Don't Put Mayo On a Chicken Salad Sandwich

   My last Wednesday Hodgepodge, one of the questions was to sum up a life lesson you've learned in one sentence. I put mine as 'Don't put mayo on a chicken salad sandwich.' You can read the full post here, if your curious. I received two comments asking me about my life lesson. So I'll tell you the story.
   A many years ago, I was having a sleepover with my best friend. I'll call her Sunshine. She was hosting, so I went over to her house. I believe she picked me up at violin lessons, since our lessons were back-to-back. Sunshine and I, along with her mom and sisters were in the car, on our way to her house from violin lessons and stopped at a deli-ish place for lunch. We got chocolate pudding that was crazy good and we also ordered sandwiches.
   In order to order a sandwich, you had a slip of paper that you check off what you wanted. I think the first thing you checked off was what kind of bread you wanted. I picked white bread, I'm pretty sure. I don't know why I would have picked anything else. I didn't like wheat bread at the time, though I do now.
   The next thing was condiments, I believe. I choose mayo. Then you chose toppings. I forget what I picked, because I don't really remember the options. Sunshine had already finished filling out hers and glanced over at mine. She said something and I answered her. We fell into a small conversation when one of her little sisters finished hers and put it up on the counter.
   Snapped back to my order, I glanced down at the final category and glanced over the options. I wasn't the biggest fan of lunch meat, so when I saw chicken salad, I quickly picked that and laid my paper slip next to everyone else's. Then we went to pick out our puddings.
   Back in the car, armed with our sandwiches and pudding, we ate. I opened my sandwich and took a bite. It was good. The more I ate into the sandwich, the runnier and sloppier it got. How much mayonnaise did they put into this chicken salad? It was still good, regardless of amount of mayonnaise. It didn't hit me until later, what I had done.
   Was the sandwich good? Yes. Was the amount of mayonnaise insane? Yes. Was it their fault? No. Whose fault was it? Mine. Did the sandwich people question why someone would put mayo on a chicken salad sandwich? Probably. I mean, I would. I made a bad choice, but I learned from it. I hope you learned from my experience as well. Save yourself from having to drink your chicken salad, and don't put mayo on a chicken salad sandwich.

Lawn Chairs

   I generally enjoy summer. The warmer weather, the rainstorms, the swimming. But there is one thing I hate about summer. Something that has plagued me since my youth. Something that has physically scarred me for life. In fact, you probably own several of these awful things yourself. What is this monster, you may ask? I'll tell you. A seemingly innocent lawn chair.
   What's so bad about a lawn chair? Everything. From the weird, scratchy material they're made from, to the poorly made metal frame that barely and rarely stays together. I have a solid distrust of lawn chairs, starting from when I was about 7 or 8.
   It was during the summer sometime, and a rainstorm was coming in with high wind advisories. We all hurried outside to clean up the yard so our things wouldn't blow away. I was to fold up the lawn chairs and put them on the back porch. No problem, I had this.
   These were large, cumbersome, chairs that I had difficulty folding by myself. I was determined to do it, though, so I started on the first one. It wasn't so bad and I hauled it to the porch. I went to get the second one, but it was apparently stuck and wouldn't fold shut. I tried again and with a lot of effort, I finally shut it. Shut it right on my pinky finger, that is. I jerked it free, my eyes filling with tears. I couldn't bring myself to look at it, so I just tried to calm myself down.
   After a moment of trying not to cry, I brought my finger up to where I could see it. Immediately, I realized I didn't need to try and tough this out, for I was actually hurt. My left pinky nail was broken right in half, and shattered around it. It tore the skin at the bottom of my nail almost a half an inch down. I still have the scar from it.
   To be frank, I don't really remember what happened after that. What happened to the lawn chair, or what even happened to me. Mom fixed me up and I survived. The scar on my pinky isn't the only scar I have from a lawn chair incident.
   We were at a neighborhood picnic, and it was late. The campfire, which was previously surrounded by a ton of people, was now only occupied by a few people, most of which I knew. I sat down in a random lawn chair, tired from the long day. I sat and relaxed for about five minutes until I went to adjust myself in the chair. I have no idea how the chair broke, but somehow it managed to give up on me in the most inconvenient fashion.
   As my butt departed from the seat, I managed to do a barrel roll across the grass, narrowly missing the fire. The frame managed to scrap across the side of my rib cage and that's how I received my scar. Plus, it was rather embarrassing, you could say. Considering I'm about as graceful as a fawn in heels, it was probably quite the sight to see.
   While I have plenty of other awful stories I could tell you about my pitiful lawn chair experiences, I leave you with these. This is a warning to you, in a way. Watch out for the hidden evils of the world.  Sure, Obamacare is devastating, but the little things, like lawn chairs and Styrofoam plates, is going to be what takes us out.

