Get your paws off me!

Adam visits me at work. That is important to know for this post.
Also, it's important to know that we aren't overly demonstrative in public. Why hang all over each other at work or the store when you have all night to cuddle on the couch?? Sometimes when he comes to see me, we sneak a "peck" kiss when no one is looking. But we always make sure no one is looking.
Today Adam came to see me at his break. Then, later, while I was in the middle of talking to a co-worker, Adam snuck in behind me, and rubbed his hand affectionately on my back. While I was talking. to a coworker. I wasn't expecting him.

My first thought was "Oh, that's unusual. And I'm talking to someone. About business"
My second thought was "I do love when Adam touches my back! Even if I am at work. But I need to make sure he knows not to do that while I am being official."
My third thought was "Hmmmm, Adam sure has a warm, steamy hand today."

And then, "Adam" stepped out from behind me, and it wasn't Adam at all. It was some guy I've never seen before in my life. We get a lot of vendors at work, passing through my office all day long. I thought it was very strange that a vendor/delivery man would touch my back so. Suddenly I became acutely aware of every little piece of flesh he had touched. It was like the hot steaminess was soaking in, to stay forever.

He apologized profusely and said he thought I was someone else. He didn't mean to be creepy, etc.

It didn't really matter. It still felt creepy, and for the next half hour, I felt like I needed to go scrub my back with Ajax. Interesting how context makes all the difference! Same touch, and at first it was semi-welcome, then totally abhorred. And interesting how personal space is so sacred. and picky. Adam is allowed to pat my back. Total stranger delivery man??? Not so much.

tummmaters

this is what I did today:

All day for three (yes, I said three) pints of tomatoes. But next time should be easier and faster, since I know what I'm doing. And I am expecting a next time, since I have roughly 5 billion huge green tomatoes on my plants right now.

And Mommie..you're right, that "pop" sound really is like music to a canner's ears! =)

Adam

Adam was listening to our iPod at work this morning. He told me about a song that came on in the random playlist. Said song, according to Adam, was a combination of (all in one song, keep in mind):
1. African music
2. Celtic violin
3. Bluegrass
4. Big band

Sounds like a rather zany mix, no?
I think it was Ghana High Life music.

Musing about Music

I'm not a huge iPod user, but today, being a particularly rank day at work, I pulled it out and sank into:

Bach-St. Matthew Passion
Vivaldi-Violin Concertos as performed by Giuliano Carmignola
Vivaldi-Mandolin concertos
Vaughan Williams
Mozart-Arias as performed by Cecilia Bartoli.

I have to say that the world looks a much brighter place now.
Oh, and I love music as much as ever, and more.

Amen.

Is it time for a career change?

I'm considering becoming a full-time...germaphobe.
Why, you ask? Well, I'm gonna tell you!!!

This afternoon, at ten 'til three, I was waiting at the West entrance of the library where I work. I was supposed to meet a lady there, then proceed to the university's herbarium for a tour. Well, she didn't come for a full five minutes, so I was forced to sit and observe sheer repulsiveness. Sheer horror. Sheer hillbillyness.

This man was sitting on the library wall, a cigarette in one hand, while the other hand performed acts of toecheese archaeology. I mean, he wasn't just exploring, he was positively entrenched in toejam.

My initial reaction was "I wonder if anyone will notice if I throw up in this corner."

My second reaction was "Gee, I wonder if that guy is also waiting to meet someone. Gee, look, there's no faucet or industrial grade antibacterial scrub with which to sanitize his hand. Gee, someone's gonna walk up to him and say 'Hi Rutger. Ready to Study?' then, they are going to shake his archaeologist hand. Gee, then that someone is going to have particulate toecheese matter on his hands. Gee, then that someone is going to stick his finger in his mouth in order to extricate the raspberry seed from his breakfast muffin out from between his two front teeth. Gee, then that someone is going to ingest particulate toecheese matter. Gee, then that guy will die."

And if you think impending death is a bit of a stretch, you didn't see what I saw. I mean, when I say toecheese particulate matter, I really mean matter. There were chunks-CHUNKS- flying out from between his mangled-looking, croc-wearing toes. Just recalling the incident has given me the irresistible urge to go wash my hands. brb....

Okay, I'm back. So, everyone knows that my mind is over-imaginative. I started thinking of all the people I've shook hands with today. Then, naturally, I thought about how many different samples of feet-juice there could be on my hands. Then I thought of all the times I used a squirt of hand gel. Then I realized that the number of shakes vs. the number of gels was disproportionate. Then I freaked out and broke out in a cold sweat.

Just this weekend, up in the San Juan mountains, I had to use...to use....to use a PIT POTTY!!! (That was hard for me to say. )
Said pit potty had no hand gel. I felt my heart rate elevating, but felt hopeful that I still had a hand wipe in my car. When I got to the car, no handwipe. no gel. AACK! So, I drove a full hour without using chapstick, wiping my nose, or, God forbid, ingesting anything. Once I got to Gunnison, I promptly stopped at a gas station to buy hand gel. Talk about wave of relief. Alcoholly goodness.

So, that's why I am considering taking up a career in Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or podophobia, or pitpottyaphobia.

Oh, and for those of you who think I'm scared of ALL germs, I should say that I don't mind horse poop, dog slobber, garden dirt, or wet critter noses.

Mostly it's feet. and, well, pitpotties. Oh, and also I really want to wash my hands after handling money-must have something to do with being an ex-teller. I've seen things on money that will make your blood curdle.

Okay, happy hand washing!!!

A Gardening Tutorial

From Garden Expert Dani:

When you are in your garden harvesting ripe produce, I always find it helpful to bring a bag of some sort to carry your garden loot.

When, however, you find you are finished harvesting and would like to pull a couple of weeds while your husband is watering, be sure not to put the bag in the middle of the path your husband needs to use in order to water your garden plot.

If you disregard my sage advice, you will get results similar to this:

My TWO loves...

I love Adam. a lot.

I also love peanut butter. a lot.

So, you can clearly see why I absolutely could not pass this up tonight at the grocery store:

Ohhhhhh, this is gonna be goooooooood! I'm in trouble!