I've told you once

So much going on, so little I have wrote.

Of late, I have been working away in the fields filled with the tender and loving thistle plant, who by now I am completely sure will be my soulmate. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and ended indeed was the life of the thistle plant on all of the pasture land that we roamed. I might even go as far to say that I'll miss it. Ok, I won't go that far, that'd be quite a venture. No, it was the great company for this past week and a half that has made it such a pleasure, and a delight of course. It taught me hard work, sweat, blood in some cases (it's not like your everyday pasture doesn't come with jungle cats y'all!), and tears (of joy, at seeing more thistle in the distance). I noticed an ad on craigslist for help with thistle nearby, and I most certainly picked that up, for I must continue my thistle streak.
On another note, cleaning has engulfed my life. Is it sad that I completely washed and waxed my dad's car merely because I was annoyed at all of the bugs on the front bumper? Yeah, a great 3-hour time waster. But in the process, I talked to my neighbor who just so happens to be somewhat famous and I was led on another adventure in history to Gordon Parks, who if you don't know, directed Shaft among many other things. It's amazing what one event will lead to. I know this doesn't make much sense at all, but it's quite a hoot in my mind! I'll quit bothering you for now, I'm going to go wash my car, because that seems to be the most interesting thing I could possibly do on a Saturday! Stay warm!

Thistle

Ain't this weather somethin' fierce. One day it was plum rainin' sideways, tearin' trees down to their roots, and the next it's hotter than a Texas summer out on the cattle ranch. I say! Some time it sho' is.
My apologies for the absence in literature. I have been taking to the hills of late, literally. I've put my skills and convictions to work in the form of cutting musk thistle, is what I do believe it is called:

"Oh hi Mr. Hand, would you kindly screw off?"

That is what the devil's work looks like, it's name is musk thistle. Gloves are a must, but even then, this thistle presents quite a "prickly" situation, if you know what I mean. It's quite a joy on the hands. 

In other news, Little Sweden is still boring! For all of you not familiar with my town, that is in no way breaking news, it's old hat in fact. However, in one foul swoop of an attempt to garner attention and attraction for the town, Midsummer's Festival is this weekend! You all should come, it'll be a gas! There's so much to do, I can't even describe it all on here. Basically, you walk around looking at all of the Swedish crap at the booths, whilst the people at the booths are hoping to the almighty that you buy something because it's the only time other than the Apocalypse that somebody would come to this town. I digress, it's quite a lovely place. The wind is nice. And prevalent. 

So on that note, it'll be a weekend filled with fun and jubilation, not unlike my night last night! Have you ever been to an authentic German dinner, hosted by an authentic German war bride (from WWII might I add) who came over to the great place known as America at the age of 22, knowing little to no English, and giving it all up in her homeland to stick it out in Kansas? No, I didn't think so, so shove off because I did. There was everything in and around and under the hills at that table: dumplings, which for those of you not in the know, are a bread-y mass of goodness, schnitzel, Rolaten*, peas and green beans, rolls, salad, and no less than four desserts! Apple cheesecake, cherry pie, plum cake, and strawberry shortcake. Talk about heaven! I up and died it was so delicious, and the only reason I'm typing this now is because I was sent back to this place to tell y'all about such a good time of vittles. It really was something spectacular. It was so good that even thinking about it has made tiny bags of thistle start to pull on my eyes. Guess it's time for a slumber. I'll update soon, as soon as I can make time in my hectic schedule.

     *(Om Nom)

Apologies

Apologies for the low-to-no postage (not a commercial) in the past few half-fortnights, I have been detained by several factors. One being the garage. A garage is a horrible American invention that allows us to live up to our horrible standards of large amounts of crap, where the garage is the church, and the crap is the congregation. It is horrible. Add two brothers and an auction-obsessed mother into the picture, and we have our very own Armageddon.
My father was quite adamant about not throwing anything metal away, but instead getting a "fair go" at its value at the scrap metal place in Salina. Right, like you're really going to get any substantial amount of money at the scrap metal place. But riches are to be had you say? Mountains of cash can be accumulated by the conquest of metal in its rare form of scrap, you jest? I say nay to you naysayers! Twenty three dollars was all that we could suffice from an exorbitantly large load accompanied by a clingy set of box springs. This bed burden had made no less than 9 trips throughout its 30 year lifetime in my family, and was it worth moving 9 times only to have it subjected to the demons of scrap, and being dealt a $5 scrap sentence? You are not a patriot if you say it was so! Minus the gas we had to pay to fill up the truck, minus the 2 dollar drinks at McDonald's (my mom and I were thirsty y'all), we came out in the red. Quite a prosperous afternoon that was. If you can't tell already, this monster of a garage has been consuming my life, so it is indeed not a very exciting one at all.
I came upon a philosophical thought the other day whilst watching a game of sport endured by my brethren engaging in Basketball in a town 45 minutes away from home: What if people put as much emphasis towards learning as they did on sports for their kids? That, I believe, is the million dollar question. I took a look at my brothers' calendars the other day, and they're packed fuller than a college girl's luggage after returning from a semester abroad. Pretty full I'd say.
I promise I'll update quicker from now on, I know you're just dying to hear about my exploits in Little Sweden! Oh, I think my life may have hit a new high, for tomorrow I'm going to call and see if I can join the local farmer's market with "Coop's Cooking".

