Lahaina Drivel from Yours Truly

Maui is an island paradise. Beauty captured in every direction is astounding. The mountains and valleys just a mile or two away are incredibly green and rugged. The lush farmland is also astonishing, especially near Lahaina as it is known for little rain and hot days.

However much greenery and lush landscape eye candy there is, unfortunately there are hazards to casual sleeping-in-mornings and lazy island times. They are known as the roosters of Maui. They are even referred to as feral chickens. Previous to this island adventure, I had only heard of feral cats. You would think with the food prices here, free chicken walking around would be less common than they are. But no. They are everywhere.

There is one happy rooster who lives somewhere near my sister’s house where we are staying. Even with my earplugs in I can hear him each morning strutting his stuff and cock-a-doodle-doing to his little heart’s content.

Still being half on AZ time, I am awake each morning before 7:00. Those who know me, know how unusual this is, but sadly it is true. As I laid in bed these past mornings listening to the bird brained alarm clock, I decided to time the crows… you know, just to see if I was exaggerating the frequency of Mr. Fog Horn Leg Horn‘s clucks. He proudly announces morning’s arrival every 8 to 21 seconds. Seriously. Over and over and over and over. For HOURS.

I started dreaming of where I could purchase a gun on the island, or at least a sling shot.

Then this morning, the crowing sounded like he was sitting on the headboard of my bed! I grabbed the camera and went outside to capture the beast for posterity. It was our first encounter of each other. To my dismay, he would not come out of the shade… but oh was he a pretty bird! Opalescent green breast feathers, royal blue hues in his tail, deep red and bright orange neck feathers all mixed together in a glorious display of pageantry. Irritatingly loud pageantry.

Made me want to go eat at Chick-fil-A! Or Kentucky Fried Chicken! Or Church’s Fried Chicken! Or even a McChicken with a side of chicken nuggets at McDonalds!

Pray for me. I didn’t realize I had anger issues to this degree!  LOL!

ICE ICE Baby

Yet another trip into Walmart to complete my day.  I swear we should have bought stock in that store when it opened!  It doesn’t matter if I have a list…. and I remembered to bring my list…. and I buy EVERYTHING on my list…. I still need to go back to Walmart later that same day for SOMETHING still in the dang store.  It’s true.  The store sucks me in.  Every time.  Like a fly to flypaper.  Why do they have so many stinkin things that I think I need?  Or the kids need?  Or my husband needs?  Or the dogs need?  Good gravy.

It was a non-list-quick-trip that hardly called for a cart.  But then, it was 12:30 p.m., and we all know what that means.  The rotisserie lemon-pepper chickens that came out of the slow cooker at 8:45 a.m. are now HALF PRICE!  “Go get us a cart, son.”  Glory be.  There were five plump birds with my name all over them.  I always hate it when someone comes and stands in line behind me when I’m filling up the entire bottom of the cart with scrumptiously delicious smelling game hens with $2.98 stickers on them.  No, I won’t share.  I have four children, a husband and two dogs, for Pete’s sake.  And I don’t have to cook the birds.  Hello!  We live in Phoenix.  Not turning on the oven is a prime idea for eight months of the year.  I never make eye contact with other shoppers when I’ve hit the poultry prize.

With the cart full of discounted dinner, we grabbed the few other things that I really came in Walmart for…. fish for fish tacos, avocados for fish tacos, cabbage for fish tacos and cilantro for fish tacos.  I was drooling simply thinking about lunch!  Then, lo and behold, the ICE drinks were in a HUGE display right at the front of the store… sucking me in again.  Pink grapefruit ICE drink will be served in heaven, people.  I prefer to purchase this pop at Costco in a case, but we weren’t in Costco with the cases.  We grabbed 12 of the skinny bottles (that are ridiculously easy to knock over) and headed for the cashier.

The clouds parted, the skies opened, and we had less than 20 items for the express lane!  (Because 12 ICE drinks are ONE item….. ICE drinks. Thankyouverymuch!)  While we patiently waited for the kind elderly lady to scan our groceries, my extremely helpful son was unloading the cart onto the non-conveyor belt counter….. the cart of skinny, easy to knock over bottles of ICE.  Yes, you guessed it, one went down.  And it didn’t go down pretty.  It went down with a BOOM and a pressurized fountain and a shriek or two and then a shower for my three family members and an elderly cashier.  The front of my dress was soaked …. soaked through to my bra.  ICE ran down my arms and legs.  It was splashed on my head and face.  My purse was dripping, as well as my daughter, son and the not-so-kind-anymore cashier.  The walls of the lane on both sides were drenched.  The floor was a lake of grapefruit.  All the groceries on the non-conveyor belt were wet.  I still can’t believe how one little bottle of juice did that much damage.