Wednesday Hodgepodge

1. Tell us about a time you found yourself 'in the middle of nowhere'. Was this deliberate?

   When I was little, probably 8 or 9, our homeschool group was having an activity at summer camp/ranch thing. They had a corn maze which we were all excited to go in. A couple of my friends and I were playing elsewhere while everyone else was still in the barn. We were supposed to meet at the beginning of the corn maze and go through it together at a certain time. We were playing and lost track of time.
   When one of my friends checked her watch, she looked up with wide eyes and said, "It's already fifteen minutes past!" Panicked, we all sprinted up to the beginning of the corn maze, only to see everyone had left without us. For a second, we debated what to do, but came to the conclusion that we didn't want to miss out the corn maze just because we were late. So we decided we would just catch up with them. They couldn't be that far ahead, right?
   We darted through the maze, thrilled and nervous all at the same time. This was a grand and daring adventure, but at the same time, we could find ourselves lost forever. We ran through the maze until we came to a clearing. This was not where we supposed to come out at. The whole time we had not seen or heard any signs of other humans. We were truly in the middle of nowhere.
   Fortunately, we persevered and eventually came out at the beginning of the corn maze again, thanks to us trying to retrace our steps. Everyone else had not gone into the corn maze yet, and we must have misheard the time. Our mothers were not angry, more relived to find us than anything else. Eventually we did go back through the corn maze with others, and it was enjoyable experience.

2. What's something you're 'in the middle of' today or this week? 

   Does the middle of this blog post count? I've been sick these past couple days, so I haven't been getting into much. I'm in the middle of making a recovery, so that's a plus.

3. At what age do you think 'middle age' begins? What does it mean to be 'middle aged'? 

 

   I don't know much about middle age, but I would assume it happens sometime around your 50's. Maybe 40's, if you're in poor health.

4. Ravioli, stuffed peppers, samosas, deviled eggs, steamed dumplings, pierogis, or a jelly donut...your favorite food (from this list!) with something yummy in the middle. Your favorite not on the list? 

   Probably ravioli, though most of them are stuffed with meat. I do not like stuffed peppers, and I've never had samosas or steamed dumplings. I think I've had pierogis before, but I can't remember liking them or disliking them. I don't mind deviled eggs, or jelly donuts, but I would rather have ravioli over those options. My favorite not on the list is probably a crème filled donut. I love those things.

5. Albert Einstein is quoted as saying ''In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.' Would you agree? Have you found this to be true in your own life? Feel free to elaborate. 

   I would agree. I can't think of an example from my life, but I do think that challenges present the opportunity to make us stronger, if we choose.

6. What's a song you remember loving from your middle school years? Do you love it still? 

   My middle school years weren't that far back, so my songs aren't all that far back in my mind. Don't Stop Believen', by Journey was a favorite, so were TobyMac songs. And yes, I still love them today.

7. May 18th is National Visit Your Relatives Day. Will you celebrate? Which relative would you visit if time, distance, and expense were not considered. 

   I will probably will celebrate it today. We won't even have to visit anyone. They come to us. My grandfather will probably be down here twice before the day is out. Also, another grandfather already stopped down this morning, so I guess we already celebrated. Most of our family lives close, so it's often not a big event.
   The relative I would visit if reality would not be considered, would be my uncle who lives in Florida. It's quite the distance to travel, and we haven't seen him in five years at least. Plus, he lives near the beach, and that would be fun.

8. Insert your own random thought here. 

   I honestly can't think of anything to write about, so here's a picture of Bob Ross holding a raccoon cub.

 

T - Terrible Advice I've Given Myself

   I'm not the wisest person I've ever met, but I'm not an idiot, or at least that's what I think. Sometimes, though, I feel like the dumbest person in the world when I get myself into situations that I'd rather not be in.
   Before I begin, I am well aware that I should have thought this through more, before I did such a thing. But I did it anyway. It was a Saturday night, and I was writing in one of my notebooks, studying for the Bible quiz that was tomorrow morning. All of a sudden, my favorite pen stopped writing. I tried everything I possibly could think of to make it write again, but nothing helped.
   I then decided to take the pen apart and see if that could help. I opened it up, and removed the tube of ink. I had a great idea. I would take the tip of the pen off and blow the ink through the tube so it could write again. What could go wrong?, I told myself.
   I brought it to my lips and blew a light amount of pressure into it, but nothing happened. So I blew harder. All at once, half the tube of ink was sprayed across my left hand. I thought, Oh, crap, this better wash off. So I threw the inky pen and all of it's parts straight in the trash and headed to the bathroom to wash my hands.
   I started with soap and water, but then realized it wasn't coming off, it hardly even smeared. Worried, I remembered tea tree oil, (which was right in the cabinet above the sink) would take practically anything off your hands. So I got the bottle and dropped multiple drops into my palm. I started to rub it in.
   It smeared everywhere. Up my arms, under my fingernails, everywhere. It was then I went into a light panic. Tomorrow morning, I had to go to church, a restaurant, and then a quiz meet! I didn't want to go with purple/black hands!
   So I swallowed my pride and called for mom, who was downstairs. "Mom," I called, "I made a really bad decision." I heard her give a timid laugh as she was coming up the stairs.
   When she saw me, her eyes widened. I told her how I had gotten myself into this mess. Like always, mom remedied my situation with tea tree castile soap. After many washings and re-washings of my hands, there was only a slight difference in color of my ink covered skin, and my non ink colored skin.
   I could tell you about the time I dye part of my hair with the ink you use for stamps, or the time I time I dropped the last can of baked beans on the floor out of my own stupidity. Or maybe I'd tell you about the time I'd got my hand stuck between our banister and the wall (that happened when I was much younger.)
   Long story short, I've made (and have yet to make) a lot of bad decisions. But I'm learning, sometimes the hard way.

