Miss Stinky Pee-Pee Pants

So I’ve peed my pants twice on this journey.

The funny lookin funnel thing in the above photo is what I call my “she-wee”. It’s god given name is “the freshette”. I’ve used it for the past 5 years to stand and pee in the woods. It wasn’t until this trip that it malfunctioned. The funnel couldn’t handle the flow and spilled over into my pants and down my legs. Good times. Fuck off she-wee……. you are no longer on my favorites list.

We drove from Montrose to Dolores, hitting the town of telluride on the way.

We popped up a quick camp for the night and had some red curry for din din. The insta pot is becoming a great companion.

We are traveling with both of our cars bursting at the seams with gear for every occasion. Living out of your car is nothing like packing up for a weekend of camping. This is a whole new ball game and we are making up the rules as we go.

Sack Of Snug

Am I a tomato or strawberry? Apple maybe?

The best part is the bottom of this thing is folded under and the end is all the way up to my waist tightened with a drawstring. All 5 feet 2 inches of me gets swallowed up in a sleeping bag.

Remember the snuggie?

We uncovered the puffy version in Jase’s gear. I promptly made fun of it and then had to take it all back once I put it on. It’s the warmest, coziest sack I’ve ever been embraced by. I will likely live in it.

The last few days have been a roller coaster, I’ve somehow managed to recover my sense of humor.

Jase and I are back on track and moving forward with our plans.

Will update more when I can, just wanted y’all to know I’m still laughing.

I miss reading everyone’s blogs and interacting. Sending you all light, love and snuggie hugs!

P.S. I’m still not best friends with my instant pot.

Instant Pain In The Ass

It’s easy they said.

You can cook anything they said.

To prepare for living in the woods, I thought a good investment would be an instant pot. They’ve been around for a few years.

I’ve heard and read great things.

Online searches bring up positive feedback and mouthwatering recipes.

My own mind created visions of simple, healthy, low cost, backwoods meals with easy clean up.

My first impression: WHAT THE FUCK DID I GET MYSELF INTO?

The manual is pathetic. Using this thing IS rocket science and the manual is the equivalent of a 1st grade book. There’s nothing in it. It doesn’t even explain what each button is for. I feel like I’m the girl who got her period and no one explained it to me beforehand. I’M LOST.

Looking for answers on the internet is like trying to find real news on Covid-19. Laughable while simultaneously frustrating and confusing.

We had chicken drumsticks and rice in the house. I figured why not give it a whirl. Below is an online picture next to a picture of reality.

Although it looked unappetizing it tasted decent. I was impressed with the rice. It did have a better consistency than that of a rice cooker.

What no one tells you is it takes the instant pot time to warm up and build the pressure it needs to quickly cook the food. So a recipe that boasts of a cook time of 5 to 10 minutes is more like 20 minutes.

Now for the best part. We had a box of pancake mix in the house and I found a recipe for a giant instant pot pancake.

How hard could that be? See pictures below. Online and reality

This fucker was a bitch to make.

I followed the instructions to a T. Once the instant pot got going it started beeping and flashing a “burn food” warning.

Awesome.

It took an hour. Yes an hour to make this pathetic pale pancake and there is an inch of it burnt to the bottom of the pan.

Jase, the optimist that he is, ate it enthusiastically with a stick of butter and container of syrup.

If you weren’t worried about us moving into the woods before, you should be now. We are likely to starve out there.

There are plenty of instant pot cookbooks, but I’m not a fan.

I find cookbooks to be full of things I’d never eat, like tomato wheatberry soup, and by the time you purchase all the ingredients you’ve spent a weeks worth of grocery money on one recipe.

I prefer things basic.

I’m not giving up.

I will love the instant pot and the insanity it rode in on.

My Produce Made A Funny

I forgot my mesh bags at home.

The produce decided to strike a pose after scanning.

The cashier and I shared a “masked” belly laugh.

Does anyone else miss seeing peoples mouths?

Not in a creepy way, but in a “missing rich interactions” way.

Crazy how not seeing a persons face in its entirety dulls communication.

Cluster Clucks

Cluster~fuck: a complex, and utterly disordered and mismanaged situation: a muddled mess.

Ashley’s post on how to spot fake health news got me in the cluster~fuck mood. Here in the states you’re better off not reading the news at all.

About anything. EVER.

I received this video below in my e-mail and had to share. It about sums it up. Hopefully it will work. It’s from FB and I don’t have a FB account.

I needed a break from packing and organizing, also a cluster~fuck. But I did come across my teeth whitening trays so at least I’m multitasking. My teeth were looking a little dingy. Now they will be white enough to blind the grizzly bears while I’m screaming for my life. Meh, who needs bear spray?

