Wednesday, January 4, 2012
I have found I have this new, uncanny ability.
Let me explain.
I live out in the boondocks. Not really BFE (which for you that don't know, that stands for bum eff Egypt. Except if you live in Egypt you say "bum eff Idaho" so we're even), but far enough out that it's a real pain when you run out of milk.
In fact, Gene and I had to compromise. When we were first dating, we talked about living out in the country. I always said I wanted to live pretty close to town because I didn't want to drive 14 miles for a gallon of milk. He said he didn't want to live near barking dogs or thumping stereos and if we were out of milk, you could eat cereal with *WATER*.
yeah.... uh, no.
So we compromised. We live 8 miles out and I've been known to add a tiny bit of water to my almost full bowl of cereal (with milk) to get me by.
So anyway, to get to my house you're going the same route as people that live in Iowa. We get a lot of shoppers down here because we gots one of them thare wallsmarts and they don't.
My point to this is that lots of people in Iowa drive pick up trucks. Lots of people with pick up trucks put their groceries in the bed of the truck. Lots of people with groceries in the back of their pick up truck lose groceries out the back when they turn north and pick up speed.
And this is where my new uncanny ability comes in.
I'm a bread loaf spotting MACHINE. I can't stop myself from going back to pick them up because now it's too funny not to.
Yeah.. I know... it's certainly redneck of me, picking up road kill wonder bread. But if it helps you sleep at night, I don't eat it. I bring it home and feed it to my chickens! Although I admit there's been a couple times it was tempting - you could tell it had only been there for minutes. LOL.
Hamburger buns, texas toast and plenty of wonder bread. The chickens have said thank you for the 13 loaves I found in 2011. (All of it was from this summer til the end of this year). I'm going to break that number in 2012. I think that's going to be my new year's resolution since I can't seem to keep any other ones.
Because of this, I have dubbed this little strip of highway "dead bread road". It stems from a story my husband tells called "dead dog road" but trust me, you really don't want to hear it. The ending is exactly how you might suspect.
Who wants a peanut butter sandwich!?