Well, That's Like Hypnotizing Chickens

Here is a picture of a cowboy throwing a rubber chicken. I can't imagine that there is anyone out there who wouldn't want to see that.

I'm kind of one of those people. I tend to be on the friendly side and strangers seem to find me accessible for some reason. I used to date a guy who told me I was too nice and that men took it the wrong way, but I'm nice to women too and so it's not like I'm trying to be all flirty or anything. Just last week, one of the homeless panhandler girls stopped me in the Ped Mall and said, "Hey, you're the nice lady who always says hi to me." I am?

The thing I've learned to be careful of is the god people. There was a woman at the farmers market who sold us cookies and chatted with us, until one day she got overly aggressive about trying to get us to go to some church group or other. No thanks. And then there were the Moonies who stopped me when I was eating lunch downtown when I lived in San Francisco and tried to get me to attend one of their events. None for me, thanks.

Last Fall, I met a woman who works at the bank where I take the work deposit. She stopped me outside to introduce herself. She told me she saw me running and she thought I looked really cool and wanted to meet me. So, we talked for a bit. She has a daughter who is a little younger than mine and so we had that conversation. Throughout the year, I'd see her around and one time she was having lunch with another friend of mine, who I think is wonderful.

Today at the bank, she asked me if I played ultimate frisbee. I never have before, and I'm not sure exactly what it is even. She said that she and some friends met on Saturday afternoons at the Reservoir and that I should join them sometime. Honestly, I'm not all that good at team sports because you have to pay attention, and I don't think I have to explain to you all again that I'm not very good at that, do I? But she does seem really nice and I've been thinking I should maybe be better at expanding my horizons. If I do, I promise not to drink any Kool-Aid or shave my head or carve a swastika into my flesh. So, what do you think?

In the Summertime When the Weather is Hot

Here is a rusted out piece of machinery in a garden in Kalona. I took this last year.

First, I want to say thanks to the people who gave me suggestions for a better Kinks Song to run to. I'll be taking care of that sometime this week.

Today I finally got my ass in gear early enough to make it to the Farmer's Market. Last year I used to go almost every Saturday around the same time. The girls would come with and we'd buy flowers to have for our table during our big Sunday dinner and get lots of good fresh veggies and look at stuff. Of course, it's always a big social thing too. On one of my "walk around downtown to get out of cubicle world during lunch" strolls this week, I ran into my old professor. He's now retired, but he used to be the head of the English department here and he taught my America in the 1930's class that I loved so well. Anyway, we used to run into each other a lot on Saturday mornings and we'd stop and chat and he'd talk about his wife and grandkids and we'd laugh about the differences between having boys and girls. So, when I saw him this week, he asked me where I'd been and told me he really missed seeing me. How sweet is that?

So, today when I woke up at a decent hour, (thanks to my sister who has young children and thinks everyone should be awake on Saturday mornings and calls me just to make sure I am) I made the trek down to Chauncey Swan parking ramp. Coadster came with and we went downtown first so we could go to the bank and take out some money. My friend A. was setting the outdoor tables at 126, so I stopped to talk to her and we made plans to meet for lunch on one of my days off this week.

We finally made it to the farmer's market and the guy selling gladiolas gave me a bunch extra for free. I saw many of my Saturday morning friends from last year and got to meet their new babies or boyfriends or girlfriends and caught up on tons of gossip. By the time we walked across to the Co-op and then made it home it was almost noon. I forgot that going to the farmer's market was such a big time commitment.