Wednesday Hodgepodge

1. It's October so let's get this out there first thing...have you jumped on the all-things-pumpkin bandwagon? How so?

   I haven't jumped on the pumpkin bandwagon. Firstly, because I don't like pumpkin and secondly because you can get pumpkin all year round. Not just in the fall. It's ridiculous. Yes, pumpkin is harvested in the fall, but a lot of pumpkin things use canned pumpkin. Not fresh.


 2.  "We have more power than will; and it is often by way of excuse to ourselves that we fancy things are impossible." Francois Duc De la Rochefoucauld  

What's something you once thought impossible, but in hindsight see as more a matter of lack of will?

   Math? It's not impossible, even though it feels like that, but I also hate it, so my lack of will doesn't make it better...


 3. The rose is America's National Flower, but every state also has its own (click here to see the list). Are you happy with yours? If you were in charge what would you declare your state's flower? If you're outside the U.S. what bloom would you like to see labeled as your country's national flower?

   Our state flower isn't my favorite, it's nice enough, but if I was in charge, I would make it Forget-Me-Nots. I like the little blue flowers.


 4. What have you lost interest in recently?

   I don't think I've lost interest in anything recently, if anything, my interests have been growing.


 5. In your opinion, who's the best living musician?

   I couldn't pick just one. I think every musician has something different to bring to the table, because everyone has different taste and style. I love the fact that we have a ton of different artists out there with the same goal (making music) that each one is achieving differently. Though I like some more than others, I couldn't pick a "best".


 6. S'mores-love 'em or no? Ever make them indoors? Last time you sat around an outdoor fire? Are making s'mores and sitting round a fire pit on your autumn bucket list? Do you have an autumn bucket list?

   S'mores are okay. We've made them indoors before, but they're not as good as campfire-made ones. I typically don't have a s'more when we have campfires. A few weeks ago was probably our last campfire. I don't think we will have another one this year. Our family isn't the type to think, "Hey, let's go outside and sit in crappy lawn chairs that are falling apart. We'll build a fire and pretend we aren't freezing our butts off!" I don't have an autumn bucket list, or plan on making a bucket list just for a season.


 7. Your favorite small town? Why?

   I don't have a favorite small town. I live in a small town surrounded by other small towns. It's not really a competition.


 8. Insert your own random thought here.

   The changing of seasons has brought my mind into the past. I remember, when I was younger, my brother used to bring his roller skates, skateboards, pogo sticks, scooters and occasionally a bike into the house during the winter. Amazingly, mom tolerated a lot of it.
   At one point, we only had one pair of roller skates, which wasn't bad because I couldn't roller skate with both of the them on. I still can't. Anyway, he would take the left skate and I would take the right, and we would skate around the house, pushing off with our bare foot and gliding on the skated one.
   The skateboard was also fun. One of us would sit on the skateboard and the other would push. It was horrible when you had your fingers ran over. The scooters were fun to ride too. I still can't believe mom tolerated everything in the house, but looking back, I'm glad she did.

The Day I First Missed a Question on a Test

   I remember a day from my childhood, a day that was a tragedy at the time, but now, I look back and can't help but smile. A day when a little seven year old me, at that point, had never missed a question on a test. Not once, not ever. I was a overachiever even then.
   It started out as a normal school day. I had just finished a Bible test, ready for my 100 percent to greet me at the top of the page, when tragedy struck. I had gotten a 98. A 98! I was shocked and heartbroken at the horror that lay before me. It was a number these events, 1-5, about Moses' calling to go talk to pharaoh. I confused 'Take off your sandals' with 'This is holy ground'.
   At the time, I was heartbroken. I bawled and bawled like it was the end of the world and I was going to hell for eternity. Looking back, I see I overreacted a little. As of today, I've missed plenty of questions on test and worksheets. I'll probably miss some more too. But I don't think I'll ever forget the day I first missed a question on a test.