiddos and their parents that came in when the kids discovered my “Badass” (from the Jen Sincero book which I love) buzzer. You hit it once and it says (in Jen’s voice) “You can do eeet!”. Hit it again and it says “Do what you love!”. A third hit exclaims”Feed fear a suck-it sandwich!”, a fourth hit gets you “You create your reality!”, then these goofy (yet worthy) affirmations conclude with “You’re a badass!”

Yes, in this process I inadvertently taught my “bonus” grandson (daughter’s boyfriend’s 3-year-old) a naughty word. Oops.

The buzzer didn’t sell. I think I’m going to keep it. I suspect it will come in handy someday.

I also came up with another idea: to sell my stuff on Facebook Marketplace. There’s still quite a bit of stuff left, obviously, and selling it this way seems much easier than my previous method. Additionally, being the student that I am, I am eager to learn new-to-me social media skills.

Now it’s time to share the most appropriate song for the state I’m in after this experience. It’s “the worst song ever” per my 9 year-old-grandson.

The Latest Question

Is rhubarb a fruit or a vegetable?

This is what my brain started to wonder about a couple of weeks ago.

The visual from my yard that prompted this initial question:

This is one bush? Or is it simply called a plant?

I’m proud to say that while I was tempted to say it’s a fruit (based on my association of rhubarb to sweet baked goods), just before I clicked enter when I put that question into Google search, I thought “no, it’s a vegetable”. I think it’s because it grows in the ground.

It’s not uncommon for a question answered to lead to another question, which is what happened next.

Because of course, I have no idea what to do with it. I fancy myself a maven of the kitchen, but rhubarb is not something that has ever been in my repertoire. My vague recollection of rhubarb, as I don’t think Bonnie (my mom) grew it in her backyard garden, is that it’s not pleasant to eat raw. That must have been someone else’s garden. It tasted like sour celery. I do have memories, however, of enjoying it baked in cake or muffins.

So, I proceeded on a quest for “best practices” for all things rhubarb. My walking buddy/neighbor, who is far more knowledgeable than I of all things gardening, told me last week that I ought to be picking it within the next couple of weeks.

Time was of the essence, and because I think it’s more fun to crowd- source certain questions than it is to Google it out, I turned to Facebook.

I learned that cutting the stalks is a no-no. Doing so prevents it from growing back next year. I was told by many to not eat the leaves as they are poisonous (not like it would occur to me to eat them in the first place). Freezing the cut-up stalks was a common piece of advice, which I will be following. My Facebook friends were enthusiastic about strawberry rhubarb jam and pies too.

One response was via DM from a friend from our old neighborhood in La Crosse. She had just pulled her rhubarb stalks out of her garden and was in the process of cooking them down with water and sugar to make sauce when she happened upon my query on Facebook. She told me she freezes the sauce to pour over ice cream, yogurt, or cake in the winter months. She also shared that she makes a “mean” rhubarb gin and tequila. I’m not a gin fan, but that sure sounds like a creative use for this vegetable doesn’t it?

I also perused Bonnie’s recipe box and found a few different recipes for cake, muffins, and pie. I love seeing her handwriting on these cards. It conjures up her voice for me, which is bittersweet. Kind of like rhubarb, I suppose.

The surprise bonus for me was the anecdotal information Bonnie provided on some of the recipe cards. The “Mom” in the recipe referred to as “Mom’s Wonderful Rhubarb Cake” was Bonnie’s mom, my Grandma Pearl. I gathered this from Bonnie writing “just super good and mom doesn’t esp. like rhubarb”. Another recipe card I found among the rhubarb recipes in Bonnie’s recipe box was for orange bread. She noted at the top of the card “Dad’s”. That would be her dad, my Grandpa Fritz.

I’m thinking rhubarb sauce would be quite delicious drizzled on top of this orange bread. I’ll report back once I’ve tried making it.

Leaning Into Spring Organizing

Yesterday went differently than I intended. I really am ok with that. I actually enjoyed myself.

I had mistakenly believed that I needed 1 1/2 hours, max, to put away the winteriest clothes in my closet. I didn’t think about it beyond that.

So, surprisingly (not), it took me upwards of 4 hours.

Because it turns out that I still possessed a buttload of Spring and Summer, mostly recycled (approximately70% of which I purchased at thrift stores) garments.

You know, items that I can start wearing relatively soon. It made no sense to only pull out my winter sweaters and heavy long pants and put them away. After all, the Spring/Summer wardrobe was taking up room in bins and old suitcases stored in one of our basement closets.

Taking those lighter, happy-hued pieces out of the bins was necessary to have room for the winter stuff. And, clothes horse that I am, I will no doubt be schlepping myself to a local thrift store before too long.

I’m kind of addicted to them. Thrifting makes me happy.

Inspired by the still-quite-chilly-out there-yet-the-grass-is-green, the sky is blue, and the sun is shining vibe, I leaned into the task. I got some exercise by going up and down the basement stairs like a dozen times. I listened to music, which I streamed on my ‘lil Nest. It was a chill, all-Current from MPR kinda afternoon.

Of course, I tried a lot of items on for size. Fortunately, much of it still fit. That which didn’t or that which no longer held any appeal to me, I tossed to the side. To sell in my garage sale in June.

My intention when I woke up yesterday morning, in addition to putting away those winter clothes, was to spend time working on my next blog post. Behind the scenes here these last few weeks, I’ve been writing a lot.

However, the anxiety about what specifically I was going to blog about this week got in my way. Or maybe I let it get in my way. We all have ways we sabotage ourselves, right?

Anyway. Yesterday, the simple act of cleaning out and organizing my wardrobe was good for me. I cleared my head, made progress and got myself pumped up for all that awaits me once Spring starts “springing”.

An array of veggies Hubs got started for our gardens