The poor cashier did not see the humor in the situation as I have learned to see over the years of having four children and ridiculously embarrassing messes happen in my presence because of my four children.  We mopped up as much as we could, but our lane was shut down, blocked off with a cart and paper towel was spread far and wide.  When we were finally done paying and dripping, I remarked to the little old lady, “Well, I hope your day goes better from here on out!”  Haha….  Not so.  She snapped back, “It BETTER!”  Made me chuckle.  Maybe she had a big date after her shift????

A Chicken in ROSS

After reading my sister-in-law and her sister’s blog, informalmatriarchs.com, I was reminded of a time when there was a chicken in ROSS.  You know the store…. brand names for less.  Yes, a CHICKEN!  I was in the store solo searching for a cool t-shirt for a 16-year-old young man.  (I guess they aren’t really a boy anymore at 16…)  I searched diligently… seriously diligently for about 20 minutes and finally decided on a cool gray T with a large silver cross on the front and scrolly designs all around it.  It was really cool.  Seriously cool.  Satisfied, I hung it on the handle of my cart and went to have a looksie in the women’s department.  It has escaped my memory what I was looking for over there, but I obviously found something worth trying on, because I know I ended up in the fitting rooms.  Upon my exit from the fitting rooms, the ultimately cool gray t-shirt with the silver cross and the scrolly designs was M.I.A.   Some deranged soul took it from my cart handle whilst it was unattended.  I inquired of the fitting room attendant, but she was no help at all. 

Now in my humble ROSS shopper opinion, this was breaking the ROSS code of ethics… stealing items from a cart that is obviously parked in front of the dressing room… belonging to someone else.  I was more than miffed.  I retraced my steps to the men’s t-shirt rack to see if it happened, by some strange coincidence, to reappear.  I knew it was the ONLY one like it because I had previously looked at every single t-shirt on that aisle.  To my dismay, it was not there.  THEN…. I happened to notice a 20-something guy and his girlfriend in the next row…. and he HAD MY SHIRT IN HIS HAND!  It was HIM!  He was a thief!  Someone call security!  There’s a robber in the men’s department by the cool t-shirt rack.

I’m usually a woman who speaks my mind with the greatest of ease, but for some strange passive-aggressive reason, I did not.  Believe me, many lines went through my steaming mind of appropriate and non-appropriate things that I could say to him and his thief-loving girlfriend.  But for some unknown reason I chickened out.  I let him get away with ROSS robbery.  I picked another shirt and went home… still steaming mad.  Why did I chicken out?  I’m not sure.  Mr. Thief’s girlfriend looked like she could probably take me, that may have been part of it.  But still.  It was not right….. but sometimes it’s OK to let people be wrong…. to not get beat up. Right?

Pre-Computer Life…

OK, how in the wide world did we survive before computers????  (Mine are still down…. grrrrr.)   Seems our hard drive gave up the ghost.  I couldn’t renew library books or movies…. and the movies are $2 per DAY for each day late.  We had eight of them….. that’s $16 per day, for those who are mathily challenged.  Thankfully I was on top of that one!  Then, glory be, there were F-I-V-E inserts full of $365 worth of coupons in today’s paper…. but can I label them without my Coupon Sense site???? NO!  And where are eggs on sale?  Rick bought me a dozen, but accidentally threw them on the floor in front of the fridge instead of putting them in the fridge.  I’m so lost without my electronic friends.

Anyway, we are still breathing and surviving without internet access.  Hey, wait!  Doesn’t the PSP go online???  I could at least find information…  I’m off to steal my son’s PSP.  No more Madden ’08.  It’s Coupon Sense, baby.

Aaaaand,  along with the majority of North American citizens… Rick and I started an “eat healthier” plan on Jan. 1st.  Well, I did, anyway.  He joined, by his own will power, on Jan. 3rd at 8:00 a.m., albeit half-hearted. I think he went off the plan on Jan. 3rd at 4:30 p.m., but the jury is still out on that one.  He started again this morning… and was off by 1:30 p.m.  He ate some pasta with cheese sauce that was not on the plan…. he told me the pasta looked like chicken.  See what I’m dealing with here?  A blind man.  We did consume some all-beef dogs without the buns, but Rick had to keep his bun on his plate to make it appear that there was more food at his disposal.  I think I’m a nervous, emotional eater.  He’s definitely a visual eater.  We distracted him and removed it eventually…. so it wouldn’t start looking like chicken.  Keeve, our 10 year old, confiscated the bun and put a churro inside.  (Those are deep-fried dough sticks covered with cinnamon and sugar.)  The first ever churro dog.  (Disgusting.)

Churros

So, YOU, my dear readers are my new accountability group.  I’ll post my weekly losses here for you all to analyze and scrutinize and envy.  The first week’s always a good one with bloated water loss…. please stand by for my Thursday posts.  Intimate details will be posted for the entire universe to view at their discretion.  Pray!