We usually have to go to the dump at least once a year. Somewhere around the middle of the year, the stuff that grows around the Big House (which I call psuedo bushes) needs to be trimmed. I chop it all down, load it into Ishmael (another story) and haul it to the dump.

In the past I’ve gone to the dump by myself since usually during growing/mowing season, David is elsewhere. I will tell you that it makes me feel very self-sufficient to drive up to the top of Garbage Mountain, empty the truck and drive back down. It’s also stinky. Very stinky.

Minutes before we left to take David to the airport the last time, we found that one of the windows in the big house had blown out in the storm the night before.

Well it was a two person job to get it into the truck bed and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get it out of there myself.  So I cut down the psuedo bushes and loaded them on top of the window in the bed of the truck. Then I asked Geoff if he could help me unload it at the dump. He said yes.

The scariest part of going to the dump, is driving up to the top of Garbage Mountain. It’s basically a one lane road. There are always garbage trucks and other vehicles unloading at the top. I’m always worried I’ll encounter one on the way to the top, or (even scarier) on the way down when I’m on the outside. But, oddly, I never have.

When you get to the top, the vista is garbage-y. And stinky. Very stinky.

Geoff backed the truck up and we began to unload.

With two of us, the job was finished in no time at all. Which is good because, while I’m pretty good at not breathing and still functioning, the dump takes a little longer than I can hold my breath and so I had to smell that stinky place.

Something I’ve never understood is how the guys who work up there can sit on their equipment and EAT in that stench. This trip, there were a couple of Asplundh trucks. They were just sitting there and looked like they were taking a break. I know I could find some much nicer (and more fragrant) places to take my break!

In any case, while I’m pretty self-sufficient and can do the dump alone if I have to, I’m really blessed that Geoff will help me with stuff like that. Thanks, Geoff!

Have you ever seen those roasted chickens at the grocery store by the check out lines? They are usually dried out looking (when I see them) and I know they are probably loaded with yucky stuff (salt, chemicals). Add to that the fact that they cost more than twice as much as a raw whole chicken, it just isn’t a good option for me who likes healthy and cheap.

Here’s a great, simple recipe for roasted chicken. You can throw it into the crock pot in the a.m. and it’s awesomely juicy and fall apart tasty by the time you get home for dinner.

First make 3 or 4 balls of aluminum foil and place them on the bottom of your slow cooker.

Placing the chicken on the balls, keeps it raised up out of the juices and gives it a more “roasted” consistancy.

Next, place the chicken on top of the aluminum balls.

Season with your choice of seasonings.

I like using basil, oregano and garlic powder. But Mrs. Dash or any other season that you like will work fine.

Cook on low all day long. It will be falling off the bone juicy by the time you are ready to eat it. The bonus is that it will also be healthy and cost around half of what the dried out one in the store costs. Nom!

P.S. The roasted carrots on the plate? FABULOUS! I’ll have to post that recipe soon. 🙂 Enjoy!

I’m finally a Real Housewife! Catch my guest blog over at The RHOK today about winning.

The above is artwork on a napkin drawn by my friend, Marty Coleman, also known as The Napkin Dad.

I’m really blessed to know someone like Marty. He’s smart, talented and compassionate. And I met him on twitter. So we can add that as another of the many reasons why I love twitter.

Tornadoes. I’m really scared of them. One of the things that scared me most about moving to Oklahoma was the prevalence of tornadoes. But, in reality, the only tornado I’ve ever seen in real life is the one that was in my rear view mirror as I was driving north on US 19 in Pinellas Park, Florida several years ago.  Thankfully, it moved out of my mirror and wasn’t chasing me up the highway.

When the tornado siren sounds here in Bartlesville, as David is running into the yard like a true Okie to look at the sky, I’m diving into the shower or under my desk.

It’s always been a toss up for me. Which is scarier: tornadoes or spiders? And I really can’t decide. The scariest ends up being what I’m faced with at that moment.

Life’s tornadoes is what Marty drew this napkin about and he said I inspired part of the commentary. He wrote about the life tornado that I’ve been experiencing for the past couple of months – not a weather event at all.

But people like Marty give me hope that there are truly nice and decent people amongst the people I know and those people give me strength to continue to pursue relationships with others and not just become a hermit.  Which, on some days, would be very easy for me to do.

I have met so many truly wonderful people via twitter and I count Marty amongst my friends. In real life. 🙂