Freezer Surprises and Wrestling Matches

There seems to be more traffic than usual going by the trailer today. As I was leaving the Asylum yesterday I noticed they had the bandstand (a converted flatbed trailer) set up over on the campground, a few vendor tents being erected and big sign that read "Car Show." I should probably get cleaned up, run down there and see if there are any fantabulous photo ops, but I'm determined to get my kitchen cleaned up.

It's getting pretty skanky in there.

I went through the freezer earlier, digging out things that have been in there since before the Amazon went to college, convincing myself that saving them was not being thrifty, closing my eyes and tossing them in the trash. I found the treasure you see pictured in the photo above, loose in the bottom of the freezer, buried under some green beans from last year.

Who puts loose wieners in the freezer?

I mean seriously...Where the hell did they come from?

Their shriveled pink flesh kinda reminds me of that Chattanooga K-9 cop I dated.. but that's another story.

By the time I finished cleaning out the fridge and freezer, the trash bag I was using was bulging and threatening to tip over, so I tied it closed with the intention of putting it out on the porch. I was still in my stained, torn but oh so delightfully comfy lounge-around-the-house garb, making the porch the farthest I was willing to go beyond the front door. When I attempted to lift the bag, I soon found that I'd gotten a little carried away with the stuffing of the freezer burned and fuzzy green groceries. I silently prayed that it would hold up until I got to the door as I drug it across the carpet.

I know what you're thinking, it would have been a huge, disastrous mess had it busted, but I made it to the door.

The fun began as I attempted to wrestle it out the door without catching it on anything, holding the screen door open with my ample rear end, dragging the bag sideways with one hand, while yelling, "No.. get back.. don't you run out that door.. I mean it.." to the hairless Boston Baked Beagle and Chihuahuaranian who were both googly-eyed with excitement by the sight of the wide open door to freedom (and a future as roadkill) and the aroma of half rotted, now defrosting food matter which was being released into the air each time I jerked the handy dandy garbage bag handle ties, progressing no more than a quarter of an inch closer to the door opening.

I'm sure the family of citified tourists gathered on the porch of the rental house across the road enjoyed the show. I should have sold tickets.

Once I made it out the door with the bag, I decided I'd let the Amazon wrestle it the rest of the way to the road. My luck isn't that great.. there's no sense pushing it.

Anywho... more domestic adventure awaits. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!