There’s a lot to consider when moving into a tent. Like changing our address.

5506 Tent Life Boulevard, Bumblefuck U.S.A

I’ve changed my address 5 times in the past 4 years. I’ve been a nomad in the making all along. At least the bill collectors won’t be able to find me.

These Are Hairy Times

Sometimes when you’re cleaning the house and you find a disturbing wad of hair. the only thing to make it less disturbing is to stick a pair of googly eyes on it.

Just sayin.

On a more sane note, we’ve been busy beavers making sure our gear is up to snuff since we’re going to be living the tent life soon.

Boring, but essential things, like our small generator, battery pack and toilet. I even tested the breakdownability (not a word, I know) of our current toilet paper in a container of water and shook it around. Not quite as disturbing as the googly eyed hair wad.

I’m more interested in the air mattress, Moroccan style bedding, inflatable couch and string lights. The glamping stuff that has nothing to do with survival but everything to do with comfort.

Cricket the cat has been enjoying chasing mice INTO the house because her ass~hat humans left the door open. Then she stays up all night chasing them and knocking shit over.

This morning she brought this little bird inside. Cricket is apparently making sure her “gear”: claws and fangs are in proper working order.

I’m Friggin Rich

Photo by me

Though I have yet to find a pot of gold and dance wildly with leprechauns, sighting a rainbow is a magical event.

On second thought………….

There are two pots of gold across from me on the couch. I call them Jase and Cricket. Well, sometimes I call them asshole and turd ferguson.

I found many pots of gold at my retail job today in my co-workers and customers whom I can joke and laugh with.

AND in the conversation with a bestie almost 1,000 miles away on my drive in.

Come to think of it, another pal in Arizona that messaged me I’ll be getting a book Monday and another who consistently checks in on me.

AND my eldest son and his girlfriend brought us pizza and tiramisu on Sunday along with completing a 1,000 piece jig saw puzzle with us.

Of course I have to mention we are all wealthier with blogs from : Kate, Goldie, Robin, V, Pooja G, Kacha, Ashley and so many more!

Holy Shit, I’m fucking RICH………oh wait……there’s no leprechauns…..

Imogene “Idgie” Threadgoode

Photo by me

Jase and I out in public is at best hysterical.

Today’s adventure was the hospital. I gave the elderly man at the front desk my information. I could have sworn when he looked at the gal and gentleman next to him he said, “Imogene”.

A grin broke out on my face. Bubbling with enthusiasm, I blurted out, “Imogene! I love that name! That is such a great name, who’s name is Imogene?”

Jase standing next to me, “No Mare, imaging.”

Me, “I know honey, Imogene, isn’t that a great name!”

At this point, I was perplexed why no one behind the counter volunteered themselves as Imogene. Why no one was sharing in my excitement. Why was everyone looking at me like I pooped my pants?

Jase, “I-M-A-G-I-N-G, imaging honey, no one’s name is Imogene.”

If you’re familiar with the book/movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, the name Imogene holds a special place in your heart. Much more than “imaging” ever will.

I’ll now hand the keyboard over to Jase to regale his take on this mornings exchange:

Jase here. Honestly there’s not much more to say. Mare was out of pocket; a total comic relief this morning. After she heard what she wanted to hear…the name I-M-O-G-E-N-E, she stood around looking like the only kid on the playground who didn’t get the punchline to the joke.

I’m allowed to poke fun of Mare. I tease her and say she’s not really a Ginger or Day Walker (with all of her cute freckles and gorgeous red locks of hair that stretch down to her butt). I say she’s more of a blonde dying her hair red. Or that she lives under the world’s deepest rock. Why? Cause she rips on me too. I’m pretty clueless. I have book smarts like math and physics, but when it comes to practical knowledge, that’s a different story. I have the street smarts of June Cleaver. But together….well we make up one well rounded brain…lemme just add a very good looking brain at that.

Mare here again.

There’s something about genuine laughter that lightens the heaviest of situations.

On our drive to the hospital, we listened to one of my favorite tunes. The lyrics help direct me to a better place. They remind me to honor all emotions and that we’re all in this together. Oooo this song gives me the “goosies” every time.

Wash Your Dirty Bits

There are days I feel like I’m falling out of a tree like my cat pictured above.

Shower?

Fuck no. That requires energy.

Jase kindly tells me when it’s time.

“Honey, you look like you brushed your hair with a pork chop.”

That’s when the hippie showers no longer cut it. You know, the 1 minute dirty bits rinse with the detachable shower head. Pits, tits, and ass as Jase refers to it……(I also include my vag)