And I don’t have a dog named Toto. I don’t have any sort of dog. I don’t even own a hot dog.
But I DID go to Kansas this weekend. Oddly enough, I dodged tornadoes by traveling to Kansas.
Kansas is a fun place. It has fun (and random) signage.
This sign is confusing, yet intriguing. Five meat for $25? It leaves the reader with so many questions. What kind of meat? What is “5 meat?” Does the buyer get five pounds of meat? Five pieces of meat?
This could be the deal of the century. Or it could be a big meat scam. So, if you travel to Kansas — beware of any meat deals that appear too good to be true.
John’s favorite sign:
I was pretty jealous we didn’t spot a “Laura’s Super” sign. I am, but there was no signage to display that fact. I had to settle for this:
I make a mean torta. Don’t kid yourself.
Finally…Kansas likes to barricade hay.
This particular bale isn’t going anywhere.
Another excellent thing about Kansas (aside from those super tortas) is Whole Foods. I don’t really want to like the store — it seems kind of yuppie, and I don’t want to be someone who spends $17 on an avocado that’s had the very best life has to offer. But, alas, I think I may be one of those people. In Sex in the City, Carrie Bradshaw said, “I like my money where I can see it — hanging in my closet.” I apparently like my money in my crisper. Or my stomach.
Whole Foods apparently was aware of my recent obsession with Kombucha tea. We walked in and saw a GIANT display of Kombucha as well as Kombucha on tap. Kombucha has little living cultures, so there’s sediment stuff in the bottom of each bottle. (Yes, it kind of looks like loogies — don’t be alarmed. They’re healthy loogies.)
Lesson learned this weekend — DO. NOT. SHAKE. KOMBUCHA. Shaking the Kombucha seems to anger the little sediments. A lot. It’s like shaking a bottle of pop — only magnified about 1 billion times.
I’m back in Des Moines now, and I’m trying to garden during every possible moment of daylight. The weeds have created a nice rash on my arms, and no amount of soap can wash away the dirt stains on my hands. I’m ok with this.
I’ll attempt to photograph my little garden at some point. It’s a happy place. It has tomatoes named Mr. Stripey! (no joke! it’s a real heirloom tomato!) I may have issues eating Mr. Stripey. I may have to take Mr. Stripey to a taxidermist to properly preserve him. He could make a nice wall decoration.