Frontenac

     So I went to a Catholic wedding today, not to say that a Catholic wedding distinguishes it from any other wedding, aside from the fact that it's scientifically proven to be 3 times as long, and 3 times as boring. Just kidding. But really, it wasn't all Catholic weddings in general, it was just the priest in this one. He seemed to be so overcome with emotion for the bride and groom that he felt the need to pause every 3 seconds or so, only managing to pour out a meager 2 words or so between gasps of delight. It was difficult to sit/stand/kneel through, to say the least.
     The couple, however, was and is beautiful. They were some college friends of mine who decided to do the patriotic thing and get married, and now I realize just how much farther I am from even potentially landing a girlfriend. That's life for you. Those are the kind of things that you learn on the eve of the eve of your birthday.
     This past week has been a blur. I've applied for two jobs, which has taken most of my energy out of me. Yes, the applications only took about twenty minutes each (The hospital's had a few extra pages though, almost made me give up applying! This must be their weed-out strategy), and yes, I turned them in on Thursday, but it did indeed take time to work up the courage to fill out those applications, and go through the several calculations in my head about whether or not I should even venture into these establishments. That is the stuff that I was doing the other three days of the week. Tiring, I know.
     Friday was a fun day of driving. First through Wichita, then to Sedan, Kansas, where the mightiest blues     festival on the face of the earth is set to take place this weekend. Never heard of Sedan, Kansas? That's because it's so big, they didn't have room for it on the map, so they just left it off. Seriously, you should go. They even had a high school choir open up for the downtown block party. I told you this stuff was legendary.
     Now it's time to catch up with my college buddies through several trips to the hot tub, intertwined with several trips to the regular pool in an attempt to recreate hypothermia (just kidding). Have fun this weekend, my birthday is on Monday!

Flight

I look down upon it all, taking in this spectacle of night,


Tiny dollops of slumbering joy help to ease my fright.


The giant roar from the engine, cradles me like a glove.


I am an anomaly in flight, helpless from above. 


The great city below does little to ease my qualms.


For paradise I just left, stuffed with friendly palms. 


Now I roam over this endless, briny sea,


If land may ever come, 


gentle...may it be.

Oh Boy

Oh boy was it a gas out in paradise. So much unattainable tail, a regular ol' hootenanny thanks to some Iowans at a Luau, and some kayaking up a river with a tour guide named Candida. Hot sausage on a Sunday morning! Isn't that a sight? Didn't think so, I didn't show you anything.
     I realized that flourless cake is something indeed compared to the island's mystery on LOST. It is indeed, decadent and delicious, and should be included in all meals, including breakfast. I also learned something else on this trip. It seems that the "finer" fine dining gets, and the more expensive it is, it seems like you get less and the chefs don't do as much work. The steak is rare, the fish is uncooked. The portions are akin to something that you might feed to your teething toddler for a snack, not even close to attaining meal-hood.

Fine Dining

     

     How the hell am I supposed to survive on that? The answer is, you're not. You're supposed to support this "fine and exotic" dish with it's cohorts in compilation, the Appetizer and the Dessert, both masters of their trade. This is why even after all of this grand eating experience, I still want to stop down the street and pork down a basket of waffle fries and a double BBQ hickory bacon dee-lux burger.

     I have to look for a job tomorrow. I don't want to look for a job, I wish a job would look for me. But, if I want to keep fueling my ruthless cabbage patch doll addiction, I'll have to find some form of income. Take care now. 

Thimbleberries

     I took it upon myself to hike while we were in Hawaii, because it's an activity that all teenagers full of life like myself can aspire to and enjoy. What's cooler than saying you hiked the "Powerline" trail? Saying you hiked 2 1/2 miles of the "Powerline" trail and turned back because you didn't know how far it went, only to find out it went a syndrome-inducing 10 miles to the other side of the island. Thank God I didn't look for the pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.

     The ultra-whiteness of my body that rivaled Edward Cullen is no more. I took care of that in one fell swoop of laying out in full UV-A and UV-B glory yesterday for a solid 20 minutes, minus sunscreen mind you. Take that albinism. So my dad has a major...hankering, for this flower called a plumeria (See -->)

He's got such a fancy for these things, I'm beginning to wonder why on earth he married my mom. For God's snakes, he called them "my plumeria". Now, his flavor of the flower usually comes in a white version with a yellow inside, but that's not saying he's elitist or anything. So this obsession got a little ridiculous, so I made a...sexual reference, if you will (and you will), to whenever he smelled those things. Needless to say, he wasn't having any of it, while indeed, he was having all of the whiffs of plumeria he could possibly muster out of two nostrils. I took it upon myself to invent a "power-smelling" method so as to increase the potential smell capacity of each whiff. Therefore, I took two "plumerii" (is that even possible to make it plural like that?) and entranced them each near my Plumeria-deprived nostrils, and inhaled. Needless to say, it was more electrifying than an episode of dog whisperer.

     We toured a coffee plantation yesterday. Yes, plantation. We took the 1/8 mile, approximately 20 minute (important plot elements here!) walking tour, and learned all about how the soul-sucking liquid is made! Did you know that the coffee bean is actually a seed of a small cherry-like fruit? They have to open it and scrape out all of the mush and sould of the fruit to get to that little heartless seed that "adults" seem to have a throbbing "love" for. Also, they said that back in the day, some time ago, there was a melting pot of people that came to the island to work the sugar cane fields (which are now the coffee fields). Right, like those people came to the island all jolly and ready to work the fields, which the tour described as "laborious and tiring work". That's an interesting way to describe an enslaved group of people. Sounds like a big party (not really). In this way, the beans are also a "melting pot" because they're all mixed up together, so you get all kinds of heritage from those beans! Man, what cultural richness! And all from coffee! They also had free little samples afterward, all in those legit containers that you pump down on, just like you metaphorically pump your soul out of your body after every sip. That stuff, needless to say, was delicious, given enough sugar and creamer of course.

     That's about all of the wisdom and wisecrackery I have for now. It's time to hit up the breakfast buffet! Someone's gotta fight for obesity, he always seems to be the underdog!